by Vivi Holt
Hazel had already found and met with her oncologist. Dr. Simpson seemed very capable when Emily sought her out at the hospital and shared her concerns over her friend’s wellbeing. The doctor had even offered to have coffee with her to talk through the case. Their conversation had given Emily a lot of confidence in the treatment plan Dr. Simpson was recommending for Hazel. Since then, Hazel had started radiation therapy, but it was still too early to tell how successful it might be.
Emily trudged toward her car, yawning. After seeing twenty patients and researching for three hours straight, she was tired. Her stomach growled – she’d forgotten to eat dinner and had only a simple salad at her desk for lunch. She climbed into the car and turned the key in the ignition. The air-conditioning took a while to kick in – it blasted hot air directly in her face, making her cringe and blink dry eyes.
In her purse, her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it free and swiped the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart. You coming over tonight?”
Eamon’s voice sent a wave of warmth through her. She smiled. “I’m on my way. I’m starving and so tired.”
“Why don’t you just spend the night, then? The guest bedroom’s all made up. I’ve said you can use it anytime you like.”
She yawned again. Perhaps she should stay at the ranch, but she didn’t want to be an inconvenience. There were already so many people living there and she did enjoy the peace and quiet of her apartment. But she couldn’t ignore the thud of her heart at the thought of seeing Eamon. “Okay, I’ll drop by my place first to pick up a few things. See you in a bit.”
Emily set the phone on the passenger seat and shifted into reverse to back out of her space. It felt good to have someone in her life, someone who knew when she got off work and was waiting to spend time with her. She smiled and drove toward her apartment.
When she arrived home, she hurried upstairs to find Eamon outside her door, a bouquet of red roses in his hands, his cowboy hat tipped low over blue eyes. Her heart leaped. Every time she saw him it struck her again just how handsome he was. She grinned and ran into his arms, jumping up to wrap her legs around him. She kissed him hard on the mouth and linked her hands behind his head.
He chuckled against her mouth as she slid to the ground, landing softly on her feet. “I’m glad to see you too.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to wipe the grin from her face.
“You sounded so tired, I didn’t want you driving out to the ranch on your own.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Really? Has anyone ever told you that you’re quite the catch?”
His cheeks reddened and he frowned. “Once or twice.”
“Well, you are. Thank you – I’m exhausted.”
After she grabbed a few things and packed them into an overnight bag, they climbed into Eamon’s pickup and drove out to the ranch. The sky was clouded over and Emily heard a crack of thunder in the distance. Soon, forks of lightning lit up the western horizon. “Looks like it’s headed this way,” said Eamon, glancing out through his side window.
She nodded and watched the sky silently. She didn’t particularly like storms – she knew it was childish to be afraid, but she still jumped every time thunder cracked nearby. By the time they pulled into the long drive at the Cotton Tree, her head lolled against the side door – she could barely keep her eyes open. Eamon leaped out to open the gate, and when they reached the house he carried her bag inside. She followed, shaking her head to try and clear the sleep from her thoughts.
Inside the house, Hazel, Dalton and Parker were lounging in the den listening to music and talking. She heard their laughter before she saw them, and it brought a smile to her face.
“Emily!” cried Parker, standing up to welcome her.
“Em, good to see you.” Hazel smiled, waving a spoon. A bowl of ice cream rested in her hands, and she sat nestled in Dalton’s lap.
“Hi, everyone.”
“We were just about to go for a walk – care to join us?” asked Parker.
Emily yawned, then nodded. “Sure thing.”
Eamon laughed. “I don’t know – she might fall asleep and just keel over on us.”
Hazel stood and headed for the kitchen. Emily followed her, wrapping one arm around her friend’s waist. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. A bit sick earlier, but I’m okay now. And Dalton’s waiting on me hand and foot, so it’s not too bad.” She giggled.
“You’re doing great.”
Hazel put her half-finished bowl in the freezer. “Thanks. I really appreciate all your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Em. Have I told you lately how glad I am that you moved down here?” Her eyes gleamed with tears.
Emily embraced her. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
* * *
Outside, the storm drew closer. They could hear the rumble of thunder and see the lightning snaking in a long curve toward them. Emily huddled beneath Eamon’s arm, pressing close against him as they walked side-by-side, following in Dalton and Hazel’s footsteps. The newlyweds held hands and talked between themselves in hushed tones. Parker hung back, wrestling with Harley over a piece of rope the dog was particularly fond of. Even Lulu and the kittens stalked them from a distance. One big happy family.
Emily glanced over her shoulder and grinned at the sight of the black cat sneaking behind a shrub in the darkness, only the light from the porch behind her giving her location away. She giggled.
Eamon glanced at her. “What?”
“Nothing. Just laughing at Lulu hiding back there.”
Eamon chuckled. “Yeah, she does that. Otherwise Harley rolls her. He thinks it’s a great game, but she’s not convinced.” He stopped and turned to face her, resting both hands on her arms and staring into her face. It was so dark, she could only see an outline of his smile. “Are you happy?”
She breathed in deeply. “Oh yes.”
