Her Rocky Trail_Seeing Ranch series

by Florence Linnington

  Cyrus smiled. He’d purchased the ring from the general store the day after they arrived in town. It had been the only diamond one there.

  “I’m not telling you that. Let a man have a little mystery. It’ll keep his wife wanting him.”

  Kitty blushed at that, a sight that made Cyrus’ temperature rise.

  “Where’s Helen?”

  “She went to get the chicks from Mrs. Garrison. Twelve total. Won’t it be nice to have fresh eggs?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Cyrus was busy thinking about something else quite far off from eggs and chickens. “Will she be back soon?”

  “I imagine within the next few minutes. Is everything all right?”

  “Course.” Cyrus stroked her cheek. “I just don’t want her to miss our wedding, is all.”

  Kitty’s lips parted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “I talked to the reverend. He’ll marry us today if you want.”

  She made a choking laugh. “I… Cyrus...”

  “It’s fine if you don’t want to,” he quickly said, realizing his mistake. “We can wait. We can have a real wedding. One with a white dress and guests. However, you want it.”

  Kitty shook her head so fiercely some of her braid came unpinned. “Have you lost your senses, Cyrus Ross? I certainly want to marry you today! I do not wish it any other way!”

  Cyrus stared, afraid he’d heard wrong. “Yeah?”

  “Yes!” Kitty cried, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Cyrus laughed in jubilation, lifting her up so that her feet cleared the ground.

  “Let’s hurry.” Kitty yanked free of him. “I need to put my Sunday dress on. Oh, and I must take Helen’s out as well.”

  Seizing his hand, Kitty tugged him toward the house. Cyrus went willingly, allowing himself to be pulled toward the perfect future he hadn’t known he needed.

  Epilogue

  Epilogue. Kitty

  Epilogue

  Kitty spread her patches out on the table in the town hall for the other ladies to inspect. Blue. Brown. Green plaid.

  “What a wonderful selection,” Mrs. Garrison said, touching one of the patches.

  “You like it?” Kitty questioned.

  Ida Rose nodded excitedly. “It is beautiful. Bring all the pieces back next week, and we will get started.”

  Kitty smiled wide and scooped up her patches, tucking them neatly into her sewing basket.

  “Where did you get these pieces?” Gemma asked as she shrugged on her coat. “Are they all from your home?”

  “Yes. They are all from my life before Shallow Springs.”

  What Kitty didn’t say was that they were from the dresses she and Helen wore through their trials in the mountains. When the time had come to throw those outfits away, Kitty found she could not bear the thought. Admitting that she did not wish to see the fabrics anymore meant that they had power over her, and that was not the case at all.

  So, now she was making a quilt with them. Each time she looked at the spread, she felt a bit better. She remembered how strong she had become. How brave Helen had become. How loving Cyrus was.

  “Where is Helen?” Ida Rose asked at the door. A few of the women had already departed, letting in the cold November air in their wake.

  “She is walking with Nat. They haven’t seen each other all week.”

  Ida Rose smiled knowingly. “My husband told me Nat is looking at land. He wants to build a house in the spring. And, of course, he’ll want a fine girl to live in it with him.”

  Kitty put her basket down so she could tug her gloves on. “I’ll keep that little tidbit a secret from Helen. I imagine she will want to be surprised.”

  “Certainly.” Ida Rose peeked out the window. “Oh, look. It is snowing.”

  Kitty inspected the thick flakes coming down.

  “I must get home. It is almost time for Clark’s supper.”

  “I am sorry you could not bring him this time,” Kitty sighed. “It is hard to go all weekend long without tickling the cheeks of the cutest baby in town.”

  Ida Rose laughed. “He loves his Aunt Kitty. I’ll be sure to tell him you say hello, although I am not sure whether he will understand it or not.”

  “Please do,” Kitty grinned.

  They departed the town hall, the last two to leave their weekly quilting circle. After quickly embracing her friend, Kitty set off in the direction of home. The flakes were coming down faster, twirling around and landing on her cheeks and nose. The rooftops were already coated white, and the dying light cast Shallow Springs in a hazy glow.

  Kitty took in a long breath, the crisp air refreshing her body and soul.

  Down the street, her house glowed with lamplight, welcoming her home.

  Unwinding her scarf before she even made it to the porch, Kitty burst through the door. “Hello!” she called.

  Cyrus looked over from where he was putting a fresh log in the fireplace. “Well, you’re in a cheery mood.”

  “How can I not be?” she grinned. “How was your afternoon? Are you not home early?”

  Cyrus poked the fire. “Domino is handling that argument over at Andrews’ farm.”

