“I heard that,” Allie chimed in quietly from where she sat. “I’m so glad you realize that.”
“Sometimes it takes me a while,” Clay said as he glanced back at the tall cross standing there. He knew without thinking about it that he was never going to be the same.
“Some things take me some time, too,” Mark said quietly.
Clay didn’t say anything.
“That rifle—” Mark started and looked over at Clay. “Did that night happen? Did I leave you pumping gas and take that rifle into that gas station?”
The people walking behind them had started to sing a hymn, and the words wrapped around Clay with comfort.
“We can talk about it later,” Clay said. “Don’t strain to remember.”
He didn’t know how Mark would feel when he realized the enormity of what they had done.
Clay pulled the wagon into place behind the church, and everyone sitting there climbed down. Allie helped Mark into the shelter of the red pickup. By now, the sun had turned golden as it rose in the east. The stones in the cemetery were bathed in light, and Clay saw others looking to the graveyard, as well.
Allie walked over and stood beside him as he eyed the small crosses on the burial ground. The hymnal being sung changed, and Clay heard words about Jesus conquering death. He understood now why the people of Dry Creek celebrated Easter morning with as much joy as they could muster and why they did so in the presence of their departed loved ones.
Clay listened to the pastor’s Easter sermon, the peace inside him growing.
When the service was over and everyone else had gone inside to have coffee, Clay stood with Allie back by the wagon. He could see in her eyes that she had questions for him.
“I need some time,” he told her. “I’m not the man today that I will be in a few weeks. I plan to talk with the pastor and get my life on track with God. I’m not going to ask you to wait for me, but when you come back next time from Jackson Hole, I want to talk to you about the future.”
Allie looked at him soberly. “The future or our future?”
“Ours,” he said. “I hope.”
“I don’t need to wait,” she said softly.
“Oh.” That didn’t sound promising to Clay. “I wanted to have a chance to show you I can be better. You deserve a good husband and...”
He didn’t know what else to say. Life didn’t always give second chances. He looked down at Allie and stood silent. He’d endured loneliness for most of his life. He could handle it again.
* * *
Allie looked up at him. She’d dreamed about Clay for over four years. When she’d known him earlier her feelings had been more a teenage crush than anything. Getting to know him now, though, she could see the solid foundation of his character. He was a good man. He was her man.
“The answer is already yes,” Allie whispered. “If you need time to think about it, that’s fine, but don’t expect me to change my mind.”
Allie watched the sun rise again in Clay’s eyes. He reached up and traced her cheek with an expression of wonder on his face.
“I never thought,” he murmured.
She reached her own hand up to touch his cheek.
“I love you,” he said simply.
Allie knew he did. Clay never lied.
“You’re going to make me cry,” she said.
“That won’t do,” Clay said with a smile as he dipped his head toward her.
The kiss was her undoing. A flash of sweet promise sizzled through her as his lips explored her.
“I love you, too,” she said.
It wasn’t until they parted that they noticed half the people in the church were watching them from the building’s back window.
“Oh, oh,” she said.
Clay gripped her shoulder in support.
Then she saw the people act in unison, all giving her an exuberant thumbs-up signal.
“I think that’s your welcome home.” She smiled as she turned to Clay.
She knew then that, as long as she lived, she would never forget the look of wonder on Clay’s face.
Epilogue
In June of that same year
Sunshine streamed in through the side windows, but Allie stood in the shadows at the back of the Dry Creek church. She clutched a bouquet of pink roses in one hand and held her father’s arm with the other. She hoped no one could see how nervous she was. All she could do was stare ahead at Clay as he stood in the charcoal-gray suit he’d bought especially for today. He was hundreds of feet away, but she could feel his gaze warming her. Suddenly, she was calm.
She and Clay had wanted a simple wedding, but the women of the church asked to be part of the celebration, and now everything shone. Rose bouquets lined the aisle and gave a sweet scent to the air. Two of the town’s best seamstresses had made Allie’s white silk dress. Another had made a short veil for her head. Every pew was filled with neighbors and friends, all of them attired in their Sunday-best clothes.
Allie and Clay had finished their marriage counseling with the pastor weeks ago, and he had pronounced them a good match. Now he looked over at Clay with approval and nodded.
That was the signal for Doris June Hargrove to stand and walk up to the piano.
Allie took a deep breath and turned.
“It’s almost time,” she whispered to her father.
He nodded before glancing back at the church door furtively.
“They’re not coming,” Allie said.
Everyone had thought her brother’s old girlfriend, Hannah, would relent and allow Allie’s nephew to attend the wedding.
“She’s got to talk to Mark eventually,” her father muttered.
