by Barb Han
“What about you, Rory?” Her gaze surveyed his shoulder and then his face. “Are you in pain?”
Tears welled in her eyes but her chin jutted out in defiance. She was trying to be strong for him.
He stared into her eyes so she would know just how serious he was about what he planned to say next. “I’ll be fine the minute you agree to be my wife.”
Her chin faltered.
“Before you answer, hear me out.” His face pinched in pain as he tried to move his right arm to take her hand in his. Contact sent a bolt of lightning straight to his heart.
“You’re hurting, Rory. Don’t move.” More tears welled in Cadence’s eyes, a few spilling over and staining her cheeks.
“I wanted to ask your brothers first,” he began and she shot him a warning look.
“I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions about who I spend time with,” she countered.
He smiled at her spunk, even though it hurt like hell.
“Believe me, I know. But I want to do this the right way. No more going behind people’s backs. I already have your father’s blessing.” He patted his jeans pocket with his left hand.
At least she smiled at that, though it didn’t reach her eyes.
“If you’ll have me, I’m asking you to marry me. You’re all the family I need in this life. You and those babies are my life. You’re the only person I want to come home to every night. The one I can’t wait to see first thing in the morning. I want us to be an official family, Cadence.” His normal confidence waned. “What do you say? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tears free-fell now and he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. His breath stuck in his throat.
“I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Rory Scott. But I have to ask, what’s changed? You still love the outdoors and you’ll always see me as some sort of princess.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve always treated you as an equal. I never thought I was good enough for you before. If you tell me that I am, I promise to believe you. All I really need to know is that you love me. I want to do right by you, Cadence. My life for the past five months without you has been pure hell. There’s nothing on the range that can compete with the way I feel for you. You and those babies are all I really need for a good life, a happy life,” he said.
Cadence’s face broke into a smile. “I love you. I know who you are and I’ll be your wife on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You have to stay true to yourself. I love you the way you are and I wouldn’t dream of keeping you indoors or changing you in any way.” Her tears stemmed. “Plus, if you change for my sake, you’ll resent me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Cadence. I’m changing because I’m in love and I want to be with you. And there’s no better place than holding you when going to bed at night, comfy sheets and all.”
The sound of hurried footsteps broke into the moment.
“So much has changed in the past year,” she said. “The family has suffered a terrible loss but I realized something earlier. We’ve gained so many new faces and so much love. I don’t want to dwell on the past. I want to walk toward our future. Together with our girls.”
“I love you, Cadence Butler,” Rory said as the squawk of a deputy’s radio cut into the night air.
“Save your energy,” Cadence said. “Help is almost here and I want you back to full form soon so I can marry you.”
“As long as you agree to let us keep Boots,” Rory said. His heart filled with love for the woman by his side as she smiled.
“I insist we keep him,” she said.
“Merry Christmas, Cadence.”
“Merry Christmas.” She leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his.
He kissed her as he touched her belly. This was his family. He was home.
Epilogue
Rory turned to his wife. He’d never openly admit the look was meant to steel his nerves. Admitting weakness had never been his strong suit. Seeing Cadence’s face and quiet strength offered the reassurance he needed to take the next couple of steps toward the old bungalow-style house that needed a fresh coat of paint.
While April showers brought May flowers in many parts of the country, the first of May promised plenty of thunderstorms in Texas and the skies were welling up with clouds. The air was thick and heavy. His hospital visit and recovery were long behind him.
Cadence looked even more beautiful—if that was possible—holding their eight-week-old daughter Katie in her arms. Rory held the other bundle, Kelly, who was swaddled in a pink blanket. Two miracles. Three counting his wife.
Rory wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky, but he didn’t plan to waste his good fortune.
“I can’t wait to meet them,” Cadence said. She’d taught him so much about forgiveness in the past five months.
“I hope it turns out to be a good thing.” In forgiving others, the darnedest thing happened. He was finally able to forgive himself. For all of it. For the feeling of letting his mother down by not being able to stop his father from hurting her. For the feeling that he’d let Cadence down.
