Chapter Thirty-two

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Chapter Thirty-One

Wyatt heard the hoof beats approaching and his heart beat quickened. Not with worry. Not with fear. With excitement.

He couldn't see the horse or rider yet, the smokehouse kept them hidden from his view, but Wyatt didn't need to see with his eyes to know what his heart was telling him.

Zachariah had come home.

Throwing down the sledgehammer, Wyatt ran to the side so the smokehouse would no longer hinder his view.

If he could have cried out with joy, the sound would have echoed off the prairie grass and mesas. Zachariah's black gelding was at full gallop. Its black mane was blowing as wildly in the wind as Zachariah's long dark hair.

Zachariah showed no signs of slowing down as he neared Wyatt but Wyatt had no fear of being trampled. He saw Zachariah's arm come out and, as everyone and everything else around him faded, Wyatt wrapped his hand around that strong arm and felt himself hoisted through the air.

He was tossed behind Zachariah in the saddle and Wyatt wrapped his arms tight around the big man's waist, clinging to him with unabashed desperation. He saw his family staring with different degrees of shock and surprise but they quickly became distant figures as Zachariah rode Wyatt away across the plains.

Wyatt did not know or care where they were going. All he focused on was the feel of Zachariah's body against his as he kept his arms wrapped tight around him and buried his face in his back.

Tears soaked the back of Zachariah's dark vest but Wyatt could not fight them or keep them at bay. They were tears of pure joy and relief. He had been so sure in his mind that Zachariah was gone but his heart had been right all along.

He wasn't sure what had kept Zachariah gone for so long but that didn't matter just now. All that mattered was savoring the here and now.

Wyatt saw the tiny shack that he had once kept a tied-up Zachariah prisoner in growing closer. He smiled when he realized that Zachariah must have remembered the place as well.

The panting horse came to a stop and Zachariah slipped down before turning, putting his hands on Wyatt's hips and pulling him down as well. Their bodies were flush as Zachariah stared down at him.

Wyatt took in every line, scar and angle of that face. He took in the way the hot breeze tossed strands of hair across Zachariah's cheek. He took in the sight of every fleck of black within those dark gray eyes as they gazed down at him.

"Dammit, Wyatt, if you ain't the best damn sight I've ever seen."

Wyatt beamed up at him, unable to wipe the happy smile off his face or stop the tears that were still falling from his eyes. Zachariah's hand cupped Wyatt's face and his calloused thumbs gently wiped away the dampness. "Don't cry, Wyatt. I'm here now and I ain't never going away again."

Wyatt barely managed a nod before he quickly rose to his tip toes and pressed his mouth to Zachariah's.

Wyatt may have started the kiss but Zachariah was quick to take it over. He tilted Wyatt's head and deepened the kiss with a fervor that shocked Wyatt. His hands dripped lower, his fingertips dancing over Wyatt's bare shoulders and causing him to tremble wildly.

The summer heat was forgotten as Zachariah put his hands on Wyatt's hips and lifted him into the air. Wyatt smiled against his man's hungry mouth as he wrapped his legs around Zachariah's waist and Zachariah carried him to the door, never breaking the fiery kiss they were sharing.

An Outlaw's Silence (manxman)(second story in The Crane Gang series)Where stories live. Discover now