“Hannah says not,” Allie countered. A curt note had come from a lawyer last week; Hannah had been informed of the change in Mark’s condition and he had tried to contact her, asking to meet his son, but she never answered any of Mark’s messages.
Allie didn’t know what to do. Mark had regained his memory and told all of the people in Dry Creek what had really happened the night of the robbery. He knew Jeremy was his son. But Hannah kept refusing to see him or to let him see Jeremy.
Allie told herself there was nothing she could do about it today.
The music to the wedding march started. Allie and her father began to walk forward.
From then on, Allie couldn’t think of anyone but Clay. His voice when he spoke his vows made her shiver. She couldn’t believe she had wanted to send this man away when he appeared back at the ranch in March.
When Clay finished his vows, he added something they hadn’t rehearsed.
“Allie Nelson, I will love you until the day I die,” he said with such sincerity that Allie heard a flutter of sighs in the pews behind her.
“And I will love you,” Allie said, blinking back tears.
Clay kissed her then, fierce and hard like he was sealing a bargain.
The pastor cleared his throat indulgently. “We’re not quite to that part of the ceremony yet.”
A ripple of soft chuckles came from the pews.
“We don’t mind doing it twice,” Clay said with a grin.
Allie said her vows, her voice not wavering once.
“And now,” the pastor said, “I pronounce you man and wife.” He turned to Clay. “You can now officially kiss your bride.”
Allie felt the warmth of that kiss right down to her toes. She was happy and knew Clay was, too.
* * * * *
If you liked this story,
pick up these other heartwarming books
from Janet Tronstad:
SLEIGH BELLS FOR DRY CREEK
LILAC WEDDING IN DRY CREEK
WILDFLOWER BRIDE IN DRY CREEK
SECOND CHANCE IN DRY CREEK
ALASKAN SWEETHEARTS
Available now from Love Inspired!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from WINNING OVER THE COWBOY by Shannon Taylor Vannatter.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
Dear Reader,
I know from the emails you (my readers) send that many of us go through periods of discouragement, especially during the winter months. Life sometimes seems a little harder when the ground is cold. But when those first signs of spring appear, everything is better. Grass starts to grow. New buds appear. Hope comes alive. I tried to capture that feeling of new life in my Easter for Dry Creek. The book starts with a freezing late-winter snow and a family in need of healing.
If this past winter has been hard for you, I pray my book points you to a time of reflection on the new life God gives us anytime we ask, but especially at Easter. If you do find the book helpful in that regard, please email me through my website at www.JanetTronstad.com. Just click where it says to contact me. I love to hear from my readers.
In the meantime, may your spring be enriched in many ways with new hope in God’s love and a deepening connection to nature’s beauty. I am blessed because, in my new home in central California, I enjoy a dozen rosebushes that sit right outside my patio. The red, pink and yellow flowers cheer my heart every morning when I see them.
Again, I hope you will drop me a note through my website. Until then, may God bless you and yours.
Sincerely yours,
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards & Instantly earn a FREE ebook of your choice.
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever & whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS.
Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!
Register Today & Earn a FREE BOOK*
*New members who join before April 30th, 2017 will receive 2000 points redeemable for eligible titles.
Click here to register
Or visit us online to register at
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001
Classified K-9 Unit
These FBI agents solve the toughest cases with the help of their brave canine partners
Collect the complete series:
GUARDIAN by Terri Reed
SHERIFF by Laura Scott
SPECIAL AGENT by Valerie Hansen
BOUNTY HUNTER by Lynette Eason
BODYGUARD by Shirlee McCoy
TRACKER by Lenora Worth
CLASSIFIED K-9 UNIT CHRISTMAS by Terri Reed and Lenora Worth
Available wherever books and ebooks are sold.
Find us on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/LoveInspiredBooks
www.LoveInspired.com
Winning Over the Cowboy
by Shannon Taylor Vannatter
Chapter One
Her best friend wasn’t here anymore. And never would be again.
A knot clogged in Landry’s throat as she stood in the gravel drive. The early evening Texas sky blurred, and she blinked the moisture away.
The massive cedar structure with the endless green metal roof looked exactly as it had when she’d lived and worked here seven years before. The same as when she’d visited last fall. Nothing about the dude ranch had changed. Yet everything had.
“May I help you?” A male voice.
Landry shaded her eyes from the mid-July glare, searched the porch. Eden’s brother? Or a ranch hand? Blinded by the sun, she couldn’t tell.
Besides, she’d only met the brother three times. Two funerals and a wedding. Sounded like some rom-com, but there was nothing romantic or funny about it.
“I’m Landry Malone.” Here to claim my inheritance. As she neared the house, her vision cleared. Despite the Stetson shadowing his features, she made out Eden’s brother. Green eyes, raven hair. But the similarities ended there. The brother was all male, stubbly beard and stiff posture—a cowboy to the bone.