  “Ah,” Kitty nodded. Mr. Guthrie had become Shallow Springs’ official deputy only several months before, but he’d embraced the position with a grand enthusiasm.

  Kitty looked down the hallway, noting how silent the back rooms were. “Where is Helen?”

  “Having supper at Nat’s parents. The two of them stopped by on their way over.”

  “Ah.” She thought about the news Ida Rose had shared with her, and a warmth filled her heart. It was no secret that Helen and Nat were deep in love. They had been courting for six months, and the only thing stopping them from marrying was Nat possessing a home of his own. But, soon that would change.

  “I’ll get supper on,” she announced, hanging her outerwear on the hook by the door.

  “Hold on just a second.” In the blink of an eye, Cyrus was up and pulling Kitty into his arms.

  “Yes?” she smiled, placing her palms against his chest and gazing up into his dark eyes.

  “Do you know what today is?”

  Kitty frowned. “Saturday.”

  “Yes,” Cyrus chuckled. “And what else?”

  She thought about it some but found no answer. “I apologize, Cyrus. I am stumped.”

  “It’s the six-month anniversary of us coming to Shallow Springs.”

  “Oh!” Kitty quickly calculated, realizing he was correct. “Goodness...”

  “How should we celebrate?” Cyrus rubbed his palm against the small of her back.

  “Hm.” She snuggled closer to his chest. “How does one usually celebrate something such as that?”

  “We could kiss on it.”

  Kitty laughed. “I was thinking I should bake a cake.”

  “Naw.” Cyrus smiled. “Cake sounds nice, but I’d much rather just kiss on it.”

  Twisting his shirt, Kitty lifted her face as Cyrus brought his down. His lips swept across hers, the kiss as generous as it always was. Kitty relaxed in his hold, releasing her anxieties from the day—though truth be told, she had very few. Her life was as near perfect as any person’s could be. She had a man who loved her, a sister who was happy, and friends to laugh with. All of her wildest dreams had come true.

  Cyrus kissed Kitty harder, showing her with his touch just what she meant to him.

  And as she was to him, he was to her.

  Her heart. Her lifeline. He was all of that and more.

  As they kissed, the snow came down, covering the little town in the middle of the Wild West.

  Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving me a review. Your review is the best way that you can help new readers find my work. I appreciate your help in advance!

  Please join Florence’s Advance Reader Copy (ARC) team to read her next new book.

  Simply enter your email address via Florence’s Facebook Messenger link below
. You will then receive a free copy of her new book before it’s published, in exchange for providing a review on or around the release date of the book.

  Click either links:

  https://www.facebook.com/messages/t/florencelinningtonbooks

  or

  http://m.me/florencelinningtonbooks

  Preview of next book…

  Her Unexpected Destiny

  Preview: Chapter 1

  June 1883

  Shallow Springs was baking. May had come and gone, and still, there was no rain.

  On the hotel’s front porch, the only place a man could find a little reprieve from the summer’s cruelty, Matt Denton stood in the shade and fanned his face with his hat.

  If he squinted at the horizon, he saw furls of steam rising up from the ground. They were so thick he wondered if he’d imagined them.

  Raking his fingers through his hair, he turned and caught his reflection in the hotel’s window. He’d slicked his hair back best he could that morning, but a few wild strands still stuck up in the back. He looked about as average as he ever did, but was average good enough to meet his new wife?

  “It should be here soon,” someone said.

  Matt put his hat back on and looked over to see Sheriff Ross, thumbs hooked in his belt loops and boot on the first step of the porch, like he was considering whether or not to come up.

  “I know,” Matt answered, feeling more fidgety than ever.

  “You smell that smoke this morning?”

  “Yeah.” Matt frowned. “Where was that coming from?”

  “Wildfire south of here. About ten miles.”

  “A wildfire?” Matt gulped. He didn’t even like saying the word. Wildfires could sweep in faster than you could get your head around the situation. They could destroy everything in their path. Homes. Crops. Unsuspecting animals and people.

  Sheriff Ross did one of his slow nods. “The deputy went to check it out. It’d burned out by the time he reached it.”

  “That’s good.”

  “There might be more. God willing, there won’t be, but keep an eye out. Nostrils open.”

  “I will,” Matt promised.

  Sheriff Ross looked east—the direction the stagecoach would be coming in from.

  “She’s a week late.” Matt almost sighed but stopped himself last second.

  Sheriff Ross’s lips twitched upward. “She’ll love it here. Everyone does. Don’t you worry.”

  Turning, the sheriff strode across the street, kicking up little clouds of dust with each step. His few words had brought Matt some comfort, and he felt the coils in his stomach loosening.

