“Absolutely. Guest of honor needs to circulate.” He held up his glass. “I need a refill, anyway.” With a polite nod to Sierra, he ambled toward the cash bar.
“I’ve been dying for a chance to get you alone all night!” Sierra said. “Short of stalking you on your way to use the ladies’ room, this seemed like my best opportunity.”
“It has been hectic. Good hectic, obviously. Who could possibly complain about such an outpouring of felicitations?” Odd, though, that she had talked to dozens of people tonight and still felt so lonely. “What can I do for you?”
Sierra bit her lip. “Okay, I hope this isn’t an incredibly insensitive faux pas—I know tonight’s a big night for you—but I have something I need to tell you.”
“Out with it then.” Of all Becca’s friends, Sierra was the one who most bluntly spoke her mind. Now that she had her attention, what could be slowing her down? Unless she was afraid of ruining Becca’s jubilant mood? “Is it bad news? Did Truitt demand a recount or something?”
“Nothing like that! Just the opposite. I have great news.” She leaned close so that Becca could hear her whisper over the chatter of partygoers. “I’m engaged.”
Becca barely managed to contain an undignified whoop of glee. “Seriously? Oh, honey, that’s fantastic!” She squashed her friend in a hug that no doubt wrinkled both their dresses. “When did this happen?”
“This morning. He proposed on a napkin.”
“He what?” Becca raised an eyebrow, about to be disappointed in Jarrett. He’d lived his whole life in Cupid’s Bow and knew all the most romantic places. What was this nonsense about a napkin?
Sierra, however, was beaming, no trace of disappointment in her glowing expression. “It’s this thing he does...leaves me romantic notes next to my morning coffee, written on napkins. This morning’s said ‘Will you marry me?’ Then when I said yes, we ditched the coffee in favor of celebratory mimosas, and he carried me back to our bedroom and—” Her cheeks went rosy. “Well, it was all much more romantic than it probably sounds.”
“Actually, it does sound romantic.” The idea of waking up to someone who adored you each morning? Someone who showed his affection by making coffee and jotting love notes? A twinge went through Becca as she thought of the times she and Sawyer had shared in her kitchen, those predawn moments when it had been just the two of them, him teasing her over the rim of his coffee mug and making her grin even though smiling at 6:00 a.m. seemed vaguely unnatural.
Enough with the melancholy. Tonight is a celebration! Not just for her, but for one of her closest friends. “So is there a ring yet?” she asked, looking down at Sierra’s hand.
“Yes, but I didn’t wear it tonight. We didn’t want to upstage you with a public announcement—only family knows—but I had to tell you! I’m hoping you’ll be my maid of honor.” Sierra grinned. “If you’re not too busy running Cupid’s Bow.”
“Oh, I will be such a good maid of honor,” Becca vowed, touched that Sierra had asked her. “I’m very detail oriented. And I have pull. Anything you two want for the ceremony, it’s done.”
“See? This is why you’re my favorite control freak! But honestly—” she sighed, peering through the crowd until her gaze landed on her handsome rancher “—the main thing I want for the ceremony is just to walk down the aisle to that guy right there.”
As if he sensed her gaze, Jarrett glanced up from the conversation he was having with Sierra’s coworker Manuel. When his eyes locked with his fiancée’s, his expression became so intimately tender that Becca almost felt like a voyeur standing there. The two of them were going to be so happy together—a fairy-tale ending she could believe in.
No, what they had was better than a fairy tale. It was a partnership.
That’s what I want. And yet she was used to running her own household, unaccustomed to thinking of anyone as an equal partner. She knew from her divorce that it was a risk, depending on someone and suddenly waking up one day to find they were no longer there. But for happiness like Sierra and Jarrett shared, wasn’t it worth the attempt?
* * *
SAWYER SMILED AT his family, touched to be here sharing Sunday dinner with them for the first time in years. When he’d come home five days ago, things had been awkward at first, tentative. It had probably helped smooth the way when Sawyer declined his brother’s offer to formally become part owner in the ranch.
“I appreciate it,” Sawyer had said sincerely. “But this isn’t where I want to be permanently. I’m still weighing options.”
“Oh, thank God.” Charlie had looked relieved. “Because the offer was genuine, but I still have some control-freak tendencies.”
Sawyer had clapped him on the back, his smile bittersweet. “Some of my favorite people do.”
Since that conversation, tensions in the house had eased considerably. And now his mother was standing, her eyes glistening with emotion, honoring him with a toast. “To Sawyer. All I’ve wanted was for you to make peace with your brother and father, return to the bosom of your family. And my prayers have been answered!” Smiling, she pressed a hand to her heart. “Now, are you going to leave of your own volition, or do I have to kick you out?”
