Marrying My Cowboy

by Diana Palmer

  “Well, where you’re going is over a hundred degrees in the summer and seventies in the winter. You’re going to sweat a lot, guy.”

  He smiled and enjoyed her hand moving across his chest. Maud was a toucher and he valued that highly. She always let him know that she loved him in so many small, but important ways. “I think we deserve a break,” he murmured, resting his cheek against her hair, the strands tickling him. “We spent many years of our lives pursuing our degrees, a foundation that will serve us for the rest of our lives. And we were lucky: We lived together for that time. That two-week honeymoon in Hawaii is going to be a godsend.”

  “Which is why,” Maud drawled, poking him in the chest with her index finger, “after that wonderful vacation, I’ll feel like I’m being abandoned. Everyone who marries dreams of settling down, having their partner, having children, and being with them all the time.”

  Sighing, he squeezed her shoulders. “I know. I’m going to use this first construction mission as a template for future ones. As I get to know the global construction industry, the players, and who are good at building structures, I can then turn around and hire those companies and their experienced people. But it’s going to take some time, Maud. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

  “I know,” she whispered, sliding her arm around his torso, squeezing him. “Don’t mind me, I’m just whining. A down day. I’ll bounce back by tomorrow morning.”

  Laughing, he said, “You’re allowed. I know my mom and dad love you dearly and they’ll see to it you’re not lonely. They love you like the daughter they never had. You know that, don’t you?”

  Nodding, she closed her eyes, content with his warm strength surrounding her. “I do know that. And my parents want to come out for visits at least four times a year, to keep tabs on me.” She chuckled. “I’m grateful they will fly out to be with me. I love them and I want to be a part of their lives, too.”

  “Well,” he said huskily, kissing her temple, “soon we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Steve Whitcomb.”

  She poked his chest. “Hold up, pardner. Feminism is in, patriarchy is out. I want my last name to be Campbell-Whitcomb on all our major and important documents.”

  “A done deal,” he said.

  “A woman’s place is NOT being barefoot and pregnant and in front of a stove, doing all the cooking. My mother showed me early on that she could run a household, have a kid and a career. That time has come.”

  “Your best friend, Molly Stewart, graduated with her master’s in architecture this year and she’s going to be your matron of honor. She should be coming here with Brad Truelove, my best friend, tomorrow. I can hardly wait to see them.”

  “Me too. I’m so glad Molly and Brad are going to Africa with you. She’s interested in ecological architecture, too.” Maud loved Molly. They both had very rich business parents and she’d gone to school with her in New York City from the first grade through the twelfth grade. And then, they’d both gotten into college. Molly was a no-nonsense Easterner with loads of practicality and visionary ideas to help people in low economic levels just like Steve. Her best friend had met another architecture student, Brad Truelove, and they’d eventually fallen in love and gotten married three years ago. And with Steve at the helm, they had created the concepts that he eventually won awards for. Now, they were a part of his company and they’d be going to Africa with him. “Are they ready to fly out with you?”

  “Yes, they’ve already got their tickets, their shots, and everything in order.”

  “I’m so glad because the three of you are best friends and you all love the same thing: architecture,” Maud congratulated.

  “I am lucky. We’ve worked well together in school,” he agreed. “Once we get to Africa, we all know what jobs we’re going to fill. They are eager to see it work and so am I.”

  She gave him a sly look. “I hope that Molly is getting the same salary any man would for the same position?”

  “Molly gets equal pay. I never believed women should be paid less.”

  “Good to hear.” She saw him wink down at her. He was a rare man in the patriarchy where males ruled the world and women were treated as second-class citizens. There was a streak of fairness in him that spoke volumes. He had never treated her as anything but his equal, proud of her accomplishments and supporting her own vision for her life. They were a two-career couple, an oddball to the woman marrying a man, getting pregnant, running the family, and staying at home. She couldn’t see that for herself or for the many other feminist women friends she had, Molly among them. They all wanted a career in a passion that they wanted to pursue. Marriage and children, if any, could come later. Finally, women were putting themselves first, not last, as her mother would often say. Maud was so glad her mother had led the way for women in the world of money, stocks, and bonds. There were many following her, opening up Wall Street firms so it wasn’t a hundred percent men working there.

