«And by next year,» Caleb continued, brushing his lips over his wife’s, «the home pasture should be fenced. Until then, Ishmael will have to keep an eye on his mares.»
«He’s done a good job so far,» Willow said.
Caleb grinned. «I can’t argue that. My Montana mares might have been bigger than what he was used to, but it didn’t put that stud off his stride a bit.»
Willow tried not to laugh, but the gleam of amusement in her husband’s eyes was too beguiling. Laughing softly, she kissed the line of his jaw.
«Will it put you off your stride when I get big?» she asked against his skin.
Caleb went very still and his arms tightened. «Are you going to get big?»
«Come spring, I suspect I’ll be as big as any of the mares.»
«Are you certain?» he asked, trying and failing to keep the concern from his voice as he remembered his sister.
«I’m strong,» Willow whispered. «Don’t worry, love.»
Joy and fear were mixed in the tawny intensity of Caleb’s glance as he looked at the woman who had become the center of his life.
«I’ll be with you,» he said simply.
* * *
AND he was.
Their first child was born when high-country streams ran full with the wild rush of spring. Like the brothers and sisters who followed, he grew tall and strong and straight, fed by the dean western land and the love that wove brightly between Caleb and Willow Black.