by Reina Torres
She shook with silent laughter when he stopped to push open the gate and step through, only to close it a second before Down’s beak was caught. She had a vague fluttering image of the rooster, but then all she could see was, “Quinn.”
He heard the breathless tone of her voice and smiled. He was fairly breathless himself. “Birdie.” Hundreds of words tumbled over and over in his head, fighting to be the first spoken from his lips. Even with all the time he’d spent trying to order his thoughts, he’d managed to trip over his emotions when it mattered most. “I was hoping I wasn’t too late.”
She looked back at him, her eyes filled with a strange mix of emotions that he didn’t know how to name. Finally, she sputtered out a few words, gesturing vaguely at the building behind her. “The service is over.”
He didn’t even look toward the church. “I didn’t come for the service.”
Brigid nodded back. “It was a nice service, but I learned more after it was over.” He watched her carefully, hoping for some sign that she knew why he was there, that she wanted him there. “I spoke to a friend of yours. Pastor Clement was kind enough to tell me what a fine man he thinks you are.”
His insides were in knots. He wanted to jump in with both feet, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. Didn’t want to make things any more difficult than it had already been. Still, his curiosity got the better of him. “And you?” He tried to search her eyes. “Did it match your opinion?”
He had meant the words to tease a bit, but he saw her draw back a little, her cheeks blanched a bit as well. He instantly regretted his question and struggled to find a way to take the words back and couldn’t manage it.
Quinn felt something brush his hand and looked down to see her hands in his. He wanted to shout and cheer, but he was having a hard time feeling his hands and his legs. He wondered if he was one step away from becoming a scarecrow in the church yard. If she kept holding his hands, he would happily shoo crows for the rest of his days.
“I didn’t,” she began to speak and he worried at the pause she left hanging in the air between them. “I didn’t need to hear his opinion to know that you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”
His heart swelled in his chest, but his gut was still twisting as if bracing for a punishing blow to his middle.
“And I spent most of yesterday deciding what to do when I leave Bower.”
There it was, the words he was hoping he wouldn’t hear. Quinn held onto her hands, pulling her an inch closer to him. He wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. “Did you make a decision?”
She met his gaze for a long moment and then she gave him an answer. “I don’t want to go, Quinn. I don’t want to leave.”
He opened his mouth and all his well thought out words fled, leaving him with the words from his heart. “Then don’t leave, Birdie. Stay here. Stay in Bower and make it your home. Marry me.”
There was a chorus of audible gasps from the church yard, but Quinn didn’t care who was listening. He hadn’t come all this way to care what others had to say. All that mattered was the woman standing before him, squeezing his fingers so tight he was sure they’d gone white in her grasp. He didn’t care. He loved how strong she was.
He could see that he’d stunned her so he didn’t leave his admission there. It wasn’t everything he had to say.
“From the moment I looked into your eyes and felt the strength of your will, I knew how special you were. Your heart is in your eyes, Birdie. When I look at you, I see you in my life, in my home. I thought I wanted to be alone when I made my home in the woods, but when I stood there, holding your ridiculous hat in my hands, I knew that what I wanted was to be with you.” He lifted their joined hands and pressed a gentle kiss to each of her hands in turn. “It’s an empty house without you there. Dandy nearly knocked me to the ground this morning, waiting for me to come to my senses, and the chickens.” He turned a little and Brigid followed his gaze. From his place on the top fence rung, Down lifted his head into the air and added in his own two-cents. The hens looked up from their scratching and answered in chorus like an old Greek play.
He felt Brigid shake with laughter and tugged on her hands to get her attention. “So, what do you say, Brigid Belham? Would you be my wife and keep my animals in line?”
She leaned against him, her eyes smiling into his. “Is that the only reason why you need me, Quinn? To get your chickens to behave?”
“No,” he shook his head and felt a peace settle over him as he leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, “I want to build a life with you, Brigid, my love. I want to make you happy and share your joy and comfort your sorrows and if we are so blessed, as many children as you would like to hold and love as much as I love you.” He swallowed and prayed that his words were enough for her to brave seeing Appleton Winslet from time to time. He hoped he was enough. “Will you have me?”
She drew back from him and he held his breath, prepared to wait for her answer.
Brigid didn’t make him wait long. With a rush of a sigh passing from her lips she smiled up at him. “Yes, Quinn. I will marry you.”
He could see a question in her eyes, but he believed he was a step ahead of his bride-to-be, at least this once. “Pastor Clement?” He turned his gaze to the man standing a few feet away beside his own lovely wife.
“Yes, Mr. Quinn?” His tone was tinged with humor.
“Would you marry us?” He forged on ahead. “Right now?”
He saw the shock on the collection of faces around him and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s taken me years to realize what it was I needed in my life. Now that I know who she is, I don’t want to be away from her any longer.”
Brigid’s becoming blush warmed his own skin, and he drew her against his side.
The Pastor leaned in and whispered a question into his wife’s ear. Gwen chuckled and gave him a long-suffering sigh born of deep affection. Clearing his throat, Pastor Clement looked at Quinn with a tentative expression.
