The Wrangler (27 page)
Authors: Jillian Hart
Tags: #Historical romance, #wrangler, #montana, #cowboy
"I can't afford a horse." Honey was worth a great deal more than fifty-one dollars. "Come winter, it will be too costly to board her."
"I have a solution for that." She came to him like a promise, like the first brush of dawn at the end of a long dark night. "You can keep her in my barn. Maybe you'd like to stay, too."
"I don't think I can." Her unexpected generosity touched him. "After what you've meant to me, I can't go back to working for you. I'll get a job somewhere. Don't you worry."
"I wasn't offering you a job." She laid the flat of her hand on his chest.
He went rigid, unable to believe. He couldn't make his mind accept what she was offering. If she didn't want him to work for her, it seemed impossible she could forgive him. But wasn't that what she was doing? "But I basically lied to you about who I really am."
"You omitted a few things, it's true, but you also showed me the truth. You let me know with every word and deed exactly the kind of man you are. I want you to stay with me."
"I want to stay, too." He pulled her into his arms, trapping her against his chest, clinging to her with all of his might. He buried his face in her hair, fighting the surge of emotion threatening to carry him away. "I love you, Kit. I feel as if I've loved you forever."
"What a coincidence. That's the way I love you." She rose up on tiptoe and her lips met his. Slow and sweet at first, then deeper and desperate. He kissed her with everything he had, all his love, all his tenderness. She still loved him. He could not believe his good luck.
His fortune had finally turned for the better. No, for the best. She was his very life. He held her against him, his sweet Kit, more grateful than there were words to say. "You said you wanted to be a spinster, but I'm hoping you'll put that one wish aside and marry me."
"Marry you?" She tipped back her head to meet his gaze. "Why, I think that's a very good idea. I would love to be your wife."
Blinding joy overpowered him. If he lived until he was one hundred, he would spend every day to come cherishing and honoring her. Love was too small of a word for what he felt.
"Come with me." She took his hand. "Let's go home."
Home. There was no better word than that.
Epilogue
Nine months later
Kit gave the bow on the wrapped gift a final tug. There, just right. She set it on the lace tablecloth beside the other packages. May sunshine streamed through the glass panes of the wide windows that looked over the lush green prairie. Horses grazed in the meadow, newly planted saplings waved their leaves in the warm breeze and tried to shade the house. Kit spun the wedding ring on her fourth finger, looking for her husband.
There he was, in the paddock with Fred, holding a long line. He whistled, brought the red and white mare in and stroked her nose. Renegade tossed her head, pleased with herself, and tried to steal his hat. He laughed, his goodness shining through. The sun painted him in shades of gold and bronze, emphasizing his broad shoulders braced straight and strong.
Joy spiraled through her simply watching him. The last nine months had been perfect spent with him. Tannen was safely in jail, and Beauregard had kept Dakota's past secret, perhaps finally seeing in him the truth about his past, too.
They'd married in September after completing the house and invited half the town. Pa had shown up in time to give her away, Skinny brought his guitar, and he and Baldy sang duets at the reception in the yard. She smiled remembering waltzing in her husband's arms, where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.
"Uncle Howie's comin'!" Fred dashed through the door, breathing hard. "I saw them from up on the ridge. Pa is in the wagon. He came, like he said he would."
"Are you going to—" meet them, she intended to ask, but Fred was already gone. He'd flourished here and was doing well in school, staying at the top of his class. He'd grown close to Dakota, who drove him and Mindy to school every day.
"I can't believe all of that is for me," Mindy breathed, emerging from her bedroom. She looked dear in her new pink calico dress, made special for the day. Her hair was pinned up; she was a young lady now. Today was her fifteenth birthday. "Oh, Kit, the cake looks beautiful, too. All that frosting. It's too pretty to eat. I've never had a birthday like this."
Mindy was right. They had found prosperity, a comfortable life and happiness. Things that had been dreams far out of reach only a year ago. It was amazing how things could change.
And how much difference one good man could make.
"Don't you even think about helping in the kitchen," she said, pointing to the door. "Go out and wait in the sunshine for Pa."
Mindy grabbed her crocheting and twirled out the door. The May breeze smelled like wildflowers and growing grass. Kit stepped through a patch of sunshine from the kitchen window, hoped her nausea wouldn't flare up and took the pan from the oven. Buttery dumplings and succulent chicken bobbed in pepper gravy. Mindy's favorite. She set the pot on the counter, put one hand on her stomach and headed for the door. Better safe than sorry. But the nausea faded as soon as she stepped into the fresh air.
Blue spotted her and whinnied from his pasture. Head up, ears pricked, red mane rippling in the wind, he was a welcome sight. She waved to him, intending to slip into the cellar and fetch him a carrot before Uncle Howie and Pa drove up.
But her husband stopped her. "Hello, gorgeous. Don't tell me you have eyes for another guy."
"Impossible." She laughed, letting him fold her into his arms. Cuddled against his chest, with the heat of his hard body pressed to hers, she couldn't think of a better place to be. Paradise. The future spread out like the dazzling prairie, full of brightness and hope. They would raise a family, train horses and grow old together as their devotion deepened day by day. It sounded like a good life to her. A very good life.
"I think Pa's going to be happy with our news," she said.
"Not as happy as I am." He cupped her face with both hands, holding her tenderly. "Come Christmas we'll have the best gift of all."
