To Love an Outlaw (Into the West #1) (A Wattpad Reading List Choice)

Chapter 15

 “I think it’s time we get out of this storm ourselves, Ma’am,” the gunfighter drawled, stepping toward the shack and taking the lead. Who knew what might have taken up residence in the building since the last time someone had stayed in it. Sonny didn’t want to take any chances with the widow’s safety.

 Grabbing the latch with a firm grip, his gun hand hovering over the weapon slung low on his hip, Sonny attempted to open the door, but it stuck, water-logged and swollen from the unexpected moisture. With the rain still beating down on them, Sonny didn’t want to spend any more time out in the elements, so he put his shoulder to the door and gave a good shove. It opened without warning.

 Stumbling in, the gunfighter immediately stepped aside to allow Callie entrance, both of them mindful of the skittering noises reaching them from the dark corners of the room. But nothing larger than apparent mice greeted them, so Callie pushed the recalcitrant wood door shut, pulling her own hat off her head.

They stood in the dimness, shoulder to shoulder, the rainstorm outside muted somewhat by the walls and roof surrounding them, though chinks in the logs allowed the wind some entrance. Dripping water from their soaked clothing disrupted the relative silence of the room, until Sonny again made the first move by turning at the waist, perusing their new home. A bed with straw mattress was shoved into one corner, a table and one chair crowded the opposite wall, and a fireplace flanked the rear of the shelter, cut wood neatly stacked beside it. Tossing his hat onto the table, Sonny strode to the fireplace, fishing matches out of his inner vest pocket as he knelt in front of the hearth.

 “I’ll see if I can’t start us a fire, Ma’am, if birds didn’t clog the chimney with a nest this past spring.” He leaned into the fireplace, trying to see up the flue, but only got errant raindrops in his face for his trouble. Backing out, he brushed his palms together and readied some kindling to start a fire.

Meanwhile, Callie nodded, replying, “I’ll try and find some candles.”  She sent her hat the same way as Sonny’s, and then looked about for tapers, knowing Papa would have kept the place well-supplied. In the cock-eyed drawer under the tabletop, she found what she was looking for, complete with wood matches and metal candle holders. Immediately she set two up on the table, lighting them competently amidst their hissing flames. Turning from her activity, she spied the gunfighter gently blowing on his nest of sticks within the fireplace, and within seconds his patience was rewarded with a sizzle and a spark, and then a small flame that caught on quickly to his expertly laid kindling.

Smiling at his handiwork, Sonny rose from his knees, catching the widow watching him from across the small space. Her lips curved slightly as she stood in the candlelight, dripping on the floor, but froze when their eyes collided. The snap and crackle of the fire in the fireplace was nothing compared to the flash of awareness that arced between the gunfighter and Callie West in that moment, flaring bright at the knowledge that they were alone together, with no audience whatsoever to demand proper decorum be observed. And still they did nothing, simply stared at each other with hungry eyes, feasting over every feature without the benefit of touch, hot eyes burning across the distance. If he had made but one small move, one tiny gesture, Callie would have run into Sonny’s arms, would have plastered her body to his in abandon. But all the gunfighter did was suggest rather hoarsely, after clearing his throat, “We should take off our outer clothes. I don’t know about you, but I’m soaked.”

Callie found herself nodding, dismay spearing to her very core at the realization that the gunfighter would not make that move toward her, would not sully her in that way. He had always treated her with the utmost respect, and that would not change even when they were alone. It was probably for the best, Callie admitted to herself as she began pulling her boy’s shirt out of her homespun pants. After all, she had no idea how men and women acted together when they were mutually attracted to one another. She would probably poker up like she did with Obadiah, and disappoint Sonny McQuade with her frigidness.