by Stacy Reid
Tears filled her eyes as confusion rushed in at the words
Sheridan
You will wake today. I sang for you last night to the amusement of Joshua. You have been sleeping for five days and you need to wake.
She stared at the letter in amazement. She looked at the remaining four. Elijah had written her a note every day?
She plucked up another.
Our baby is well. Doc Martin says the baby will be fine. You will only know that when you wake. I brought you lilacs.
Relief powered through her and tears pricked her eyelids. The baby was safe. It took a while for her to realize he said our baby. Sheridan made to reach for another and her eyes caught the basket under the table. Dozens of crumpled paper lay inside. And suddenly those were the ones she wanted to read, his failed attempts.
She made to reach for the bell and hesitated. She wanted to read the crumpled notes in privacy. She looked around and noticed the cane by the headboard. She reached for it and used it to hook the basket and draw it to her. Then dipped and winced at the sharp bite in her shoulders and lifted it onto the bed.
Sheridan did not understand why it was so important to read his failed attempts but she needed to. She was hungry, achy, and more than apprehensive and she knew if she rang the bell, Beth or Mrs. Clayton would come running. She dug her hand in the basket and took out one of the crumpled ball.
I ache to see your smile, the joy in your eyes
Her thumb ran across the words as if she could erase the line he had drawn through the words. She reached for the next crumbled ball. Her throat went tight with emotion.
I have been an ass. I love you so much I
She was almost afraid of the wild elation surging through her blood. With trembling hands she rested the basket on the bed. She dealt with the remaining three notes on the table. They were all terse commands about why she needed to get well, nothing about love. And she instinctively knew the crushed ones would follow in the same vein of loving words.
She placed the basket on the ground, rang the bell and eased onto the bed fully already tiring from her slight excursions. Within less than a minute Elijah swept through the door and her heart melted. His beard was gone, his hair was shorn closer to his scalp, revealing the strong lines of his handsome profile. The sleeves of his blue chambray shirt were rolled to his elbows and his jeans looked like they had barbed wire holes in them. He had never seemed more perfect to Sheridan.
“You’re awake.” He sounded gruff.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Hi.”
Her stomach chose that moment to rumble. He disappeared before she could say anything, to return a few minutes later with a tray. He walked over to her and placed it on the table. The scent of soup wafted up and her mouth watered. With efficient but gentle movements he placed a few pillows behind her and placed the tray in her lap.
She gave a small smile. “Thank you.”
He sat in the chair beside the bed and watched her with an intensity that had heat fluttering in her stomach. Her heart was singing and she wanted to shout at him that she knew he loved her. But she held her composure with a will she had not known she possessed and took small sips of the soup. The warmth hit her belly and for a few minutes she knew nothing as she demolished the bowl. She expected to feel the heave in her stomach, but it was thankfully calm.
He took the tray and placed it on the table.
She stared into his serious mien, her heart clamoring. Why was he so closed away? Fear suddenly surged. What if the reason he had crumpled the letters were because he was not sure if he loved her and he was still going to leave?
“We need to talk. Are you feeling well enough?”
She nodded as dread and anticipation combined beating inside her heart. If he told her he was leaving she would smack him over the head with the cane. She would then wait until she was healed and then follow him up to his mountain until he relented and could do nothing but love her. For her the moment of clarity when she had been shot had been knife sharp. Elijah was home for her whether it be with him at the Whispering Creek, in the mountain cabin or at the Triple K, and she would be damned if she allowed him to take the coward’s way out.
***
“Sheridan.” Elijah felt her start when he gripped her hand and laced their fingers together. She gazed at him with weary determination, and then looked down at their clasped hands.
He paused glancing away for long seconds. He did not know how to offer soft words. When they had been together he had communicated with touch, with passion, yet he felt he could not do so now. “You are the strongest woman I know, and I would be honored to have you for my wife, if you will have me.”
He chuckled at the look of sheer shock that bloomed on her face. He dipped and pressed a hard kiss to her parted lips. Before she could respond he lifted his head. “When you got shot, I almost died. My world went dark and I was almost useless to you. I always believed I was not strong enough to lose someone I loved again and survive. Not brutally. Not bloodied and broken.”
