Heart Of Gold (45 page)

When Nick
looked up at her, his eyes were tender.

“What?”
she asked him shyly.

“You're
one hell of a woman, you know that? You come up here, find the missing gold,
discover the reverend's final resting place and get his diary. And then you go
and do something truly amazing.”

“What
was that?”

“You
get my heart, as well.” He smiled. “Which I had no intention
of losing to someone.”

Carter
grinned and wrapped the cross back up. “Sometimes you get what you're
after. Even when you don't know you're looking for it.”

Feeling
quite delighted, she wandered over to a window. When she frowned, he asked what
she was looking at.

“There's
a .. . this is ridiculous.” She leaned forward a little. “There's a
red hawk in that tree.”

“What's
it doing?”

“Just
sitting up there. Staring at us.” She cleared her throat and looked over
at Nick, who'd put his head back into the safe. “Do you believe in that
ghost stuff?”

“That
Red Hawk haunts my mountain?”

“Yeah.”

“I
don't know. Sometimes when I'm up there, I feel like someone's watching me.
Why?”

“I
swear that hawk is staring at me as if it knows ... Never mind ...” Carter
laughed awkwardly. “I'll go get the gold from the kitchen. And, later,
I'll have my head examined for delusional tendencies.”

While she
was gone, Nick finished reordering the contents of the safe and was about to
take his head out of the wall when his hand brushed against the small red box
that held his grandmother's diamond. He took the leather case out and flipped
the lid open. The diamond gleamed and his eyes flared. Bingo, he thought,
slipping it into his pocket.

* * *

They were
traveling toward the ferry on the highway when Nick looked over at her. “I’ve
got something I've been meaning to ask you.”

“Really?”
Carter smiled, thinking that life didn't get any better. The summer sun was
streaming down on them, the air was blowing her hair in a soft swirl, and the
sexiest man she'd ever seen was looking at her like she was the center of his
world.

“It's
been a little hard to get through,” he said dryly.

“Oh?”

“I
figure I better do it now while we're alone.”

She felt
the car slow and then heard the crackle of loose gravel as Nick pulled over to
the side of the road. He'd stopped in the middle of a valley framed by majestic
mountains. Fields of grass and wildflowers backed up on either side of them and
chickadees and red-winged blackbirds flirted in the still, hot air.

Nick took
her hands in his and he leaned in close. There was a long pause. She'd never
seen him so serious.

“Carter
. . .” he began. But then he pulled back. “Wait, this isn't
right.”

Her heart
lurched.

“Get
out of the car,” he commanded, wrenching open his door.

Confused
and more than a little curious, Carter did the same.

They came
together in front of the Porsche and she watched in shock as he got down on one
knee.

“Oh
my God,” she said breathlessly.

There was
only one reason a man got down into that position, she thought with a jolt. And
it sure as hell wasn't to shine her shoes.

“Carter—”
Nick paused, his eyes shining up at her. There was amusement in them and far
more solemn, warm emotions. “What's your middle name?”

“Middle
name?”

“You
know, the extra one between your first and last,” he chided gently.

“Carter
is my middle name. My first name is Cordelia.”

He cleared
his throat.

“Cordelia
Carter Wessex, I love you. I want to build a life with you. I want you to be my
partner and the one who challenges me and the one who sleeps by my side. I want
you to hold and care for and live with. Will you be my wife?”

With her
heart pounding, she choked out a yes as she bent down and put her lips against
his. “Yes, yes, yes ...”

Still on
his knees, Nick embraced her around the waist. They held on to each other for a
long time until she felt him laugh. As he looked up at her, she ran her hand
through his thick, dark hair.

“What?”
she inquired gently.

“Do
you realize I've been trying to ask you to marry me for about a day now?”

“You
have?” She laughed with astonishment.

“I
gave it a shot in the car on the way home yesterday but you slept through it. I
was going to ask you this morning in bed but Buddy interrupted. I was
completely prepared heading into the shower but we got... distracted. Then I
was going to get you on the sailboat but with the gold and the journal
...”

Carter grinned
as Nick got up. He pulled her to him and took her lips in a searing kiss. When
they parted, his hand disappeared into his pocket and he took out a small
leather box.

“I
understand it's customary to give a ring.” He turned the box to face her
and opened the lid.

Carter
gasped at the diamond. With rainbow flashes, it twinkled in the sunlight.

As she
looked at the ring, she tried to comprehend her luck and good fortune. She'd
come to Farrell Mountain to solve a mystery and had found so much more than she
could ever have imagined.

She met
Nick's eyes. “It is utterly beautiful.”

“It
was my grandmother's. She was a lot like you. Fiery, independent, smart. And
before you turn it down because you spend your days digging in the dirt, you
should know that this ring survived fifty years of aggressive gardening and
held up just fine. I'd like it to be yours. And I think she'd have approved as
well.”

Carter
smiled and put out her hand. She felt the weight of the stone settle on her
third finger. It fit perfectly.

Nick
tenderly brushed her cheek and then kissed her, his lips soft and lingering
against hers.

Suddenly,
a rumble sounded through the valley, starting low at first and then growing in
urgency. They parted and looked to the noise, watching as an eighteen-wheeler
came barreling down the highway. As the truck approached, the driver released
his ak horn, pumping a high, roaring whistle at them. Carter and Nick
laughed and waved as the man gave them a thumbs-up while going by.

Their
laughter took on a bewildered tone when they saw what was on the side of the
truck.

In wide,
bold script, the lettering said, Red Hawk Freightlines.

And then
the picture of an enormous red-tailed hawk, soaring with wings outstretched,
streaked by them.

* * THE END * *

Jessica Bird has been spinning tales since she could
string sentences together. She is also the author of Leaping
Hearts. A graduate of Smith College, Jessica is an
attorney who is admitted to practice in two states. Her dream,
however, is to someday live a life devoted to writing
love stories. She lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with her
husband.

Visit the
author's Web site at www.jessicabird.com.

Scanned by Coral and proofed by mpkbnh