His Outback Cowgirl(23)

He awoke to darkness and an intense silence. No longer could he hear the gentle rhythm of Bridie’s soft breaths. In the weak glow of the fire embers he could see her empty bedroll. He came to his feet and pulled on his jeans, shirt and boots. The night air carried the fresh scent of the lake but no sound of where Bridie could be.

Ignoring the cold ball of unease in his belly, he looked at the horses. Cloud and Captain stood sleeping. Molly had her head turned toward the lake, her ears flickering.

Ethan set off toward the water. Loyal Molly would be keeping an eye on her rider.

Moonlight cast a pale glow over the lake and reflected off the gentle ripples. To his left he glimpsed the blur of Bridie’s pale shirt. She sat on a rock, her head cradled in her arms.

A pebble rolled from beneath his boot as he drew near. Bridie’s head lifted and in the gloom he saw the shine of tears. But she didn’t look away.

“I still can’t sleep.” The misery that underscored her husky words told him that tonight was no different to any other night since her father had died.

Ethan joined her on the rock and it seemed natural to put his arm around her. She stiffened and then relaxed against his side.

“You will ... but first, as hard as it is, you need to let go. After all, that’s why you’ve come up here.”

This time when she stiffened, she didn’t then curve against him. “You know?”

“Yes. I know. The real reason, a healthy and natural reason, why you wanted to come here was to say farewell to your father.”

Her sigh emerged more like a sob. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to have my emotional meltdown when I was here by myself, not ... with you.”

His arm tightened around her. “Bridie, it’s okay. I’ve been where you are. You have to let your grief out ... even if it’s poor timing.”

Her only answer was a tremor that shook her. He felt her struggle to retain control in every tense muscle and then the moment when her grief won. With a muffled sound she turned and sagged against him. He fitted her against his chest and held her while her world broke into two.

When her sobs had quieted and his shirt was soaked with tears, he still held her. An owl hooted but she didn’t stir. Exhausted and drained, she’d cried herself to sleep.

He gathered her into his arms and carried her to the campfire. He removed her boots and settled her inside the soft flannel of her bedroll. She murmured and her still wet lashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake.

Throat tight, his fingers skimmed the satin softness of her cheek to brush away her silken hair. Cordell had been right. For a non-risk taker, he’d taken a massive risk being alone with the woman he was falling for.

He swallowed. But it was too late to implement damage control. Not only was she a grieving woman who had no idea where she’d head next, she was a restless cowgirl who’d not be interested in a boring and steady cowboy. He closed his eyes as desolation barreled through him. No longer was Bridie the woman he was developing feelings for.

Instead, she was the woman he’d fallen for. Hard.





Chapter Six




Bridie opened her eyes to the grey light of a new day. She could smell bacon and hear a birdsong dawn chorus. It seemed everyone was awake but her. She dragged her fingers through her tangled hair and pushed herself into a sitting position. Muscles protested. Muscles that had nothing to with riding but everything to do with sobbing out her heart while Ethan held her.

She rolled her shoulders but failed to loosen the tension that felt as though it was embedded in her bones. Ethan had been right. She did need to let her grief go even if it was the worst possible timing, and in a strange way, she did feel lighter. But now the embarrassment and regret of making a fool of herself in front of Ethan created a whole new tension. It mattered, and not just a little, what he thought of her.

“Morning, princess.”

“Morning.” Ethan’s cheerful and casual tone gave her hope he didn’t now want to distance himself after her emotional eruption. “I haven’t slept in that long.”

He chuckled and the smell of coffee overlaid the smell of bacon and eggs as he walked over, two steaming mug in his hands. “Long enough. The moose and her baby are already awake.”

“Are they? How long have they been up? I must get another photo.”

“Not long.” He passed her a coffee.

“Thanks.”

He sat on a nearby log and took a swallow of his own coffee. “It’s not quite sunrise yet so there’s still time for your coffee to kick in and to take more photographs.”

She took a tentative sip to make sure she didn’t burn her mouth. But it was the coffee strength, not the heat, that caused her eyes to water.