A Cowboy Unmatched by Karen Witemeyer Page B

stood guard on the porch, one hip resting against the railing as he scanned the drive. Every time Clara paced by the window, she glanced his way, searching for a clue in his demeanor that might tell her how dire the situation truly was. But the man kept lounging there as if he weren’t the slightest bit concerned. Such a stance should reassure her, but instead all she could think was that he knew she was watching him and was purposely projecting a relaxed air to ease her worry. Which only served to inflame her anxiety.
    â€œCome sit, Clara,” Meri urged. “You’re going to wear yourself out with all that pacing. You won’t be any good to Neill if you collapse.”
    That last argument stilled Clara’s feet. Neill had been strong for her through all of this. She owed it to him to be strong in return. The stoicism that had been her strength for so many years fell back over her like a familiar gown, rolling from her head to her toes in one long wave. No more pacing. No more fretting. Whatever came, she’d deal with it the best she could. Hadn’t God proved He could be trusted, even in the darkest times? He’d brought Neill to her, after all.
    And didn’t Neill deserve her faith, as well? She’d been angry when Meri and the others had referred to him as a boy, but had she done any better—immediately assuming he’d not be able to hold his own against Mack? Neill had proven himself capable, honorable, a man worthy of her trust. And where trust led, her heart had followed—right into Neill Archer’s keeping.
    Clara made her way to the chair nearest the window and lowered herself onto the cushion. No matter what happened, she’d not disgrace him with hysterics. She’d be a rock, a steady fortress, a . . .
    â€œRider comin’ in.”
    Josiah’s shout spurred Clara from her chair, heart pounding. She rushed to the window, all thoughts of rocks evaporating like insubstantial mist.
    â€œIt’s Neill!”
    That’s all she needed to hear. Clara ran for the door, her heart sending prayers of gratitude heavenward even as her feet flew across the porch and down the steps. God had brought him back. He looked like he’d been run over by a freight wagon, but he was alive and fit enough to sit a horse. God was good.
    He’d barely dismounted when she threw herself into his arms. He groaned, but tightened his arms around her waist and drew her even closer into him.
    â€œIt’s over, Clara. Harrison’s safe.”
    Clara gazed up at his face, bruised and bloodied, yet the most beautiful face she’d ever seen. “I love you, Neill Archer,” she said, echoing the words he’d left her with in the wagon, and infusing them with the truth of her own heart. “And as soon as that preacher brother of yours returns, I plan to make you mine.”
    Neill grinned that crooked, boyish grin that always turned her insides to melted butter and lowered his head toward hers. “I’m already yours.” The husky murmur echoed in her ears as his lips met hers in a caress so tender, a tear of sheer wonder slid past her lashes. Her palms moved up his chest and her fingers clutched at his shirt as if she could hold him to her forever.
    â€œI’ll . . . uh . . . just take care of your horse,” Josiah said from somewhere behind them.
    Clara broke away from the kiss and buried her face against Neill’s neck, embarrassed to have forgotten they weren’t alone.
    â€œThanks, partner.” The deep sarcasm in Neill’s voice made Clara smile against his collar. Then he shifted his stance a bit and called after his friend. “Oh, by the way, it might be a while before we can make an offer on the ranch. I’m still over a hundred short.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” Josiah answered. “Travis said we could run our herd on his back acres as long as we need to. We’ll