Rory stepped onto the porch. The boards creaked under his weight. The whole place could use some repairs, he noted. Easy enough to send a contractor over to help out if his parents would agree. He had no idea what mood they’d be in and part of him—a big part—had been holding off on making this house call because he hadn’t wanted to expose Cadence and the girls to his parents’ unpredictability. Cadence had made the phone call asking to meet his parents. He’d been planning to do it, putting it off, but she’d beat him to the punch. That summed up his wife on so many levels. She wasn’t one to shy away from a difficult situation. She’d put up with him and had agreed to spend the rest of her life with him. Again, he thought about how lucky he was.
Before he could knock, the door swung open and his mother stood there with a wide smile on her face. She looked surprisingly good. She wore a sleeveless dress. His gaze immediately swept her arms for bruises. There were none.
“Come inside,” she said, opening the door wide.
Rory saw his father standing behind his mother. He, too, wore a big smile. Everything looked copacetic but looks could be deceiving.
“Do you want to come in, son?” his father asked, seeming to catch on to his hesitation.
Rory glanced at the grouping of rockers on the porch. “How about sitting outside?”
He wasn’t ready to walk into that house again, a house that had brought so much pain, frustration and sorrow.
His mother nodded, still smiling as she wiped a tear from her cheek.
“You okay?” he asked, stepping aside so she could come out.
“It’s just so good to see you again,” she said as more tears sprang to her eyes. She quickly apologized as he wrapped an arm around her.
“Same here,” his father grumbled. He seemed to be fighting emotions, too.
“This is my wife, Cadence.” There was so much pride in his voice that he could hear it.
Cadence beamed at his parents. “So nice to meet you both.”
She was warmth and sunshine wrapped up into one as she exchanged greetings with his parents.
“It’s wonderful to meet you.” His mother beamed right back. “She’s beautiful, Rory. Looks like she can keep you on your toes.”
His father introduced himself before giving her a hug. It was odd to Rory but he liked what was happening with his folks.
“Who do we have here?” his mother asked, nodding toward the baby in his arms.
“Kelly. And over there is Katie.” He nodded toward the other pink bundle.
His father shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet as he moved next to Cadence.
“Please, take a seat wherever you want,” he said before
smiling at his own wife. He took his right hand out of his pocket and put his arm around Rory’s mother.
“Those are our grandbabies,” he said quietly and with a reverence Rory had never heard from his father before. Was it true? Had the man changed? Rory wanted to believe it was possible and signs pointed toward it being true.
He searched his mother’s arms for bruises again and saw none. Relief washed over him, because he was no longer a child and wouldn’t be able to hold his tongue as a man.
Was it possible his parents had changed?
Rory took a seat after Cadence. His parents took a bench, sitting next to each other as they held hands.
“Do you talk to Renee? I plan on tracking her down next,” he said as his mother peered at Katie with a huge smile practically plastered on her face.
“We found her last year. She’s making music in Nashville with Rodney,” his mother supplied.
“She followed her dream. That’s cool.” It was cool, and he applauded his sister for making good on her plans.
His mother shrugged. “You should hear them. The band’s called... Oh, shoot, Henry, what’s the name?”
Rory’s father put his hands together in his lap. “What are they calling themselves now? Sudden-something.”
“No, I think that was the name of the last one. The lead singer took off. They’d been doing backup vocals and making good money, too. But he wanted to take his act solo, so they decided to do their own thing and jobs lined up for them,” she supplied. “Oh, I know. It’s called, Double Dose of Dixie.”
His father was rocking his head.
“She and Rodney have a son. He’s the cutest thing with curls for days.” His mother’s eyes lit up when she talked about Renee and her family.
“How old is he?” It was strange to think of his sister as a mother. Rory almost laughed. No stranger than him being a father when he really thought about it.
“He’s five-years-old. They call him Rory Daniel,” his father supplied.
That news punched him in the chest.
“I should’ve stayed in touch,” he admitted.
“She says the same thing,” his father said. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Oh, yeah, show him the pictures,” his mother urged.
After a few swipes on the screen, his father handed over the phone. Cadence leaned in and Rory marveled at the five-year-old kid with the gap-toothed smile.
“He looks just like your pictures at that age,” his mother said proudly.
“He’s beautiful,” Cadence agreed. “I hope our girls get those curls.”
Being back at home was nicer than Rory had expected it to be.
“She happy?” he asked his mother.
“I believe so,” she responded. “I mean, look at them. They live in Nashville and she’s making music. They’re doing pretty well financially. It’s not like they’re making the kind of money some of the bigger acts make but it’s enough to make a good living, to make a home.”