Something twisted within Elijah, something very close to the emotion he had felt the first time he took her in his arms. “I am not an easy man. Nor do I think I will be singing you songs, but I will bring you flowers every day except during the winter time.”
She laughed and it wrapped around his heart and warmed him in ways he never expected. “I will protect you and our children until my breath leaves my body. And I will equip you and any children we have with the ability to survive in this land. More than survive it. I will teach you how to remain strong in the face of danger and hardship. How to fight when something is worth fighting for. How to defend, how to love, and how to never abandon hope.”
She nodded happily. “I will marry you Elijah.”
She tried to hug him and winced.
“Move easy,” he said and ensured she was propped comfortably.
“You are happy about the baby?” she asked him and he hated that she still seemed anxious.
Sometimes he found simple honesty to be the best response. “Yes.”
Her smile dimmed. “Do we know who shot me?”
He exhaled shortly. “Yes.”
“Sullivan?”
“I visited him and he swore it was not him.”
Her eyes widened. “You visited him?”
Elijah gave her the unvarnished truth. “Sullivan woke as the sun was rising to see the barrel of my Winchester in his face.”
She sucked in a harsh breath. “Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief filled her blue eyes. “Why did he do it?” She whispered, her hands going protectively to her belly.
“He swore he did not give any such order nor did he pull the trigger himself.”
“You believed him?”
Elijah thought back on the man’s fear. He’d believed that Sullivan in his bitterness had ordered for Sheridan to be killed. But beyond the terror of facing down a rifle at such close range, he had seen the truth behind Sullivan flustered speech. Elijah had warned him a final time that Sheridan was his and he would marry her. So if there was any thought to harm him to get to her, they would have to take on his brothers and the triple K. But Sullivan had pointed the fingers at Bartley and Joshua had gone hunting. And it seemed spot on, for Bartley had left the crazy eight shortly after. But Elijah was confident Joshua would find him. It had curdled Elijah’s gut to tell Joshua to bring Bartley in to face the law and not kill him. Joshua had treated Elijah to a cold smile, and he had known in that moment he would never see Bartley again.
“I believe him. Sullivan will never hound you again. I have made it known to all that you are my woman, and you will be my wife.”
Her shoulder relaxed and she bestowed on him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen from her. “So confident of my response were you?”
He nodded. “Very”.
She chortled and then sobered. “I love you, Elijah, more so every day.”
“I know.”
“And I will endeavor to be a woman that you are proud of, a strong woman.”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, “You already are, Sheridan. You’re already that woman.”
Then he claimed her lips in a kiss.
Three months later…
Elijah and Sheridan exchanged their vows overlooking the prairie with Joshua and Beth as their witnesses. Sheridan stood under the gazebo Elijah had built for her, staring at the daunting beauty of the mountains. The gazebo was a replica of the one she’d had as a child at her Somerset home in England. A smile curved her lips as she remembered the many ways Elijah tried to bring a piece of her England back to her. She rubbed her distended stomach in gentle motions. She had four more months to go and she was anticipating the birth of their child so much. Joy squeezed her heart as strong arms wrapped her from behind and Sheridan relaxed into Elijah.
She was home.
The End
To my wonderful readers, thank you for picking up my book and giving me a chance! Thank you. Special THANK YOU to everyone who leaves a review—bloggers, fans, friends. I have always said reviews to authors are like a pot of gold to leprechauns. Thank you all for adding to my rainbow one review at a time!
Feeding your reading addiction one book at a time! See below some teasers for other sweet and sensual historical reads!
THE CAPTAIN’S REBEL
By C.B. Halverson
Never surrender.
Land. Power. Influence. Mary O’Malley knows these are the only things that matter in her war-torn country. Determined to win back her ancestral home, she must embark on a journey across the Atlantic disguised as a cabin boy. But her ruse brings her under the control of a dangerous sea captain who demands from her the one thing she will never give—complete and total submission.
