Part Five

His hand slid up, his long nimble fingers catching her silken blond curls as they tumbled across the bedspread.  He lowered his head back down to hers, pressing his lips fervently against the softness of the underside of her jaw, then on to her delicate collarbone.  Lilly moaned softly as his mouth generated waves of long-forgotten pleasure within her.  She began to slowly, seductively unfasten the buttons that lined his finely made shirt, sliding her hands against his heated exposed skin.  Clay trailed a searing line of kisses down across her décolletage until he reached the lace edging of her dress's bodice.  His breathing had already sped up, almost as if he was riding in the Derby - the excitement was the identical.

Clay lost his patience with his attempts at the frustrating lacings of the gown, so he roughly pushed the bodice down, exposing her alabaster shoulders and creamy breasts.  Lilly was somewhat startled by his eagerness, but it was thrilling all the same.  She had pushed the shirt off his broad, muscular shoulders and began to work at the fastening of his trousers.  She could feel the heated excitement emanating from him, an energy that vibrated throughout his entire being.   Clay closed his eyes, trying to gather his far-flung thoughts.  He moaned as her hands wreaked a devilish havoc with his body.

"Ohmygod...Moira..."

Lilly shoved him backwards.  Clay lost his balance and tumbled off the bed onto the floor, his blue eyes wide with shock at the sudden turn of events.  Lilly righted her dress and tried to collect her dignity.  This was definitely the first time in her adventurous life she had ever been called by another woman name.  She stood over Clay, her smaller figure attempting to be as imposing as possible.  Clay sat there, looking up at her dumbfounded.

"What the hell??,"  Clay snapped as he gathered himself, bruised tailbone and all, from the hardwood floor.  He had made quite a thud when he landed, he just hoped that no one would come running but he doubted anyone would hear a thunderstorm over the din below stairs.  Riding was going to be a little painful for the next couple of days.  But it was his pride that had been hurt more than anything.

"Let me explain something to you, Clay Logan," Lilly spat down at him, hissing like a riled feline.  That's what she reminded him of - an irate cat.  "Never, EVER, call a woman you are attempting to make love to by another woman's name.  It really kills the romance."  She stepped around him and opened the door.  She gestured impatiently for him to leave.  Clay shrugged into his shirt and made his way over to the door, glaring at Lilly as he passed by her and out into the hallway.

Clay turned to regard the beautiful, but very angry woman glaring back out at him from her doorway.  To think he had almost committed out of anger the one act he had always wanted to cherish with a woman he truly loved.  He could wring that scrawny little Irish girl's neck for this.  Why in the hell did he feel like this - he hated her one minute then imagined he was making love with her the next.  She always had to confuse him like that.  Clay responded, "I should think you'd rather be called someone else's name by someone who is capable of loving, than to hear your own on the lips of the man who would use you for his own ends."  With that, Clay turned and walked downstairs.  He retrieved his coat from Gabe, who looked quite troubled at the young man's swift departure, and left for the nearest saloon.

Dawn was breaking, streaks of reds, pinks and golds resembled fluttering banners across the autumn morning sky.  A brisk breeze was blowing as the reds and golds of the poplar leaves drifted as wayward travelers in unseen streams.  Moira wrapped the woolen shawl closer around her lithe body as she made her way out to the stables.  She missed the green fields of her youth, the beautiful rolling hills of Ireland.  But now she was slowing beginning to find her own place in this world, the regret settling in now that soon she would have no reason to share the joy, the laughter, the love for life that the Logan family had. Admit it, her mind admonished her, you'll miss one Logan in particular. She hadn't seen Clay since the day before... since the kiss.  She touched her lips with gentle fingertips, reminiscing at the way he had touched her, the way he had pressed his lips to hers.

She walked into the nearest stable doorway, she had always enjoyed the quiet time just after daybreak when all seemed right with the world and no transgressions had yet been committed.  As she stepped through the door, she felt her foot catch on something lying in her way and she fell forward to her knees.  Moira turned to figure out what had tripped her, when she realized that it was two leather booted feet attached to strong, muscled calves.  Her gaze traveled along the long legs until she traced them back to an unexpected owner.  Clay lay there, slumped against the wall of Gauntlet's stall, apparently passed out cold.  A bottle of whiskey rested beside his inebriated body.  Moira crawled back over to him.  Other than looking quite disheveled and reeking of alcohol, he appeared very peaceful, his long dark eyelashes gracing the chiseled features of his handsome face.  Moira sat for a moment, just drinking in the sight of him and becoming quite inebriated herself.   She reached out and gently smoothed the dark curls away from his forehead.