  “Speaking of family,” he said, giving her a warm look, “are we still on track for what we’ve planned?”

  Maud nodded. “If you’re going to be gone for two years, I don’t see getting pregnant. I want you home, Steve. I want you there for the birth. I’ll be twenty-six by that time and I’ll have the ranch management pretty much learned by that time.”

  “It’s a good time to start a family,” he agreed.

  She bit her lower lip, frowning. “I know I’ve talked to you about this before. My mother had several miscarriages before she had me. My grandmother did, too. We’ve been a one-child family. I worry about that. What if I can’t carry a baby to full term? What then?”

  He slid his arm around her shoulders, hugging her. “Look, like we’ve said before, if you can’t have a child, then we’ll adopt. There’s plenty of kids who don’t have parents or a family. Are you still thinking the same thing?”

  Nodding, she sighed. “My period has been a mess all my life. My gynecologist has his concerns. I just don’t know, Steve. It eats at me. You know my dream to have three or four kids running around, being part of our lives. I’ve always wanted a large family. I was an only child and I hated it. I always wanted brothers and sisters, but never got them. I’d really like to break this awful genetic family trait and have those children.”

  “And I’ve always pined for brothers and sisters, too. We both come from a one-child family, which is sort of a rarity in our society today.”

  “That’s my only worry,” she said, and she lifted her lashes, holding his warm gaze. “Can I have kids?”

  “It’s two years away. You have other important things to do.” He kissed the top of her head. “And it doesn’t matter to me, Maud. I love you. I want to marry you. If we have kids, that’s fine. If we don’t? We’ll adopt. We’ll love them just as much, regardless. Hold that thought, huh?”

  She forced a small smile she didn’t feel but didn’t want to upset Steve with her greatest fear. She normally kept it deep within herself. “You’re right. . . .” He kissed her cheek and she could feel him trying to make her feel better. She had not confided in her mother about it, either, or to Lydia. Somehow Maud knew they would be very accepting of adopted children and love them just as much as she and Steve would.

  “Four days until we’re married,” he rasped, sliding his finger beneath her chin, lifting it slightly so he could fit his mouth across hers.

  “Mmmmm.” The word vibrated in her throat as she eagerly met and slid against his, the masculine warmth and worshipping of her lips making her focus only on him—and them.

  Lifting her hand, she slid it across his broad shoulder, fingers curling around his nape, relishing the sweet contact between them. At the same time, her lower body bloomed and the ache that told her how much she wanted him in every way began as it always did when he kissed her.

  As they slowly broke their kiss, breathing a little ragged, Maud smiled up at him. “It’s hell not being able to sleep with you every night. I’ll be glad being married will make it okay for us to share the s
ame bedroom.”

  Chuckling, he threaded his fingers through her hair. “We could meet out here after dark when everyone is gone for the day. Our favorite spot? Just you and me?”

  “I’d like that,” she replied, her voice smoky with desire. “We’ll steal out here after everyone goes to bed.”

  “Better believe that. I wonder if they know?”

  “If they do, no one is saying anything. We’ve never made anything of the fact that we were living together. Dad calls us hippies, and that’s okay with me.”

  “Well, his generation would never have done what we’re doing,” he agreed, smoothing the strands behind her shoulder. “I think my mom knows.”

  “I know my mother is well aware, too. I’m not sure about Dad.”

  “I think both women are street-smart and have known for a long, long time,” Steve said. “My guess is that neither father knows.”

  “Women know how to hold secrets.”

  He laughed. “That’s true. The look my mother gives me sometimes, sorta tells me she knows what’s going on.”

  “Is she judging us?”

  Steve shook his head. “No.”

