The slime of mud coated him too, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he’d found her, that the mishap had been nothing more than poor judgment on her part, and that now she was safe in his arms.

The rest of the search party would be riding up at any second, but he needed this brief respite with her, needed to hold her just a fraction longer to reassure himself everything was okay.

Her warm exhalations brushed his neck. And she clung to him as if she never planned to let go.

He liked it. Liked holding her. Liked being near her. He rested his cheek against her head. Stiff mud coated her hair, but he closed his eyes and relished the sweet feel of her pressed against him.

“Didn’t reckon anyone would come searching for me tonight.” Her breathing was calmer.

“Guess you didn’t count on me wondering where you were.”

“Were you worried?” Her tone contained a note of teasing.

“Maybe a little.”

“Or maybe a whole lot?”

“I didn’t think you’d give up on earning that land by going to Flynn’s.”

“You’re right about that.”

At the fire returning to her voice, he smiled.

“Appreciate you a-comin’ after me. Would’ve been a long night standing there in the mud.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she relaxed into him, he grew suddenly conscious that one of his arms was still wrapped underneath her at the bend of her legs and was pressing into her backside . . . a scantily clad backside.

He glanced down to find her bare lower legs and feet tucked up against him. Even covered in mud, there was no disguising the beauty of her endlessly long legs. Where was her skirt? It took another second before his mind registered the fact that she wasn’t fully dressed.

“Blast it all, Ivy.”

“What’s wrong?” Her face pressed into the crook of his neck, her mouth so close he could almost imagine her lips brushing his skin.

For a second he held his breath, his body keenly aware of each of her curves, his eyes drawn again to her thin legs, slender ankles, and pretty feet. He’d seen her feet plenty of times in the past since she’d always gone barefoot. But somehow seeing her like this was entirely different. She was different. Maybe he was. Or both.

At a nearby shout, he sat up straighter. The others were coming, having heard his gunshot and narrowing down where it came from.

A strange jealousy prodded him. He didn’t want anyone else to see Ivy in her underdrawers. “Everyone will be here soon. You need to get your skirt back on. Now.” He started to set her onto the ground beside him, but she didn’t release her hold around his neck.

“I’m covered in mud. They ain’t gonna see much.” She kept her head on his shoulder.