“Are you ready to head back?” Carl asked.
Allegra sighed. “I guess so.”
“We’re out of firewood,” Carl told her. “Let’s go before we get cold.”
They got their horses from the tree. Carl kicked some dirt over the glowing embers of the dying fire.
Allegra buttoned her coat against the cold. “Everyone will be asleep back at the house.”
Carl grinned. “It just means they won’t hear us come in.”
Allegra put her foot in her stirrup and mounted her horse. A clear half moon lit up the sky overhead. They could see their way as clearly as if it were broad daylight. Carl settled himself in his saddle and turned the horse’s head toward the ranch house.
They didn’t talk on the way back. Somewhere between the cattle herd and the barn, Allegra imagined they were riding away from her home instead of toward it. What if, as Carl suggested, they never went back? What if they just stayed out on the range for the rest of their lives, traveling and working and hunting jack rabbits for food? Would it really be so bad? They would always have each other.
She glanced across at him. He filled the vacuum left by her sisters so perfectly. In reality, only the shock of the sudden change caused her any distress. She knew she would be happy with him, and he would be happy with her, if only she could get this blasted elephant out of the way.
She made up her mind to tell him the truth. Anything would be better than the anticipation of his reaction when he found out. She would do it when they got back to the barn. It would be quiet, they would be alone—she would never find a better time. Then she could breathe easier.
Just making the resolution to tell him lightened her spirits, and she smiled at him. But he didn’t see her. He stared straight in front of him, lost in his own thoughts. Hopefully he wouldn’t react too badly when he found out.
When the house and barn came into sight, she braced herself. Her heart started racing. Could she really do it? She had to. They dismounted in front of the barn door and Carl slid it open.
They tended their horses in the silence. When Allegra looked toward the house, the black outline around the door told her everyone inside was asleep. They hadn’t left any candle or lamp burning for Carl and Allegra. They probably assumed they would spend the another night out somewhere.
They stabled their horses. “Let’s take this lantern,” Allegra suggested. “We’ll need some light to find our way in the house.”
Carl nodded, and Allegra lit a match to light the lantern. The yellow glare dispelled the moonlight and stung her eyes. She could see better in the moonlight, but she wouldn’t be able to see at all once they got into the house.
The business of lighting the lantern, tending the horses, and getting out of the barn somehow distracted her just long enough to skip the part about talking to him the way she planned. She remembered with her hand on the latch. She would do it once they got inside and got into bed. That would be the perfect time. They would be together. He wouldn’t likely jump out of bed and call her a liar and run away, not in the dark and the cold with his boots and hat off.
She lifted the latch as quietly as she could. The door swung back to reveal an endless cavern of black. As she suspected, she couldn’t see a thing until she held up the lantern.
The breathing of four people filled the room inside, along with the warmth of the fire. Allegra closed the door and latched it behind them. Her own breath and Carl’s joined with the others to fill the room. Carl followed her over to her bed against the wall and they sat down on it.
Allegra set the lantern on the table between her bed and Amelia’s. Across the gap, the light played on Amelia’s sleeping face. As quietly as possible, Allegra took off her boots and unbuckled her gun belt. Carl copied her.
Once they hung up their hats and belts, Allegra glanced around. Something was missing. She ought to change into a night dress, but she didn’t own one. She hadn’t slept in anything other than her work clothes for over seven years. She hadn’t noticed, when she and Carl slept in their hay nest out in the barn last night. Now, when they were about to get into this bed of blankets in a real house, sleeping in their clothes didn’t make sense anymore.
But she didn’t have anything else to wear. Maybe Carl wouldn’t notice. Maybe he wouldn’t care one way or the other. He paid more attention to the woman inside the clothes than the clothes themselves.
She pulled back the blankets and stuck her feet underneath them. The blankets seeped cold into her limbs before they trapped her body heat and started to warm her up. Carl climbed underneath next to her. Then he leaned over and blew out the lantern.
Did she hear something change in the breathing coming from the other beds, or was it her imagination? As soon as Carl got under the blankets with her, the heat from their bodies drove the cold away completely.
Now she wished she could strip off the rest of her clothes and get more comfortable. If only it was summer! If only they didn’t have this cold to contend with every time they wanted to get close to each other.
Carl didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. He took her in his arms and snuggled deep under the blankets, sharing her warmth and giving his back to her. Allegra closed her eyes tight against the hot breath on the side of her head, welcoming it and fearing it at the same time.
Now she really wished she was wearing a night dress. She finally understood how these stiff hard work clothes kept her locked into her own isolated bubble of safety like a suit of armor. How could he ever know there was a soft delicate woman hiding inside them, when he only ever found her encased in these hard shells? How could she be a soft woman? She couldn’t. She never had been, not in all the years she wore these clothes.
Yet he still didn’t seem to notice. In all their conversations, he only ever said he wanted her this way. Maybe the barrier peaked his interest. Maybe the obstacle made the discovery of her soft feminine interior more enticing or challenging. She would have to ask him about it.
She shuddered against him in the dark. His presence always made her shake and shudder. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold anymore, but the knowledge that now only their pants separated them from each other frightened her. No, it didn’t frighten her, but it rattled her. Yes, that was the word—rattled. It shook her to her core, especially when she remembered last night.
Their breathing filled the room, and their body heat joined the other warmth inside the walls of the house. They disappeared into their own private cocoon under their blankets.