Chapter 13

Coyote Canyon, Texas - September 1872

Honor, nestled against Buck's chest, fought the urge to succumb to the exhaustion threatening to pull her under. She was going to have a horrible day doing chores if she didn't get some sleep but spending time in the hay loft with Buck was worth one miserable day of chores. The warmth radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his breath, was intoxicating.

Finally, Honor broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "Why did you wait so long to come back?"

Buck sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken burdens. "Things are a mess at the ranch, Honor. A drought the likes of which I've never seen, threatening everything I've built."

"But that's not all, is it?" She prompted gently.

He shook his head, meeting her gaze with a mix of longing and apprehension. "There were problems, yes. But the truth is, every day that passed, the thought of you was a constant ache in my chest."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. The fear, the uncertainty – it had been mirrored in her own heart during his absence.

"I realized I couldn't stay away any longer," he continued, his voice low and husky. "Not from the ranch, not from the challenges I needed to face. But most of all, not from you."

A lump formed in Honor's throat. In those simple words, Buck had laid bare his soul. Taking a deep breath, she mustered the courage to ask the question that hung heavy in the air.

"Do you love me, Buck?"

He turned her face towards him, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that traced a path down her cheek. "Very much."

Relief washed over her, mingling with a warmth that chased away the lingering chill of doubt. She leaned into his touch, her heart overflowing with a love that mirrored his own.

A smile grew on his face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, a silent promise whispered against her lips. "Next time," he murmured, "I won't wait so long to visit, I promise."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, Buck's fingers absently tracing patterns on her arm. Honor, reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, the silky strands cool against her skin.

"That feels amazing," Buck sighed, closing his eyes.

A mischievous glint entered Honor's eyes. "I've never much cared for long hair on men." She teased, twisting a strand around her finger.

Buck opened one eye, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Really? Then how do you stand me?"

"I can't imagine you any other way," she admitted, her voice softer now. "It's beautiful."

His smirk widened. "So you wouldn't want me to cut it?"

"Why would you consider that?" She frowned, the playful teasing forgotten. "It's perfect the way it is."

"Just a question," he chuckled, sensing the shift in her mood. "Someone recently just said I would look more like a gentleman if I cut my hair."

"This person that told you this, are they important to you?" She asked hesitantly.

"Not particularly. She's the mother of a young girl that one of my horses injured."

"Oh no, that's horrible."

"Her leg was crushed." Buck frowned. "She's doing better but her mother is quite a force to be reckoned with."

"So she thinks you would be more of a gentleman if you cut your hair?"

"I believe she said it looks too Indian."

"But," Honor looked at him and tried not to laugh. "You are an Indian."

"I know that, and you know that." He whispered. "I think she's trying to drive it out of me."

"They don't matter," Honor smiled, taking his face in her hands. "What matters is us. And I wouldn't want you any other way."

Buck leaned closer, captivated by the fierce love shining in her eyes. "You are so beautiful when you laugh," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Your nose wrinkles up just a bit, and it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

Honor leaned in, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. As their lips met, a spark ignited, a current that sent shivers down her spine. Buck's touch was electric, his arms wrapping her in a blanket of warmth.

He explored her mouth gently, his movements deliberate and tender. Honor, initially hesitant, melted into his embrace. A wave of desire washed over her, a yearning she didn't fully understand but instinctively craved.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, mirroring the frantic dance of her emotions, she muttered an apology when a button ripped off and rolled through the cracks between the wooden floorboards. Buck chuckled softly, pulling back slightly.

"Don't worry about it," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

He guided them both down onto the hay, his touch sending shivers down her spine. Kisses rained down on her face, trailing along her jaw and down her neck, each touch igniting a fire within her.

Buck, sensing her surrender, slowly unbuttoned the top of her blouse, his lips lingering on the newly exposed skin. Honor responded with soft sighs, her body yearning for more. But amidst the rising tide of passion, a sliver of reason broke through Buck's haze. He knew this couldn't go further, not here, not now. With a shaky breath, he pulled back.

She understood instantly, her desire fighting with reason. Nestled against his chest, Honor's racing heart gradually calmed. Shame washed over her, a blush creeping up her neck. How brazen she had been!

As they lay there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the hayloft rafters, a comfortable silence settled between them. Buck stroked her hair gently.

Honor peeked up at him, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. "Buck?" she asked softly.

"Mmm?" He responded, his voice thick with sleep.

"What would my Kiowa name be?"

Buck chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated against her chest. He pondered for a moment, then spoke. "Féna sanée má."

"What does that mean?"

"Sweet berry woman." His voice held a hint of amusement.

Honor smiled, a wave of warmth washing over her. "Féna sanée má," she repeated, savoring the melody of the words on her tongue. "I like it."

A comfortable silence settled between them once more. "Someday, I'll call you Qyá̱u," Buck whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Qyá̱u?" Honor echoed, intrigued. "What does that mean?"

He chuckled softly, a hint of mystery in his voice. "I'll tell you sometime." He promised, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.