Captain Richard Grant runs a tight ship, and he didn’t claw his way up through the ranks of the Royal Navy to be undone by a headstrong Irish girl hell-bent on jeopardizing his mission and his crew. If she insists on dressing like a man, then she can take his punishments. He demands obedience, but his insatiable need for her leads to a complex game of sex, desire, and dominance not even he can control.
Awakened by the passion Grant stirs in her, Mary finds herself falling for the stern captain. But when her false identity leads to rumors of her spying for the French, she must choose between her love for Ireland and the man who commands her body—and her heart.
Teaser…
“What are you doing aboard my ship?”
I swallowed hard, my lip trembling as I fumbled for the words. I didn’t even know where to start, and my face burned as I tried to gather my thoughts. No matter how I told the story, it all seemed so ridiculous.
“Tell me!” he commanded.
“I’m searching for my fiancé.”
He took a step forward, his boots thudding hard on the floor. “Your fiancé.” He took another step, and I flinched. The ship rolled and tumbled beneath my feet, and I grasped onto the panels, my fingers digging into the polished oak planks.
“Are you mad?” His fists clenched at his sides, powerful and trembling.
“It would look that way, sir.” My eyes drilled into a tiny knot on the floor, willing myself to shrink in size so I could dive into it and scurry away like a little mouse. But his boots thundered forward, the small buckles making a sound like clinking chains.
“Are you in some sort of trouble? Is that it? Are you with child?” His voice softened, and I looked up, startled at the sudden change in his tone.
“No, sir.”
“Well, then?” he boomed.
I jumped, folding myself deeper into the corner of the room. What could I have possibly said to him in that moment? Telling Captain Grant that Johnny’s father had accused me of stealing, so I had to run away to consummate our marriage in order to clear my name and win back my homeland was perhaps not the best way to endear myself to him.
“There’s been…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “There’s been trouble at home.”
Grant let out an exasperated sound, shaking his head and turning away with a curse. “You do understand you are aboard a ship with over seven hundred male sailors, correct? A woman has no place on a ship of the line bound for battle. I cannot guarantee your safety.”
“I know that, sir.”
“And due to the nature of our mission, I am in no position to turn us around.”
“Yes, sir.”
He shook his head, pacing the room. “You have endangered yourself and my men with your presence. I know officers who would hang you for treason against England for what you have done.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not English, then.” The words popped out before I could stop them, my latent nationalism waving a pitiful green flag in the dim light of the Captain’s chambers.
A muscle flickered in his jaw, and when he turned to me again, I nearly gasped at the rage in his bright eyes. All the blood drained from my face, and I bit my lip, willing my saucy tongue to hold still.
“You think this is some sort of game?” His eyes narrowed, and he pressed closer to me.
My courage fired back, and I straightened, raising my shoulders in a challenge.
His eyes flitted over me from head to toe, and he made a low sound in the back of his throat. “I should throw you overboard and let the fish eat at your rebel heart.”
“Better to die a rebel than live as a slave.”
Only a Duke Will Do
By Tamara Gill
Without a Season, Lady Isolde Worthingham captured the Duke of Moore’s heart at a country dance. But on the eve of her wedding, a scandal that rocked the ton and sent her fleeing to Scotland alone and unwed, leaves her perfectly planned future in a tangle of disgrace and heartbreak.
Merrick Mountshaw, the Duke of Moore loathes the pitiful existence he hides from the ton. With a scandalous wife he never wanted, who flaunts her many indiscretions, life is a never-ending parade of hell. When the one woman he loved and lost returns to London, he knows he can no longer live without her.
But vows and past hurts are not easily forgotten. Love may not win against the ton when a too proper Lord and Lady play by the rules.
About the Author
I am an avid reader of novels with a deep passion for writing. I especially love romance and enjoy writing about people falling in love. I live a lot in the worlds I create and I actively speak to my characters (out loud). I have a warrior way “Never give up on my dream.” When I am not writing, I spend a copious amount of time drooling over Rick Grimes from The Walking Dead, Lucas Hood from Banshee, watching Japanese Anime and playing video games with my love—Dusean. I also have a horrible weakness for ice cream.
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Happy reading!
Stacy
