Every lovely dream he'd ever dared wish for was there, in the sweet look she bent on him. He shook his head as he felt her move purposefully against his hard arousal. "Brat," he whispered, just before his mouth met hers again.
She lay open, vulnerable beneath him, and he could feel her heart beating against his chest, her whole world depending on what he chose to do next.
He lifted his lips from hers, and she turned her head toward where his right hand grasped her left one. "You'll hurt your hand," she whispered, closing her eyes against his steady look.
"No. It doesn't hurt."
She shifted under him.
"Too heavy?"
She shook her head, still not looking at him. "No." She started to say something else, but didn't. She bit her lip, then finally opened her eyes to look at him.
"What is it? Talk to me, Allie."
"Don't you feel it? You and me – it's right, Brandon. How can you not know that?"
Slowly, he released her fingers and lowered his head. There was no denying it. She understood him, knew all the good and bad within him – and yet, the love in her eyes remained undimmed. Could he live up to that love, give her the man she thought he was, and the life together with him that she dreamed of?
"I do know it," he murmured in a low voice. He sighed, shuddering as he let it go, allowing the reality of the dream he held to wash over him in the thrumming of his blood. How had he ever thought he could ride away from here, leave her behind? He might as well cut his own heart out. When had he fallen so hopelessly in love with her?
Ten years ago. When no one in the world had cared... No one except Allie Taylor.
In her eyes, he found the same adoring look he remembered, that he'd never forgotten for a moment. He'd kept it in the back of his mind so that he could think of her once in a while, and remember there was someone in the world who loved him, even if she was just an eleven-year-old green-eyed girl.
"You're mine, Allie. You always have been. I've always known that, somehow."
"I never forgot it."
"I know."
"It took you a while to remember me," Allie teased.
Brandon shook his head. "No. I just wasn't in any shape to string more than one thought together. I didn't expect to see you here, much less have you save my hide from Smith and his men."
Brandon moved off her, grinning at her poorly concealed look of disappointment. "Hang on a minute. I want to show you something."
"You shouldn't be up."
"It's okay. It won't take long." He stood and crossed the room to where his saddlebags lay. Kneeling to open the latch on one side, he put his hand in to feel for something. He brought out a small leather pouch, and untied the leather cord which held it bound.
"Close your eyes," he told her, standing up, crossing back to the bed.
"It's not a frog is it?"
He laughed outright, remembering when he'd tried to share his find of a large bullfrog with her one day at the orphanage, and her look of dismay as she tried to work up some enthusiasm for his treasure.
"No. It's not a frog." He sat down on the bed and reached for her hand, dropping something soft into it, and folding her fingers around it gently. She opened her eyes, and looked into his face. Sitting up slowly, she relaxed her grip. A glint of blue ribbon peeked through the spaces between her fingers. It was the color of the Indian Territory summer sky on a sultry June day – like the day she'd given it away.
She made a small sound in her throat, and Brandon knew instantly that she'd recognized the length of ribbon she'd given him all those years earlier.
Tears filled her eyes as she held it up to inspect it more closely.
"I never should've taken it, when you offered," he said quietly, watching her. "It was the only one you had. And I knew how you loved it." He reached to take it from her again, running his fingers over the smooth, worn surface. Their hands met, the ribbon connecting them for a moment, before Allie let go of it.
"I loved you more," Allie whispered.
He smiled. "I don't know why. I didn't have anything to give you but a frog."
Allie wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe you've kept it all these years. You acted so—" She looked down at the bed and he finished for her.
"Rude?"
She nodded. "I figured you'd have lost it or gotten rid of it a long time ago. In fact, I doubted you cared enough to even keep it more than a day – a silly old girl thing like that." Her eyes were warm with a teasing light.
Brandon grinned. "Had you fooled, didn't I? I couldn't let you know I cared about you. You were a 'silly ol' girl thing' yourself, back then. Way too young for a man going on fifteen."
Her eyes locked with his. "And now? Would that be 'problem four'?"