Love of a Cowboy 1
Page 56
The next morning, her mother awoke her with a light breakfast of tea and toast served in bed. Mary Rose couldn’t believe the service she was getting from her mother, but understanding dawned when her father brought a familiar trunk into the room, leaving abruptly without saying a word.
It was the trunk she was never allowed to play dress up out of when she was a little girl, because it contained something very special to her mother—her wedding dress.
“Well,” her mother said matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips. “It’s not long until Reverend Parsons will be here. We need to get you ready.”
Mary Rose sighed. It seemed she was getting married, unless she wanted to make a terrible scene, and cost her parents a ton of money coming out here, and cause even more gossip about herself in town. She frowned at that thought in particular, not wanting to give Henrietta any more amusement or ammunition. It seemed her life had been leading up to this moment—especially lately, with Rafe’s help. Or was that meddling?
A bath tub appeared in her room as if by magic—but it was Rafe’s brother who carried it, saying awkwardly, “He thought you might want to have a bath before you get ready.” Mary Rose already liked Augustus. He was quieter than Rafe, and at least as big, but there seemed to be something sad about him, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
After a somewhat hurried bath, her mother reappeared and dressed her powdered and perfumed body. The slightly off-white dress was old-fashioned, but Mary Rose had always loved it, having seen it in her parents’ wedding portrait on the piano back home.
As her mother was fiddling with putting her hair up, weaving a circlet of daisies into it, Mary Rose stood in front of the tilted full-length mirror. “Mother?”
“Yes, dear?” she asked, her mouth full of pins as she stretched to reach the top of Mary Rose’s tower of blonde hair.
“How did you know that Daddy was the man you wanted to marry?”
Sarah Caldwell stopped what she was doing for a moment, as if she was considering the question quite seriously, then continued on with her work. “I just knew.”
“How soon did you know? Did you have other beaus?”
“Yes, I had other beaus. But your father was the finest among them, as far as I was concerned. And my parents liked him.”
“Did you like him?”
She was silent for a moment before replying. “Yes, I did. And I do, even though he sometimes drives me crazy.”
“Would you marry him again, if you had the choice?”
“Yes, I would.” The answer came without an ounce of hesitation. Sarah stood up and hugged her daughter. “Mostly because marrying him brought me you.”
The two women clung together for a long while, sobbing lightly in each other’s arms. “Thank you, Momma.”
“You’re welcome, dear.” Sarah stood back a little and fussed with Mary Rose’s hair, wanting it to be just right. She could hardly believe her little girl was getting married—finally.
The ceremony was short and sweet, but poignant. Rafe was dressed in a black tuxedo, and looked as if he wanted to bolt away from here with her on horseback, even though her mother had delighted in telling her that this was all of his doing. He had paid for them to come out to New Mexico to be with her on her wedding day. Most of the town was in attendance, too, and there was a barbeque afterwards on the side lawn, by the river under the sprawling trees.
A small band played, and there was dancing. Her parents danced, as well as his. They seemed to have become the best of friends, even in so short a time. Rafe pulled her into his arms and held her eyes through the whole slow number, holding her close and thanking her, seriously, for finally marrying him.
Mary Rose looked at the huge diamond solitaire and the gold wedding band on her finger. She could hardly believe it.
She was married to the Devil himself.
Epilogue
Nine months, three big fights, two robberies and innumerable trips over his lap—until she grew too big to do so—later, Mary Rose and Rafe Black were delivered of a bouncing baby boy, who was named after both of his grandfathers: Angel Albert Black.
After the birth, still holding the naked baby on his wife’s now flatter tummy, Rafe’s eyes filled with tears. Mary Rose was quickly slipping into sleep, which was entirely understandable after thirty-six hours of labor. Rafe had one hand on his small, wiggling son’s back, and one on Mary Rose’s cheek. Everything he held dearest in this world was right here within his grasp.
He guessed the Devil did get his due, eventually.
The End.
Carolyn Faulkner
The words “spanking” and “discipline” have always sent a shiver up Carolyn Faulkner’s spine.
She knows she’s not alone.
Writing started as a way to explore her feelings. Soon short stories flowed from her pen featuring reluctant heroes taking the leading lady in hand, but always for her own good.
Today Carolyn is the author of dozens of books. She writes from her home in Maine, where she lives with her husband and leading man.
You can read an interview with Carolyn here:
http://www.blushingbooks.com/blog/?p=175
You may check out her website while it’s under construction here:
http://www.carolynfaulkner.com
Don’t miss these exciting titles by Carolyn Faulkner and Blushing Books!
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After Hours: A Medical BDSM fantasy
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Skye’s Submission
The Sister and the Sinner
Dutch and the Cowboy
Under the Lash
The Rogue and the Rose
Submissive Bride
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Her Guardian Don
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