“Because you know, I’d understand if you weren’t. I mean, you’ve made a lot of changes in your life recently, and you missed out on your dream job. I know working in Tifton doesn’t really make up for that. So I guess … I just wanted to ask.” He ran a hand through his hair.
She put her arms around his waist and rested her chin against his chest, looking up at him. “I am happy. Actually, I love my job – it’s interesting and challenging, and I really enjoy working with patients all day. I enjoy diagnosing, and I still get to do surgery at the hospital a few days a week as well. I have a pretty great boyfriend too, so there’s that.”
He sighed. “I’m glad. I didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out on something, or settling for less than you deserved.”
“I don’t feel that way at all. It’s strange, but I really couldn’t ask for more. Who knows what the future holds, but for now I’m happy with what I have.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
When she pulled away, he spoke again. “The reason I ask is … I want to spend my whole life with you. I know it’s soon and you can take all the time you need to think it through, but I know what I want – and it’s you.” He dropped to one knee and took her hand. “ Emily Zhu, I love you with all my heart and can’t imagine spending another day without you. Will you marry me?”
She sucked in a quick gasp and her heart thudded, as her free hand flew to cover her mouth. It was all so sudden – she hadn’t even considered marriage yet. But now that he’d opened his heart to her, she knew what her answer would be. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you too.”
He jumped up with a shout and caught her in his arms, kissing her in a way that made her heart pound in her chest.
“What’s going on?” called Dalton, concern in his voice.
“She said yes!” Eamon cried.
Dalton and Hazel hurried back to them, and while Dalton shook Eamon’s hand, Hazel threw her arms around Emily with a sob of delight. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you both!” Parker soon joined them and congratulated the ne
wly engaged couple.
Emily held Eamon’s hand through it all, and her throat tightened with each passing moment. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed for the better in just a few short weeks. And she couldn’t ask for anything more. Her heart felt as though it might burst with happiness.
When the rest of the group finally headed back to the house, Emily wrapped her arms around Eamon and gazed up into his face. A fat rain drop landed on her forehead, followed by another on her cheek. She blinked and Eamon chuckled. A loud crack resounded close by, making her jump, but he held her closer and leaned forward to kiss her softly. His lips explored hers, and she forgot everything in his arms. Her body trembled at his touch and her legs felt weak as the rain fell harder, soaking her upturned face.
“So, Doc, do you think you could stand living in the country, married to a cowboy?” Eamon shouted over the storm.
“It’s like a dream came true that I never knew I wanted.” Emily kissed him again, melting into his embrace as rivulets of rain ran down their faces, soaking their clothes and drowning out every other sight and sound, leaving them all alone in each other’s arms.
THE END
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Read on for an excerpt from Vivi Holt’s bestselling historical romance, Of Peaks and Prairies (Paradise Valley, Book 1).
Exerpt from Of Peaks & Prairies
(Paradise Valley, Book 1)
Chapter One
Genevieve Waters-Ewing walked from the church with her hand resting lightly on Quincey Ewing’s raised arm. He’d shaved for the first time in months, and she glanced with distaste at a scratch on his cheek where the blade had nicked his weathered skin. Her whole body trembled and she fought hard to push down the sobs that threatened to escape her aching throat at any moment. He turned to face her with a grin, his ten-gallon hat perched unevenly on his square head.
The minister who’d married them was so old and frail and his hearing so bad, each time she shook her head and shouted “no” during their vows, he simply nodded with a toothless grin and continued on with the ceremony. When she tried to run, Quincey held her close and pinched her arm. In the end she stood her ground, confident that the law would never uphold such a marriage – until, that is, her new husband forged her signature on the marriage certificate. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She glared at him as her stepfather came up alongside her. “Congratulations, Genny – yer a married woman now! Isn’t that what ya always wanted?” He chuckled, and she caught him winking behind her back at his childhood friend – the man who’d just been pronounced her husband.
“Well, at least it’ll get ya out from under my feet,” he continued. “I can’t be payin’ for yer upkeep forever. Your Ma done died on me, leavin’ me with a rug-rat I never wanted. Now it’s time for ya to find yer own place in life. Can’t say as I’ll miss ya much, ‘part from the cookin’ ‘n sech of course, but I’ll find a missus to do that soon enough with ya out of the house. ‘Course, yer not goin’ far – just across the way. I’m sure ya could find it in yer heart to help me out a time or two, after all I’ve done fer ya.”
They’d stepped out into the bright Texas morning, and Genevieve squinted against the sunlight that streamed down through a faint fuzz of thin clouds above. She cast her gaze around – they were on the outskirts of Fort Worth, Texas, and she could see the plains stretched out before them. The town pushed toward the openness, threatening to civilize its bluffs, rises and hollows. Chaparral tufts littered the landscape, sheltering hare and various rodents and giving the plains an unkempt look.
Genevieve smoothed the skirts of her burgundy-plaid dress. It was the nicest dress she owned, but even so it was well worn and pulled tightly across her chest and hips where she’d grown in recent years. A long line of small buttons ran up the front of the bodice. The sleeves no longer reached her wrists even when she tugged at them, and the stays pinched her tiny waist. She sighed. “If Ma knew what you had planned for me, Fred, she’d roll over in her grave.” She caught a sob and pushed it back down with a grimace.