  “My mother isn’t either. That’s such a relief.”

  “I think women are far more flexible and better at dealing with changes, large or small, than men. . . .”

  Maud snorted. “I’ll agree with that ninety-nine percent. You’re the one percent of men in the world who can change and are flexible. Just more reasons why I love you.”

  “I like being your role model,” he murmured, caressing her cheek, holding her fiery gaze. No mistake about it, Maud was a bra-burning feminist. And she didn’t brook any of what she called “Neanderthal” males giving her grief, either. No, she went toe to toe with them. He liked that his young wife-to-be was a warrior. Running a 150,000-acre ranch in some of the worst winters in the USA would take a warrior spirit and someone who wasn’t cowed and would remain undaunted by the challenges he knew she would have to battle. And he loved Maud fiercely. Steve couldn’t wait until the wedding date rolled around. It would be a new chapter, a wonderful one, in their lives together.

  Chapter Five

  “Are you ready?” Lydia asked Maud as she nervously smoothed the white tulle skirt one more time. Martha stood nearby, taking photos, enthusiastic and smiling. There was also a young woman photographer, Diana, taking the official wedding pictures. There was a male photographer, Terry, out front, taking photos of everyone coming into the church for the wedding.

  Maud nodded. “Yes. I just want to get started.” Outside the room, she could hear the organist playing soft, classical music for the overflowing crowd. Peeking out of the door, she saw the entire church was filled with people, and at least fifty were standing around the sides and clustered in the back.

  “I think half the valley came,” Lydia said, glowing with pride. “I’m not at all surprised.”

  “Steve said he thought there would be standing room only because there’s not that many people in the valley and everyone knows everyone else,” Maud said.

  “He’s right,” Lydia confirmed, touching the freshly picked Mule’s-ears daisies that had been chosen just outside the church’s door by Molly, her matron of honor. The June daisies were everywhere, making the valley a golden carpet for everyone to appreciate. Many of the men gave up their pew seats for older men and women who were coming in late, so they could sit down and let their joints take a rest. That is what Maud loved about Westerners: they were so thoughtful toward children and the elderly, without fail. Up front, she saw her family in the front row of one section, and Steve’s family across the aisle, in the other. She didn’t have many relatives who were still alive, but Steve’s side was filled with a lot of relatives who had traveled from near and far to see him married off. Not to mention old friends he grew up with.

  This was a Unity church and the Reverend Sheila Parsons, forty-five years old, her bright red hair in a French twist, blue eyes sparkling, stood at the doors, welcoming everyone. It was very, very rare to have a woman in the clergy at all, no matter the denomination, but Sheila’s father, Andy Parsons, had been the leader of the flock until he suddenly died two years ago of a heart attack. The parishioners knew Sheila well and she had graduated from a Unity college and was working as an assistant pastor to her father. When Andy died, it was a seamless transition to ask her to lead the church. No one seemed to care if Sheila was a woman. Still, in Maud’s eyes, she saw the woman as a role model, sending the signal to society that within religion, there could be women leaders, as well. God loved everyone. She was so happy that a woman would preside over their marriage vows!

  Maud, over the last four years of their academic chase, looked forward to coming out in the summer to the ranch and helping Sheila run their church charity, Harvest Food Bank. It was a soup kitchen, plus a food bank, and she often was in the back, cooking up meals for those who had so little. This church was dedicated to its members as well as anyone else, without fail, and there was a wonderful sense of happiness in the air that she could literally absorb.

  Her mother was dressed in a specially designed gold silk Chanel suit. Lydia had made a silk suit of pale green with gold trim—both business-type suits. The mothers had agreed they didn’t want bell sleeves, empire waistlines, or puffed sleeves, which were the rage right now. Martha had given Lydia a gift of a bolt of the pale green silk that she’d bought in China months earlier on another visit. Maud thought it was a wonderful gift. And so did Lydia, who adored the sleek, expensive fabric.