“I’m sorry, Quinn.” Pastor Clement cleared his throat. “You know how grateful we are for your eggs. You’re more than generous to my wife and me, but while you’ve been a valuable member of the parish, I can’t allow this.”
Carolina and Miles Hampton rushed forward to stand beside the couple, lending them their support. “Jeffrey,” argued Carolina, “what are you talking about? I can’t believe you would deny them!”
It was Miles who tried to quiet his wife, earning him a dark look. “Dear, listen to the man.”
Pursing her lips into a tight line, Carolina stood silent and settled a pointed look at the pastor.
“As I was saying,” Pastor Clement addressed the ever-growing crowd, “I couldn’t possibly allow the chickens inside the church.” He looked at the legion of birds now inhabiting the church grounds with an uncomfortable eye. “They would have to remain outside during the ceremony.”
Brigid was the first to react, her hand squeezing Quinn’s with warm affection. “Then we’ll have the ceremony out here.” She couldn’t seem to look away from his studious gaze. “It doesn’t matter where it happens. Not to me.” She took his free hand in hers again and drew their linked hands together. She smiled as if she liked the way his hands held hers so tightly. Against his large, callused hands, she looked feminine and delicate. “I just want to be your wife.”
“Birdie,” he looked up, a warm look in his eyes, “whatever makes you happy, that’s what I want. I just want to get you home before dark.”
Brigid blushed and cast a glance at the Hamptons who were standing close enough to hear their soft words. “Oh?”
His gaze was a mix of emotions she couldn’t name. “It’s a waning moon, and I’m worried about you walking in the dark.”
She shook her head. “I can’t argue with you there. I’m sure you don’t want to have to carry me through the woods. Although instead of my heeled boots,” she admitted, “I’m still wearing the boots you gave me, so you wouldn’t have to worry about the burden.” Br
igid laughed and expected him to join her, but instead, his eyes focused intently on her face.
“You’ll never be a burden to me, Birdie.” They shared a warm smile at the sound of her nickname, but he made sure she knew one more truth. “I’d carry you anywhere.”
Brigid flushed from her cheeks to her temples remembering just how strong Quinn was, and how easily he swept her up in his arms the night they met. “And I’d go anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”
He tugged on her hand and leaned closer, until their lips were a scant few inches apart.
Someone cleared their throat, and Brigid saw Pastor Clement’s wife fight a smile. The quiet woman handed a book to her husband. When she turned in the other direction she saw Mrs. Hampton lift her hand to her face, wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Stepping forward, the Pastor gestured to the assembled group. “Any who wish to stay for the ceremony, step forward.”
Brigid was relieved to see that the Hamptons remained close. While some others moved closer to the fence, they didn't attempt to enter the church grounds. Perhaps it was a chance to witness the spectacle but not claim that they'd stood up for the couple who’d kept them back.
But it was more likely that the glossy-feathered rooster who patrolled the fence-line, his curved tail feathers swishing behind him and crooked beak pointed into the air, kept the curious onlookers at a respectful distance.
“Dearly Beloved,” the minister intoned, “we are gathered here today-” The words that he spoke were surely beautiful. Brigid knew they were sweet and solemn and full of promise for the future, but she hardly heard a single one.
The gentle sweep of Quinn’s finger over the back of her hand, the stern set of his features softened by the warm look in his shifting hazel eyes stole her concentration.
“I do.”
She blinked and stared at Quinn. “What?”
He smiled, and she saw a hint of his teeth. “I just told the Pastor and everyone else that I was going to have you as my bride.”
The words, said in his rough bass tones, made her shiver a little. “Oh, I think that's lovely.”
A soft laugh reached her ears from where the Hamptons were standing.
“And, now,” the Pastor cleared his throat, “Miss Belham?”
She turned her face toward him, but her eyes seemed to be fixed on Quinn. “Yes?”
The pastor raised the book in his hands and nodded when she gasped in reaction. “It's your turn. Miss Belham do you promise to-”
“Yes!” She blurted out the word and immediately felt her cheeks heat with a flush. “Oh, I am sorry, Pastor.”
“I'm not.” Quinn’s voice trembled with laughter. “I'm in a hurry to get my wife home. Does she need to hear the whole list again?”
The Pastor closed the book with a chuckle of his own. “I guess not. It's hardly a formal setting, I guess we can move things along.” Turning to address the assemblage, including the passel of chickens gathered in clumps about the yard, the Pastor tucked the Bible under his arm. “I pronounce you husband and wife.”
He started to move forward, his arm extended to shake Quinn’s hand, and was drawn up short by his wife who rose on the tips of the toes and whispered into her husband’s ear. The formerly unflappable pastor was now as sheepish as he had been composed. Nodding to his gentle wife he turned to face the couple whom he had just married and took a moment to compose his words.