He laughed again, this time with a slap on his thigh. When the sound faded, he leveled his face close to hers. She could smell stale tobacco and tequila as his bloodshot eyes trained on hers and held her gaze. “Ya watch yer manners there, Missy. Ya got a husband now, and he may not put up with yer sass the way I done.”
She felt a squeeze on her arm and turned to face her new husband with a gasp. “What was that for?”
“Ya speak to my friend here with some respect. He’s yer elder and I won’t have none of yer lip, ya hear? Yer my wife now and you’ll heed what I say, got it?” Quincey took off his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Dagnabit, it’s hot today. What say we grab us a drink to celebrate this fine occasion?” he asked Fred, who nodded that he heartily concurred with the plan.
Genevieve rubbed her arm where his thin fingers had pinched, and furrowed her brow. She’d never imagined that her life could have taken a turn for the worse after everything that had already happened to her. When her father died in a mining accident, Ma married the next man who asked her, out of fear that they’d end up in the poorhouse or dead from hunger or cold in the street. Unfortunately, that man had been Fred Bilton, and a more cold-hearted man would have been hard to find. Or so she thought, until she met his friend and their neighbor, Quincey Ewing.
The two men eyed Genevieve with a frown. “What?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
“Just wonderin’ what on Earth to do with ya while yer Uncle Fred and me head on down to the saloon for a bit.” Quincey placed his hat back on his head and grabbed her wrist, dragging her along behind him.
“Stop it, you’re hurting me,” she cried, stumbling after him.
“Keep up, then, and it’ll hurt less.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Ya can sit outside the saloon where I can keep my eye on ya. I got a feelin’ yer in a feisty mood.” He stopped and pulled her close to his chest, both hands wrapped tightly around her tiny wrists. “And just so ya know – I don’t take kindly to feisty. Ya give me trouble, I give ya trouble, you got me?” He narrowed his eyes at the sight of her pale face, and the wiry gray hairs that curled up from the tops of his eyebrows lifted and fell as he regarded her. “What’s wrong with ya, girl? Did ya hear what I said?”
Genevieve nodded, and he released one of her wrists, pulling her behind him down the busy street once again. Tears threatened, but she held them in. She didn’t want him to see her cry, to know that he’d been able to hurt her. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Fred plodded along behind the two of them, huffing and puffing in his attempt to keep up with Quincey’s clipped pace.
They drew to a halt in front of a rusted sign that swung from a thin paling nailed in front of a two-way door. The sign read Tandy’s, and Fred licked his lips. “Well, you finally got yer way there, Quincey – I gave you my girl to marry. I figure this means the drinks are on you today, right?”
Quincey nodded and scowled. With one last glance at Genevieve, he pointed to a nearby bench and watched as she made her way over to sit. “Ya‘n’I will be doin’ our own celebratin’ later tonight,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes.
Genevieve shivered and felt the bile rise in her throat at the thought of what lay in store for her later that evening. Quincey snickered and pushed open the saloon doors, and the two men hurried inside, anxious to begin drinking.
As soon as they disappeared, Genevieve’s heart raced until it felt as though it would burst from her chest. She pulled and tugged at her corset, but it was no use. Standing quickly to her feet, she drew in deep gasps of air as circles and pricks of light danced and swayed before her eyes.
“Are you all right there, Miss?” asked a cowboy as he gently cupped her arm. His eyes were kindly above a bushy beard.
“Yes, I’m fine
, thank you,” she replied, steadying herself in his grasp.
“Why don’t you sit right here? There you go.” He helped her back onto the bench, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on slowing her breathing. The next time she opened them, it was to see the cowboy dip his brown Stetson at her with a smile and meander off down the street.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was back on her feet and following him. She did it quietly so he wouldn’t notice, and she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need to follow him, but it was as though she were following an instinct she couldn’t fight. I can’t stay there. I can’t go through with it. Quincey is horrible and mean and old and I despise him. I can’t be married to him. Just thinking about going home with him to that ramshackle old place he calls a house makes my stomach churn.
The cowboy sauntered down the street. He stepped from the covered sidewalk onto the dusty road with a hop and ducked between wagons and buggies to cross it. The road they were following was the main thoroughfare for the dusty Texas town, edged on both sides by tall false storefronts. Covered boardwalks joined them to keep boots and slippers up out of the dust and manure that coated the potholed road with a layer of grime.
I can’t do it. I can’t do it. Genevieve’s mind was blank apart from a single thought that repeated itself over and over in time with the slap of her feet on the road. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.
She knew, if she dared think about it, that Quincey would come after her. As soon as he saw she’d left her place outside Tandy’s, he’d come looking and he wouldn’t stop until he found where she was. Then she’d pay. She’d seen the way he’d collected a toll from his workers, the animals on his farm and the sporting women who crept from his bed in the early hours of the morning. She’d seen it all from her home on the opposite side of the lane from his shanty. She knew how he treated anyone who had the misfortune to be included in his life, and she knew what she’d have to bear when he caught up with her.