  Molly Truelove slipped through the room’s other door. She was wearing an apple-green gown with an empire waistline that fell to her ankles with low-heeled shoes of the same color. There was a large, flat bow across her blond hair.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” Molly asked, coming up to her, assessing her keenly.

  “Wishing it was starting. This waiting is killing me.”

  Martha chuckled and so did Lydia, giving each other a wise look.

  Patting her shoulder, Molly said, “I just talked with Brad. He’s over in the groom’s room. Steve is pacing like a wild animal caught in a cage. He’s mumbling the same words!”

  Laughing with her, Maud said, “Poor guy. How many people are here? The place is packed!”

  “Rev Sheila said everyone has arrived now and there’s close to two hundred people. They’re playing musical chairs with the elders, and a lot of the guys are giving up their pew seats so that others have a place to sit. Rev Sheila is having about thirty chairs walked over from the annex to here, so everyone is going to have a seat. A lot of the guys are pitching in to help.”

  “All heroes,” Maud said, pleased. “Where are our cascade bouquets of Mule’s-ears?”

  “Oh, I have everyone’s bouquets in Sheila’s fridge in the basement. I’ll bring them out just before we have to walk down the aisle. I’ve been spraying them with water every once in a while, so they stay perky and fresh.”

  “Ever the engineer,” Maud teased her architect friend. She saw Molly’s eyes light up with laughter.

  “I’ll tell you, every wedding needs an engineer. There’s so many moving parts. Poor little Sherrie Muir just threw up. The poor thing, only seven years old and she’s our flower girl.”

  “Oh no, the poor tyke,” Maud said, concerned. “A cold? Flu?”

  Molly shook her head. “No, nerves, excitement, and too much of both. She’s okay now. Her mom, Pattie Muir, got a 7 Up from down in the basement and her daughter took a few sips of it, and it calmed her stomach down. Thank goodness she wasn’t wearing her dress for the wedding yet!”

  “That was close,” Maud agreed, “but I’m more concerned for her. Maybe we should not let her throw daisy and rose petals down the aisle? What do you think? I want the poor little girl to enjoy this, not be throwing up because she’s overly excited.”

  “She’s okay now. But I’ll be checking back with them later. Her brother, Todd, who is eight, is doing fine. He’s cool, calm, and coll
ected.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “He’s playing around with the guys. He and his father, Dick, are with Steve and his friends. It’s a party in there because they have a neon orange little plastic football that they’re throwing back and forth. Everyone’s having fun!”

  Rolling her eyes, Maud muttered, “Unbelievable.”

  Tittering, Molly nodded. “You know Steve is a big kid, Maud. He was always playing jokes on all of us.”

  “Yes, and you’re a glutton for punishment, going to work with him in Africa!” she teased back.

  Molly gave her a smile and buffed her green fingernails against her dress, shining them up. “Hey, I’m really excited about it, Maud. Brad, Steve, and I have always worked well together. We’ll be a good team over there in Africa to help the poor. It’s in keeping with the Peace Corps vision that President Kennedy created in the 1960s. We feel like them! Doing something good for humanity.”

  “It’s true, you are and I’m proud of all three of you. Me? I’m looking forward to working with Lydia and Sam and learning the ranch business.”

  “They’ll be great teachers. I want to kick around the world with Brad. We’re young and we don’t want to start a family until we’re around thirty. Everyone thinks we’re crazy because women get married at eighteen and by the time they’re our age? They have four kids!”

  “Not us, either,” Maud said. “We’re putting off our family for two years while Steve gets the template for his economical home designs in place.”

  “Yes, I think it will take two years, for sure. But once we get the template nailed down, and pardon the pun, we can then replicate these homes very quickly anywhere they’re needed. Steve has tasked me with going to major lumber companies around the world and getting bids from them for producing the various hardwoods, the plyboard, and other items necessary to build a house. And then I’ll put it in a package, contracts signed, paid for, and then these folks who don’t have homes will have one.”