Her Wyoming Man by Cheryl St.john Page A

her hopes and dreams in his care. Her happiness was a weighty responsibility…one he feared…one he treasured…but a duty he coveted.
    They neared the bank of the stream, and she cast her attention to the gently moving water. “Look,” she said, releasing his hand to inch closer. “It’s so clear you can see the stones beneath the surface.”
    “This is why the town was named Sweetwater,” he told her.
    “Oh, my!” she said excitedly. “See the little fish darting here and there?”
    He nodded, but cared only to observe her delighted expression. She reminded him of his children on Christmas morning, their eyes aglow with wonder and excitement. All he’d done was walk her across his lawn, but she behaved as though he’d taken her on a grand adventure.
    “Have you never seen fish before?” he asked.
    “Only on a plate with lemon sauce,” she replied. “A much larger variety, for certain.”
    He chuckled and she shot her gaze to his. “Where have you been, Ella, that you’ve never seen a fish?”
    She turned away without reply, her gaze once again on the shimmering water. “I’ve been in a place much different from this.”
    “I meant no insult.”
    “None taken.”
    A few minutes passed, the sound of the gurgling water a pleasant backdrop to his thoughts. “You can take off your shoes and walk in the water, if it pleases you.”
    Taken by surprise at his suggestion, Ella glanced up at him. “Wouldn’t that be unladylike?”
    “Even if it was, there’s no one here but the two of us.”
    “I don’t know,” she hedged.
    “I’ll join you.”
    “You?” She had trouble picturing it.
    He sat and removed his boots, then tugged off his socks and rolled up his trouser legs, revealing long feet and corded ankles sprinkled with dark hair. He stood and waded out into the water. “The stones are smooth underfoot. It’s safe.”
    Ella watched him, intrigued by the sparkle of the sun on the water and his feet rippling under the surface. She sat and removed her shoes, then hiked up her skirt and petticoat to roll down her stocking.
    He stood planted in the stream, his dark gaze taking in her every move.
    Ella tossed the stocking aside and reached to roll down the other, more slowly this time. He was definitely interested. She smiled to herself. Feet bare, she recognized the fascinatingly cool tickle of the grass under her soles. She stood, gathered the hem of her skirt above her knees and made her way to the edge of the water.
    She walked in, the same as he had, shocked by the frigid temperature of the water. Chills ran up both legs and she sucked in a surprised breath. “It’s cold!”
    He laughed. “Did I forget to mention that?”
    “You most certainly forgot to mention that.” The stones were smooth, a little bit slippery, and the water was a brisk, yet gently lapping current against her calves. She loved the sensation, as well as the warm sun on her face…and the expression of the man watching her.
    Something tickled her ankle, and she glanced down to discover a swarm of miniature fish.
    “Oh!” She gasped in surprise and jumped to put all her weight on one foot and raise the other out of the water. While she teetered on a single foot, the fish promptly gathered around the remaining ankle. She leaped to the other foot, dropping her hem in the process and then grabbing it up, dripping wet, and raising it even higher than before. “The fish are biting me!”
    Laughing, Nathan waded toward her, and she lunged for him, attempting to leap right up into his arms out of the water and away from the mysterious creatures.
    He lost his balance and staggered to one side, grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her against his chest, while laboring to regain his footing.
    He almost stabilized himself, but lost his balance, and a foot shot out from under him, plummeting them both into the stream.
    The water here wasn’t deep, but it was cold, and immediately soaked through Ella’s clothing to her skin