He blinked. “Pardon?”
“Honey, we love having you on the ranch, and you’re always welcome,” she said. “But, um, isn’t there somewhere else you’d rather be?”
“She means with Becca,” Charlie added, “in case you’re too much of a chucklehead to suss that out for yourself.”
“Wh-what?”
“Oh, come on.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “You’ve been to how many places since we saw you last, won how many rodeos? But have you been telling us about any of them? No. We keep hearing stories about your landlady and a little town called Cupid’s Bow.”
Even taciturn Charles Sr. spoke up. “You’re obviously in love with the girl, so she must be special. McCall men don’t run from commitment.” The loving glance he exchanged with his wife was mirrored at the other end of the table between Charlie and Gwen.
Sawyer should have felt uncomfortable, like a fifth wheel. Instead, what he experienced was a sharp mental clarity that had eluded him since he’d left Cupid’s Bow with a bruised ego and a half-assed plan to make amends with his family. He was being a chucklehead. Did he want to stay here, seeing Becca only in the Cupid’s Bow Clarion articles he looked up at 3:00 a.m. like some sort of internet stalker, or did he want to admit that he should have been more patient? More understanding about her reservations? She had a child to think about and a divorce behind her; she couldn’t just throw herself headlong into a relationship with a guy she’d known less than a month. The only reason Sawyer had even wanted her to was because he’d fallen so hard for her.
He turned to his older brother. “You are absolutely right.”
Charlie leaned back in his chair. “You want to run that by me again?”
Sawyer laughed. “No. Once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.”
“Still... Sawyer McCall willing to say I was right. I guess miracles do happen.”
Good. Because he might need one to make things right with Becca.
* * *
SAYING GOODBYE TO his family hadn’t been difficult, since Sawyer didn’t plan to wait so long this time before seeing them again. Still, he appreciated the few minutes of privacy with Charlie out by his truck. He had a few things he needed to say to his brother.
But Charlie was staring past him, squinting at a minivan coming down the drive. “Now, who do you suppose that is?”
Sawyer’s heart turned over in his chest, thudding in wild hope. “She’s here.”
“Becca?” Charlie grinned, then started loping toward the house. He called over his shoulder, “Try not to screw this up, man.”
Sawyer took deep breaths, but the sight of her as she climbed out of the v
an shook his composure. God, he’d missed her. “B-Becca?” He couldn’t believe he was seeing her in person.
Her smile was crooked, endearingly uncertain. “Surprised?”
“Stunned. What are you doing here? Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” he hastily added.
“I needed to talk to you—about us. If there’s still a chance we can be an ‘us.’ Sawyer, I’m so sorry about how I handled our relationship.” Guilt shone in her eyes. “I want to be with you. I want everyone in Cupid’s Bow to know, which probably doesn’t mean as much to you now that the election’s over—”
“Are you kidding me, woman?” He reached for her, tugging her into his arms. She wanted him. Enough to track him down and drive all the way here, down unpaved roads MapQuest didn’t know existed, to tell him in person. “It means more than I can put into words. My life is flexible, ungrounded. I should have recognized that, with all your responsibilities, you have to be more cautious. I pushed too hard, and I’m sorry.”
He crushed her in a fierce hug. Having spent the last couple miserable weeks without her, he never wanted to let her go again. He expelled a breath that was half groan, half chuckle. “Dammit, I was going to ride back into town and sweep you off your feet, but you beat me to it.” That was his Becca; she knew her own mind and took action.
She met his eyes, her gaze searching. “You aren’t really annoyed I’m here, are you?”
“Hell, no. I’m annoyed at myself for letting wounded pride come between us, but mostly I just feel grateful.” He wanted to kiss her with all the pent-up need and longing he felt, but was intensely aware of the witnesses no doubt crowded together at his mother’s kitchen window.
Instead, he rocked back on his heels and cupped Becca’s face in his hands. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Joy welled inside him—not just happiness, but a sense of contented, soul-deep belonging. “I was serious about being on my way to see you.” He jerked his chin toward the bags that sat in his truck. “I’m willing to make Cupid’s Bow my home...if you’re okay with that.”
“There’s nothing I’d like more. I should warn you, though—the attic’s taken. Molly just paid me rent for the whole month. Seems wrong to kick her out.”
“I wouldn’t expect to live with you.” Not until everyone saw how serious they were and he could get Marc’s blessing on proposing to his mama. “How would that look, the mayor of Cupid’s Bow moving a boy toy in so soon after the election?”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “You assume I won?”
“I believed in you, yeah, but... I looked it up online just to make sure. Congratulations, Madam Mayor. I’m proud of you.” To hell with the onlookers. He had to kiss her.