His gaze narrowed as she stepped up on the porch. “I’m Chase Donovan.”
“We met here at—” A rush of memories choked off her words. The backyard draped in tulle. Eden so happy, rushing off in cloud of birdseed. The last time Landry had seen her. Nine months and one week ago. She swallowed hard. “At Granny’s—your grandmother’s funeral. At Eden’s wedding.” And again at her funeral.
“I remember.” His mouth tightened, but he clasped the hand she offered, stiff and somehow disapproving. Checked his watch, as if she were late.
But she wasn’t. She was exactly on time. Was he one of those uptight people who arrived ten to fifteen minutes early wherever he went? Surely not, with his nomad lifestyle.
“We’ll talk in the office.” Despite his dour welcome, Chase opened the door for her.
A blast of air-conditioning pebbled her heated skin.
“I know where it is.” Her stomach sank. Did he plan to sell, without even talking it over? He couldn’t. Eden loved this place. Lived and breathed it. And it was their family’s heritage.
Same hardwood floors, log furnishings, cowhide chairs. Homey and safe. She wanted to look around more, but his hurried cowboy boots thudded behind her like he had somewhere else to be. One of his long strides ate up three of hers as she crossed the foyer.
She made it to the office doorway, blocking Chase with her hesitation. A silver-haired man sat at the rustic ash desk, black reading glasses resting on his bulbous nose. Granny used to sit there. And then Eden.
“Ms. Malone.” The man stood, clasped her hand and ushered her inside the room. “I’m William Abbott. We’ve been expecting you. Please, have a seat.”
Landry settled in a cowhide chair across the massive desk from him. Chase eased into the one beside her. His long legs sprawled in front of him. Totally at ease.
“As I told you on the phone, the senior Donovans left the Chasing Eden Café to their son, Elliot, and the Chasing Eden Dude Ranch to their grandchildren, Chase and Eden, effectively splitting the business.”
It was so much more than a business. It was Granny’s legacy. Eden’s heritage.
Landry’s cell buzzed, and her cheeks heated.
“Need to get that?” Chase drummed his fingers on the desk.
“I forgot to tell my mom I made it here okay.” With a wince, she fished her phone out of her pocket. “Sorry.”
“By all means, let her know you’re safe.” Mr. Abbott’s smile was understanding. “I have a daughter.”
Afraid to look at Chase, she focused on pulling up the message from Mama. R U there yet?
Yes. Talking to lawyer, she typed as quickly as she could, then turned her phone off. “Sorry.”
“As I was saying, upon Eden Donovan Miller’s death, her will comes into play,” Mr. Abbott continued, unhurried, patient. “Her last wishes were for her husband to take up to a year to decide if he had any interest in running the dude ranch.” He scanned the paperwork on the desk.
“Recentl
y, Paxton Miller signed an affidavit that he has no interest in the dude ranch. So according to Eden’s will, her half of the business goes to Ms. Landry Malone. The two of you must run the business together for two months. After that, each party may choose to run the business together or appoint another party to run it for ten months.”
Run it with Chase? After meeting him, in passing, three times? Now four. Or some stranger he’d appoint? This was her chance. Eden’s generosity had given her a reason to escape her hometown. Escape the pitying whispers. Here she’d be owner—or, at least, part owner—of a dude ranch. Instead of the jilted almost-bride. She had to make it work.
Her gaze drifted to the display of family photos on the wall. “And then what?”
“After a year, you each decide whether to keep your holdings or sell.”
Surely Chase wouldn’t want to sell his family legacy. But she remembered Eden saying he had no interest in running the dude ranch or the restaurant. That he was a free spirit. Instead of attending college, he’d traveled for several years.
“But she’s not even family. She can’t sell to some outside party.” Chase straightened in his chair, tapped the toe of his cowboy boot on the hardwood. “What if Ms. Malone opts out?”
She gasped. Was he already trying to finagle her out of her share? Why? He’d only returned from his gallivanting when Granny got sick. And he’d been content working as a trail and fishing guide and handyman while the rest of his family handled the business.
“That’s not an option for Ms. Malone. Her only choice is to maintain her share or sell.”
“We can’t sell.” She glanced at Chase, trying to keep her face neutral of the anger that was building. “Not without both of us agreeing. Can we? And how could we even sell the dude ranch when the restaurant is under the same roof?”
“The businesses are separate entities. According to Eden’s will, if one party wants to liquidate the dude ranch, the other has first opportunity to buy the selling party out and another six months to acquire the funds for a buyout. The café belongs to Elliot, no matter what’s decided about the ranch.”
Easter in Dry Creek Page 18
