Ring of Fire Book Two of the McKay's by Rita Hestand

the world can't replace it. I should know. I've never been happier in my life, Letty. Never…."
    Letty stared at Julie and smiled. "I can see that. And I'm happy for you, honey. You deserve it."
    "And I can see something in your eyes when you look at Hank, Letty. It's love. Don't let it get away from you. Don't waste time, honey, it's just too precious."
    Letty glanced at Hank once more. "But Julie, it's not me that is keeping us apart. It's him."
    "Then you are just going to have to make him see. Break down all those old barriers that Dad put up and make your own rules."
    "And how do I do that?"
    "I'm not sure, let me think on it a while, and I'll get back to you. Now, is there anything I can get for you, I'm going to town tomorrow so let me know, okay." Julie stood up and helped Letty out of the chair.
    "Not unless you can get this thing off of me ," she suggested.
    "Leave that alone, young lady. And don't forget I'm driving you to the doctor on Friday."
    "Okay…" Letty gave one last glance at the corral and moved to go into the house.
    If Hank really cared about her, he'd have to be the one to say so.

    Chapter Eight
     
    Two weeks later, Letty was feeling much better, but she still couldn't do all the things she wanted. Her arm was still in a sling, and still hurt, her ribs had mended but she hadn't regained a lot of her strength back, she was losing weight and having headaches and it all came to a head one day in the barn.
    Restricted to riding Old Whitey, she was trying desperately to put a saddle on him when Hank walked in.
    Embarrassed that tears streamed down her face, she wouldn't face him at first.
    "What in heaven's name are you doing?" he asked as he caught her and gently pulled her about to face him.
    Ashamed for her weakness, she turned her head away. "I wanted to ride Whitey, but I can't get the saddle on him."
    "Why didn't you ask for some help?" he demanded.
    "I thought I could at least do this. But everything I try to do for myself lately…I just feel so helpless."
    "Hey," Hank's voice softened as a finger lifted her chin so he could see into her tear-stained eyes. "Any time you need help, just ask. I'll be there. So dry those beautiful eyes."
    "I'm a grown woman; I shouldn't need help getting on a horse," she explained, the tears rolling down her cheek unchecked.
    "Most of the time, that's correct, but not now. I guess you never broke an arm before. Now come on, I'll help you," he insisted. "Everyone needs help once and a while."
    Letty turned back to the horse , swiped her eyes and watched as Hank put the saddle on, cinched it and turned to look at her.
    "Where are you headed?" he asked.
    "Just thought I would go for a ride," she managed weakly. "I've been kind of cooped up for a while. Need to get some fresh air. And quit feeling sorry for myself."
    "Okay, then I'll go with you ," he insisted.
    "I don't need your help!" she hollered , turning away. "You have your own job, and I'm not part of that."
    He turned her back around and stared into her eyes . "No…you're wrong, I'm a big part of that. But right now…you need this…" And then his lips fastened onto hers so quickly she didn't know what hit her.
    How did his big, warm body fuse itself so quickly to hers ?
    How did her curves fit his so comfortably? How come her lips were butter soft when he kissed her? And how would he ever get enough of her?
    He heard her whimper, and his lips smiled against hers, as he pulled her fully into his arms, being careful not to hurt her arm, but cradling her there. He molded her to him, until only material separated them.
    She sighed and relaxed in his arms, as he played with her bottom lip , pulling at it, then caressing it into soft submission.
    He kissed her for long and breathless moments, assuaging the ache within himself, knowing this was what he wanted ever since the first night she was hurt. He needed her in his arms, knowing she was alright; knowing she was his for the moment seemed enough.
    Things weren't