"Our baby." She went up on tiptoes to meet his kiss. She melted, giving herself up to him. Places within her went tender, her heart filled with bliss. She kissed him with all the gentleness she was capable of, holding tight to this good man whose love had made every one of her dreams come true.
An excerpt from Jillian's next western historical romance, coming soon:
Priority Male
Graham Brelin held back a moan as the train lurched to a stop at some little town along the way. The bullet wound he'd taken to the chest awhile back was healing up, but it still hurt if he moved or breathed too hard. He glanced around the crowded train compartment. Looked like no one had noticed. Likely the good and proper citizens surrounding him in the packed passenger car wouldn't be too pleased to know a rough man like him was within shooting distance.
He couldn’t blame them.
"Are we there yet, Uncle?" A set of wide brown eyes peered over the back of the seat in front of him.
"Yeah, we've been sitting
forever
." An identical pair of eyes peered up at him.
"No, this isn't our stop." Graham sighed, wincing in pain again. His twin nieces had matching black bangs and ringlet curls framing their button faces. Where their cuteness came from was a mystery, since the Brelins were normally a ragtag bunch. "I told you. Sit still until we get there."
Perhaps his tone boomed out far more harshly than he'd intended.
As if she'd been struck, Katie gulped. "Yes, sir."
Krissy's wide eyes brimmed. "We'll stay sittin'."
Both girls turned around, bowed their heads and sat quietly.
The woman across the aisle gave a gasp of disapproval and cast him a death glare.
Great. He felt like a horse's ass. He rubbed a hand over his face, aware of the woman across the aisle and her continued stare of judgment.
Hell, he had no experience with children. He was one sorry caretaker, and he'd be the first to admit it. He'd spent the last decade wrangling outlaws and hunting down the most dangerous men in the territory, but he was the only one left in his family who could fetch the girls and take them on the journey north. He wasn't the right man for the job, but he was doing the best he could.
"I didn't mean to bark at you." He wasn't good at apologies either. In his line of work there was no apology for what he had to do. He lived a hard life. That's the way it had to be.
"It's all right." Krissy gripped the seat back with her small hands, gazing up at him with her caramel colored eyes. Everything about her was small. Fragile. Easy broken. "Ma told us all about you."
"Yeah, that you're about as cuddly as a piece of iron left outside in the winter." Katie rested her chin on the seat back. "Ma always said she loved you anyway and we was supposed to, too."
Krissy nodded in agreement.
He grimaced against the pain in his chest. Surely that twist he felt was from his bullet wound and not his heart. That had turned to steel long ago. Nothing was going to make it buckle, not even these two.
"Well, I only like you both because I have to. We're related by blood." He fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with saying anything emotional, even if he felt it, since this was more than he'd revealed of his feelings in two decades.
The woman across the aisle made a strangled, censorious sound and clamped her lips tightly together. If looks were daggers, he'd be dead by now.
"We understand, Uncle Grim." The twins had made up a nickname for him. They shared a secret smile.
"Yeah, we know you don't wanna take us to Granny, but you have to." Krissy's round face crinkled sympathetically. "We gotta do things all the time that we don't wanna do."
"Yeah, like eat our vegetables." Katie's head bobbed, making her ringlets bounce.
"Vegetables. Bleck." Krissy made a face and the girls shivered together at the idea. "Do you think bein' with us is as bad as havin' to eat beets?"
"Maybe." Katie scrunched her face while she considered it. "The orphanage lady said we were a trial."
"Then maybe we could be even worse than beets." Worry lines cut into Krissy's forehead. She trained her big baby-doll eyes on him. "Do you think we're that bad, Uncle Grim?"
"Well, I
am
partial to beets. But compared to radishes, I'd guess I'd choose you two. Maybe."
The woman across the aisle turned redder than a radish.
"We'll try and do better, honest." Little crinkles dug into Katie's forehead.
"We don't wanna hafta go back to the orphanage." Krissy blew out a little puff of air, a vulnerable sound.
His gut clenched up. He didn't like vulnerable. Perhaps his years as a lawman had hardened his steely nature even more, taking him beyond all hope. He didn't have a single domestic instinct in his body; it had been beaten out of him as a kid. But at least he'd learned something as that boy protecting his sister from their father's wrath: You make yourself as tough as you can. You don't let a single weakness show.
Those lessons saw him well through life, but right now he was a fish out of water.
"Listen up. You two just stop worrying and sit down proper." He tried to soften his voice, although he must not have done well enough since the woman across the aisle went ramrod straight, fisting her hands as if she were debating smacking him a good one. He likely deserved it. "You girls won't go back to that orphanage as long as I'm alive. That's a promise you can count on."
"Thank you, Uncle Grim." The creases furrowing Krissy's forehead eased. "I'll do my best not to worry."
"And I'll do my best to sit proper." Katie gave a small giggle.
He bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. Marshal Graham Brelin, the toughest Range Rider in Montana Territory, did
not
smile. No way, no how. He'd rather be shot dead.
* * *
Look for
Priority Male
, book one in the
You've Got Mail
series, featuring hot dudes, fun heroines, humor, adventure, mail-order brides and heart-tugging endings. Coming in 2013. Love is the greatest adventure.
Also Available
Jonah's Bride
Garnet's Treasure
The Rancher's Return
MacLain's Wife
The Wedding Vow
Sara's Gift
Hannah's Heart
A Candle in the Window
Lissa's Cowboy
The Keepsake
About the Author
Jillian Hart makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not writing away on her next book, she can be found reading, going to lunch with friends and spending quiet evenings at home with her family.