  At the sight of the stagecoach coming in, however, they tightened right back up. Matt stayed frozen in place as the coach stopped in front of the hotel and the driver got down and opened the door.

  A young woman in a red dress stepped out, her dark eyes nervously scanning the area. When they fell on Matt, she, too, paused. For a long moment, they stood where they were, staring.

  Matt’s breath caught in his throat. He’d forgotten how to breathe. Lord, the lady standing in front of him was beautiful. With big, brown eyes and hair the color of chestnuts, she made Matt think of the colors of autumn, of its crisp, refreshing breezes.

  No one else exited the stagecoach, and the driver had already unloaded the woman’s bag and set it on the edge of the porch.

  One passenger. That was all.

  It had to be her.

  “Good afternoon.” Matt took off his hat and approached her. “Miss Melissa Russell?”

  She licked her lips, and there was something fearful in her eyes. “Yes?”

  “I’m Matthew. Matt. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  She nodded, the action stiff. Uncertain. She still hadn’t moved more than a few feet away from the stagecoach. As she went to pick up her bag, Matt stepped forward and snatched it up instead.

  “Let me take that.”

  “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and looked away. Her face was pale for summer, and she had none of the freckles he’d expected. Hadn’t she written about a “light dusting of freckles” across her nose in her first letter to him?

  Realizing he stared, Matt gathered his scrambled thoughts. “I imagine you’re mighty tired after such a long journey, especially with being delayed a week and all. The farm isn’t far from here. It’s the first one north out of town. My ma has your room set up for you, so you can rest right away.”

  Melissa’s shoulders relaxed, and for the first time since stepping off the stagecoach, she seemed genuinely happy. “That would be very nice.”

  “Right this way.”

  His pulse pounding in his throat, Matt led her to the side of the hotel where the wagon and team waited. Setting her bag into the back, he offered her his hand.

  Melissa studied it, considering. Everything she did took some time, Matt realized.

  Finally, she placed her fingers against his. A tingle traveled through Matt’s palm and up his forearm. He blinked at the sudden sensation before mentally shaking himself and helping her onto the bench.

  Gruffly clearing his throat, he settled next to her and took the reins. “My parents can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Truly?” Melissa looked sidelong at him. “I am excited to meet them as well.”

  It sounded as if she meant that, and Matt smiled to himself as they rode out of town.

  “There’s the sheriff’s office,” he pointed out. “The schoolhouse and church are back that way. I imagine you passed them on your way into town.”

  “Yes,” Melissa murmured. She turned her head every which way, soaking in her new home.

  “I know it’s pretty hot out there. It’s not usually this bad. Is it this blistering back in New York?”

  “Um.” For a second, she faltered, a pained look crossing her face. Yet, just as quickly as the look came, it vanished. “It is hot, but not so hot as this.”

  “It’s dry here too. Been a while since we had a rain. Folks are crossing their fingers, praying it’ll happen any day now.”

  “That will be nice,” she commented, then nodded at a house they were passing by. “That’s a lovely home.”

  “That’s where Sheriff Ross lives with his wife and sister-in-law. And see over there?” He pointed at a string of trees about a quarter mile outside town. “That’s the river.”

  “And the mountains,” Melissa murmured, gazing at the Rockies beyond.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they? I’ve been here twenty years, and I’m still not tired of looking at them.”

  She turned to look at him—really look at him—and they shared their first true smile. A lightness filled Matt’s chest, and he felt warmth creeping over his face. He didn’t have much experience with women. At twenty-eight, he’d courted a few girls, but that had all been years ago. Back then, in the earliest years of his twenties, he’d been more interested in helping his folks build up the farm than in finding a wife.

  By the time he realized he was ready to settle down, there were few eligible women left in Shallow Springs. Most of them were married or fixing to do just that.

  And so Matt had found his way to the mail-order bride agency out of New York. He knew several men in the area who’d done well using it, Sheriff Ross included. Figuring he didn’t have much to lose, Matt wrote in. That was a good four months ago, and he and Melissa had since exchanged a couple letters.

  Now, here she was. It was almost too much to believe.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Much better,” she answered quickly, back to avoiding his gaze.

  “A whole week of sickness...”

  “It was really only a few days. I had to wait for the next stagecoach out of Cincinatti. Is this the farm?”

  Matt looked, surprised to find that they’d already arrived. “This is it. Denton Farm.”

  Melissa looked awestricken, and pride filled Matt’s chest. The family farm was his joy, the one thing he lived for.

  But n
ow, he also had a woman to live for—someone to share the things he loved with.

  Taking her hand, he helped her down from the wagon. Again, the feel of her palm against his sent a thrill through him. He looked away, embarrassed, not wanting her to see the effect she was already having.