“And how about the two of you?” he pressed. “Are you happy?”
His father leaned back and slowly put his arm around his wife. “Losing our kids taught us a thing or two about how our actions affect everyone around us. I quit drinking not too long after you left.”
His mother perked up. “He went to one of those AA meetings and before you knew it, we were in counseling.” Her eyes sparked in a way he’d never seen before. She seemed happy. “We would’ve reached out to you a long time ago but we had no idea how to reach you.”
“I’ve been out of touch. I used to be a tracker. I hunted poachers. Not being able to locate me told me I was doing my job well,” he admitted.
“Doesn’t matter, son. You’re here now. And your mother and I...” He hesitated. “I owe you an apology. When I should’ve been a father, a husband, I was too busy trying to hide my own pain. Guess I thought I could drink it away, but that only made it worse.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’ll never be perfect, but I’d like to be part of your life. I understand that might take some time after the wrongs I did. I’ve changed and...I hope that someday I’m half the man you turned out to be.”
“As far as the apology goes, I accept,” Rory said. “Forgiveness is something I’m learning from my wife. I’m still a work-in-progress. But getting to know the two of you sounds good to me.”
“I should’ve made iced tea so we can toast,” his mother said. “Well, here goes nothing.” She held out her hand as though holding on to a glass. “To second chances.”
“And new beginnings,” Cadence said, pretending to clink the imaginary glasses. “And most of all, to love.” She looked at each of his parents and then beamed at their daughters.
Rory could toast to that. To love. To the loves of his life.
And to the future ahead of them, which was something he’d always believed would be out of reach for a man like him—a real family.
* * * * *
Look for more books from USA TODAY
bestselling author Barb Han coming 2019.
And don’t miss the previous titles in the
Crisis: Cattle Barge miniseries:
Sudden Setup
Endangered Heiress
Texas Grit
Kidnapped at Christmas
Murder and Mistletoe
Available now from Harlequin Intrigue!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Delta Force Daddy by Carol Ericson.
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Delta Force Daddy
by Carol Ericson
Prologue
Pain seared through his left ankle as he put weight on it. He listed to the side, throwing out a hand to wedge it against the rocky wall of the cliff face. As the gritty surface abraded the skinned flesh on the heel of his hand, he sucked in a breath.
Sinking into a crouch, he extended his injured leg in front of him and surveyed the rocky expanse below. Even with two steady legs, hydrated and nourished, this landscape would pose a challenge to navigate. Parched, weakened by hunger and with a bum ankle, he didn’t stand a chance.
He eyed the gray skies, scuffs of cloud rolling across the expanse, promising rain and relief—and more challenges. He dragged his boot over the rocks coated with dirt. Once the rains started, rivulets of water would wash the grit from the stones, joining forces in a muddy stream, making his path to the bottom of the mountain a slippery—and dangerous—proposition.
They wouldn’t have left any witnesses.
He took a deep breath and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Did you think it was gonna be easy going AWOL in Afghanistan in the middle of enemy territory, Denver?”
His voice sounded rusty to his own ears, but it was strong enough to startle a bird from its hiding place. The bird scuttled and flapped before taking wing and soaring up to those threatening clouds. He watched its ascent with something like envy roiling in his gut.
He willed himself to stand up—he owed it to Knight and the others to persevere. He stomped his bad foot and secured the laces on his boot—the tighter, the better for support. He hoisted his backpack and belted it around his waist. He strapped his rifle across his body. Couldn’t afford to lose that if he took a fall.
The first step jolted his bones, and he gritted his teeth. The next step felt worse, but at least he didn’t slide down the mountain.
Several more yards of jerky movement and his face broke into a sweat, which dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. Maybe this descent would work better by touch and feel than sight, anyway. He didn’t need to see the view if he pitched off a cliff.
Something scrabbled behind him, dislodging several small stones that tumbled down and peppered the back of his legs. He could get lucky and ride down with an avalanche.
“Meester.”
Ripping his sidearm from its holster, he whipped around and took aim at...a boy. The boy looked down at him from several feet above, clinging to the side of the mountain like a goat.
Denver’s muscles coiled, and he spat out in guttural Pashto, “Who are you? Where did you come from?”
The boy’s eyes grew round, crowding out the other features in his gaunt face. Then he raised an old Russian rifle, pointed it at him and said, “American soldier. You die today.”