“My wife has just reminded me that I’ve forgotten a bit of the ceremony.” Gesturing to Quinn, he tipped his chin down toward his chest. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Brigid felt her heart flutter in her chest, turning about behind the wall of her formidable corset, and then pounding against her ribs. Goodness. The thought of Quinn kissing her, let alone having him do it in the middle of the churchyard, in full view of passersby, it was enough to make her light-headed even without her corset squeezing the life from her.
He shifted, moving closer, but loosening his hold on her hands. She rocked back, set free from his gentle hold, but she was in no danger of falling. Quinn took hold of her waist, his strong hands anchoring her in place.
Air rushed from her lungs as he smiled broader than she’d ever seen before. He was close enough that no one else could see the open expression on his face or the hint of heat in his eyes.
“Mrs. Quinn?”
She felt her knees buckle, but kept on her feet thanks to the heady strength of her husband’s hands. “Yes, Mr. Quinn?”
“Kiss me so we can hurry up and get home.”
She wanted to ask him a multitude of questions. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, but she saw his expectant look and found herself drawn to him like ore to a lodestone. Brigid lifted her hands, setting them square in the center of his chest. One hand smoothed over his shirt, her fingers hooking the edge of his suspenders. When she gave it a tug, he followed her lead, leaning closer until she lifted her mouth toward his.
The tip of her nose bumped into his before she turned and met his lips in a kiss.
The tender touch was echoed by her husband, using his hands to pull her closer to him as he moved his lips against hers, causing the most delicious friction between them.
When Quinn leaned back a moment later, Brigid let out a soft sigh of protest. “Another, please.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple and adjusted his embrace to tuck her against his side. “When we get back to the cabin, Birdie. We’ve a-ways to go before dark.”
She heard the truth in his words, and felt the promise of his strong arm around her back. Lifting her face to look into his, she felt a swell of warmth and pride in her chest. “Yes, Quinn.”
His face betrayed him, his eyes narrowing on hers. “Are you planning to be so accommodating all the time?”
Shrugging, she brightened as the Hamptons moved toward them. “We’ll see,” she teased, “but don’t hold your breath.”
The Hamptons congratulated them both, and traded places with the pastor and his wife, celebrating the marriage with bright smiles and well wishes for their happiness.
It only took a few minutes for Quinn to shy away from the attention. “Thank you again, but if you’ll excuse us” he began, turning his head toward the churchyard gate, “we should be heading home.”
Mrs. Hampton clasped her hands together. “Home.” She gave Brigid a bright smile. “It must be so lovely to hear that, my dear.”
Nodding, Brigid flushed and found herself feeling so very gentle and feminine standing beside her husband. “I feel like I’ve a place where I finally belong.”
Mr. Hampton gathered his wife beside him. “I’m glad you’re staying. We knew you’d find a home here in Bower.”
“Well, not quite, but we’re close enough to town to visit from time to time.” Quinn cleared his throat, picking up Brigid’s hand in his and tugging her across the yard. “But today,” he gave his friends a look before giving the chickens a short whistle, ruffling their feathers, “I’ve a need to get my Birdie home to roost.”
Brigid’s laughter filled the air as their flock flapped and pecked their way home behind the happy couple.
Thank You for Reading!
Thank you and Mahalo for reading “Home to Roost” from the ‘Bower, Colorado’ Series
If you enjoyed this book, I hope that you will leave a review to let other readers know what it was that you liked about it.
I hope that you’ll venture to my author page and see what else might strike your fancy!
— Also, if you’re interested in the town of Bower, Colorado, I’m going to add maps of the town and other information as we go along.
I’ll for you there!
- Reina
About the Author
Love - Romance - Books
Aren't they all the same thing?
Oh, I sure hope so!
I've been reading romance books for what seems like forever. When I was a teen, the days that I wasn't in dance class after school I'd go to the mall to wait
for my mom to finish work for the day and my haunt of choice... the book store.
Whether it was Scottish Lairds, Medieval Knights, Regency Gents, Rough and Tumble Cowboys, or handsome modern Heroes, I loved them all! There was always another hero and heroine to follow through page after page of breathless love!
I really hope that my readers will enjoy some of the same thrills as discover characters to love between the pages of my books.
For More Information about Reina
www.reinatorres.net
[email protected]
Other Books by Reina Torres
Reina writes a variety of romance books from Sweet to Heat and back again…
Sweet Western Historical Romance –
Three Rivers Express Series –
Always, Ransom (Book 1)
He rode for the Pony Express through a score of dangers on the trail. Danger followed her to her doorstep. Would their love end before it even began?
Montana Sky – Wandering Hearts Series
Stay With Me –
In a world trying to bend their wills, these two lonely souls will find their strength together.
Her Gentle Heart –
A man who never asked for help, a woman who gave him what he needed, Her Gentle Heart.
Small Town Contemporary Romance with Heat –
Finding Home –
She wants to leave her past behind her. He wants to know everything about her. The truth won’t stay hidden forever.
Playing With Fire –
She swore off “true love.” He wants “Happily Ever After.” How could this end badly?
Healing Hearts –
Frenemies with benefits wasn’t enough for him. She couldn’t let herself lean on him. He was going to stand by her no matter what.