She eagerly met him halfway, rising up on her tiptoes and clutching at his shoulders. Their fervent kiss was a celebration, a reunion, a pledge. When he finally forced himself to pull away, they were both gasping for air.
“I desperately want to get you alone,” he growled, “but my family will never forgive me if I don’t introduce you first.”
“I want to meet them, too.” Yet she hesitated, her expression endearingly vulnerable. “They just got you back. Brody said you and your brother are getting along better than you have in a decade. Will they resent my taking you away from home?”
“Home is with you.” Was it too soon to say something of that magnitude?
Apparently not. She beamed at him with so much love he felt invincible. He could win every rodeo in the world and not feel anything as sweet as the triumph of knowing he’d won her heart.
Lacing his fingers through hers, he led her toward the house. “I really do like Cupid’s Bow, and I’ve put out some feelers for jobs in the area. But the important part is that we’re together. I want to be where you are, want to help you with Marc—not that you need it,” he said, backpedaling.
She squeezed his hand. “Sure I do. Everyone can use some help, and there’s no one I’d rather turn to. I need your perspective and your ability to make me laugh when I least expect it. And the way you can block out the rest of the world with your kiss,” she added huskily.
He stopped, trying to recall why they had to go inside instead of ducking into the barn and frantically undressing each other.
Her cheeks grew rosy under his stare, and she attempted a breezy tone. “Plus, there’s the obvious—I need you to keep me too busy to accidentally attempt global domination.”
“Oh, I have some ideas about how we could occupy your time.” He raised her hand to his lips, brushing a quick kiss across her knuckles. “But, sweetheart? If you ever want to take over the world, I’ll be right there beside you, cheering you on.” And feeling damn lucky that she’d altered his world, now and forever.
* * * * *
If you loved this novel, don’t miss the next book in Tanya Michaels’s CUPID’S BOW, TEXAS series, coming in 2018 from Harlequin Western Romance!
And check out previous books in the series:
FALLING FOR THE SHERIFF
FALLING FOR THE RANCHER
THE CHRISTMAS TRIPLETS
Keep reading for an excerpt from MADE FOR THE RANCHER by Rebecca Winters.
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Made for the Rancher
by Rebecca Winters
Chapter One
“Mr. Clayton? I’m Ross Lee from KUSM-TV. Would you mind answering a few questions?”
Surprised to hear his name called out, Wymon glanced to his left. He’d just come from a committee meeting and had walked out onto the steps of the Montana State capitol building in Helena with his close friend Jim Whitefeather, only to have a microphone shoved in his face.
“Good news travels fast,” Jim muttered. The two of them were disappointed that a final decision wouldn’t be reached for another month when they would meet with the governor again. The eager-beaver reporter already suspected the worst outcome would happen in thirty days. No doubt he considered this delay good news.
Wymon and the members of the committee had been in the public eye for the last six months raising awareness of a controversial issue close to his heart. They’d welcomed the publicity to get their message across and had held debates across the state, some of which had been in the news.
On this day, however, he would have liked to ignore the negative attention. He and Jim needed to be
diplomatic because their fight wasn’t over. They had another month to convince the public that this issue was worth fighting for.
“Naturally I’d hoped for a positive decision today,” Wymon told the reporter. “But I’m feeling confident that next month we will be successful.”
He felt the reporter bristle. “With you being the head of the Sapphire Ranch, it’s well known that you’re one of the biggest proponents for the reintroduction of the grizzly bear to the Sapphire and Bitterroot wilderness in western Montana.”
“That’s right. My colleague here, Mr. James Whitefeather of the Nez Perce tribe, is another big proponent. We’re part of a much larger group dedicated to fulfilling our initial mission statement.”
“If you would, highlight it again for our television audience.”
Taking the opportunity to speak on one of his favorite subjects, Wymon said, “Our vision is that one day the grizzly will once again have a population in northwest Montana. We want to see them interact with the greater Yellowstone area population to the south as they did hundreds of years ago when thousands of them lived here before being killed off.”
“But, Mr. Clayton—as I understand it, today’s lack of a decision means most voters in Montana believe the issue is on a downward spiral.”
“All great ideas face setbacks,” Wymon countered. “We’re continually working to get the necessary votes. In a month’s time we hope to win by a landslide.”
The reporter squinted at him. “You think that’s possible?”
“Anything’s possible, and the decisions made by our committee will serve to guide the federal and state agencies involved in grizzly bear management. It’s our belief that a new grizzly population will contribute to the balance and harmony of nature. It will also contribute significantly to long-term conservation and recovery of the species.”
The Cowboy Upstairs Page 18