Clay moaned as he shifted into a more comfortable position.  As Moira debated the wisdom of leaving him alone in the barn, she heard voices outside of the stable.  The voices drew nearer and revealed themselves to be Ned and Jeremy.  Although Moira had nothing against Jeremy Bradford, she definitely wasn't interested in the advances he made towards her and she had been with the Logans long enough to realize the keen competition that seethed between Clay and the new addition to the Logan household.  But of course Ned was another story.  Moira knew very well that he didn't hold well with the idea of one of his sons being so drunk that he was passed out on the floor of a horse barn.  Moira shook Clay's arm gently at first, then a little harder in order to awaken him before Ned found him.  Clay mumbled something incoherent and shifted again, trying to get away from the annoying little motion that seemed to be jostling him out the wonderful dream he was having.

Moira hissed in his ear, quietly but very firmly, keeping her voice down so as not to alert the two men to their presence.  "Clay Logan, you'd better get your ass up and out of this barn before your da catches you like this."  Clay opened one indigo eye blearily, then the second.  He saw before him both the problem and the solution to all of his problems down on her knees next to his prostrate body.  Small tendrils escaped from the serviceable chignon into which she had pinned her long hair.  He reached out clumsily and touched one of the curls with his strong fingers.  Moira fought the startled urge to shy away, then had to fight another urge to lean into his arms.

"My beautiful Irish angel...," he slurred softly.  Moira nudged him again to get his attention back to the impending matters at hand.

"Clay, your da and Jeremy are comin'.  You'd better get up now."

The warning about Ned's arrival slowly penetrated his fuzzy brain, and he struggled to his unsteady feet.  Well, tried to anyway.  Moira stumbled under the burden of his weight as she guided him out the back way and down over the hill.  When she realized that they were out of sight from the stables, she turned to extricate herself from Clay's touch.  She had wrapped one arm around his narrow waist to help support him as he staggered through the barn and down the hill.  He had draped one long arm around her small shoulders, but when they stopped he still kept his arm in place.  Moira removed her arm and tried to duck away from Clay, but Clay cupped her cheek with his large hand.  She stopped in her tracks as she sucked in a deep breath at the tender caress.

"Clay.."

"Shhh...," he mumbled as placed a one finger against her full lips.  "Moira, God knows I've been a horse's ass the last few days..."

"You've been a pain in the ass since I met you, Clay Logan," Moira spat back.

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?"

"No, you get what you deserve.  I hope the headache's a good one."  Moira moved away from him and turned to go back towards the house.  Clay dropped his hand as he watched her leave.

"Why?"

Moira stopped at the sound of his voice.  Although she didn't turn around, she did manage to ask, "What?"

"Why did you do that?  I mean, you could have just let me alone and let Pa find me.  Or even better you could have ran out and told him about finding me on the floor."

Moira tilted her head and looked over her shoulder at the dejected state he was in.  "You wouldn't understand, Clay."

"Try me."

"I have my reasons.  Can't you just be grateful for my help?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you.  I'm sorry about making your life so miserable here the last few weeks."  Clay stared down at his scuffed boots, struggling to find the answers, the words he needed to say to her written in the dust.  Moira relented and walked over to him, placing her delicate hand on his arm.  She could feel the muscles jump at her touch, the heat of his body through the soft linen of his shirt.  Clay gazed up with startled blue eyes, his gaze meeting her serene one.

"Clay, believe it or not, I find that I am enjoying myself here with your family.  I never wanted to quarrel with you, it's just you always insist on making it difficult."

"I know, and I'm sorry.  You still haven't answered my question, though.  Why didn't you tell my pa about me being drunk?"

"I might have but Jeremy was with him."

"Yeah, so?"

"I didn't want Jeremy making fun at you, alright??"

"Oh."

"Clay, would you take a suggestion and not get mad?"

"What is it?"

"You'd better get cleaned up before your da catches sight of you."

Moira turned to leave silently, tired beyond belief as if the short episode from that morning had taken the life right out of her.  Clay watched her climb the hill, her skirts rustling with the cool autumn breeze.  She proved to be an enigma to him.  Just about the time he thought he had her figured out, she did something to surprise him.  What he hadn't figured out yet was that she had already stolen his heart.

To be continued....