by Caroline Lee
Lucas didn’t seem bothered by her ire though. Instead, he chuckled. “Yeah, I see that now. I’m real sorry, honey.” He smiled that lazy grin of his, and Shannon felt her stomach flip again. “Any woman who is willing to kill a man to protect me, well, she’s not the kind of woman I need to worry about worrying. From now on, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Really?” Her brows went up. “Everything? Even though I lied to you? That must’ve hurt, for me to show up and you to realize…”
How flawed I am. She couldn’t say it.
“Realize what, exactly? You didn’t lie about how good a cook you are. You didn’t lie about your sister—I don’t mind having her around, by the way—or about being a pretty good housekeeper. I mean, you can’t make soap, but we can keep buying that in town. And you didn’t lie about wanting kids”—his fingers trailed down her side, and she shivered—“which has been a definite bonus for me. So what is it you think you lied about?”
Oh God, he was going to make her say it.
“I lied about…” Shannon swallowed and focused on her hands twined in her lap. “I lied about how I look.”
“No you didn’t.” His denial was immediate. “I memorized your letters, Shannon. Blonde hair, blue eyes. That’s all you said.” He gave the swing a little push. “Now, if you’d said that you were pretty, I would’ve called you a liar.”
Her breath caught on a little sob his casual words surprised out of her.
“See, honey, you’re not just pretty. You’re beautiful. You’re graceful. You’re the kind of woman I love waking up next to every day.”
His words confused her enough to peek up at him to see his smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Tell me about this lie of yours, Shannon.”
“My face. It’s not beautiful,” she confessed. Luckily, he was sitting on her right, so she could turn away. Turn so he couldn’t see the birthmark on her left cheek.
“Not—?” Lucas pulled his arm from around her shoulders, and losing that connection almost broke her.
She could feel his gaze on her, hear the confusion in his question. But she couldn’t bring herself to point out her flaw.
“Shannon, I don’t…” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me!”
Oh God. He was going to make her say it. She swallowed, and prayed that her voice didn’t sound as pitiful as she suspected.
“I’m not beautiful, and that’s okay. It’s the reason I didn’t marry in Texas. I wanted so badly to get married and have a baby, someone who would love me no matter what I looked like.” In her hurry to get her confession out, the words began to trip over one another. “I thought being a mail-order bride would solve that problem; I could marry a man without him seeing me first. But if I’d been honest—honest to you, fair to you I mean—I would’ve written the truth. I wouldn’t have lied—”
“Shannon.” His commanding voice cut her off, and he covered her hands—still twisted together on her lap—with his good one. “What are you talking about?”
“My face.” Why didn’t he understand? “I should’ve been honest about—”
“Your face? What about your face?”
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then turned to face him completely. “My birthmark,” she whispered.
For a million heartbeats, neither of them moved. Shannon held her breath, waiting for him to speak, waiting for the faintest sound to tell her what he was thinking. When it didn’t come, and she’d aged a full year—or so it seemed—she risked a peek through her lashes.
He was smiling. At her.
Surprised, Shannon opened both of her eyes, and his smile grew. His good hand came up and touched her cheek to trace the ugly birthmark, but she forced herself not to flinch.
“How could you possibly think this makes you not beautiful?” It wasn’t his words so much as his incredulous tone which told her he was telling the truth. “Your beauty isn’t just your skin, honey. It’s the way your eyes sparkle when you see me in the morning, and the way you smile—you’ve got this dimple right here—when you think I’m being silly.”
He cupped her cheek and drew her face towards his. “It’s the way you laugh with me, and the way your eyebrows do this little dippy thing“—he paused to kiss the spot between her eyes—“when you’re irritated. You’re beautiful because of all of those things put together.”
Then he kissed her, and Shannon felt that same heat—the same spark she’d felt when he’d touched her the very first time—spread through her body. She’d missed him these last few days and reveled in the realization he hadn’t been avoiding her at all. Unabashedly, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
And when they both emerged for air, a lifetime later, she was smiling.
“Yeah, honey,” Lucas drawled, “like that.”
And then he kissed her birthmark.
Shannon shuddered at the feel of his lips against her skin, kissing the part of her she’d been so ashamed of for so long. The part that, despite all of her fears, he really didn’t seem to mind.
“You don’t mind people will stare at your wife?”
“Mmmm.” He was kissing her earlobe now. “They’d be fools not to stare.”
“I mean in pity.” She was trying to focus, but his lips made it difficult. “My whole life, people have stared at me in pity. That’s why I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…”
Lucas straightened, but not so far her arms would fall away from his shoulders. “If a person can’t see past one little birthmark to see the beauty of your smile or eyes or heart, then they are fools. You are beautiful, Shannon Montgomery Ryan, and if it takes the rest of our lives to prove it to you, well…” He smiled that smile she loved so much. “Then I’ll look forward to the challenge.”
And just like that, everything was right and good in her world.
Shannon couldn’t help the noise she made—something between a whimper and a squeal—when she tightened her hold on him and pressed herself against his chest. “That’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me, husband!”
“Oh yeah?” Lucas shifted, so his good arm was around her once more. “How about this? I love you, wife. I’m going to love you for all of our days.”
She kissed his jaw. “And I love you, Lucas. I’ve never known a man like you, so caring and optimistic. Thank you for showing me the blessings in life.
“Blessings? Like what?”
She smiled. “Like the baby we created together. You’re going to be the most wonderful father.”
When he stiffened, Shannon immediately knew why, and she unlaced one hand to press her palm against his cheek. “You really are, Lucas. You’re going to be a wonderful father, no matter what role Verrick plays in our lives. Your mother’s teachings will ensure you won’t turn out like Thomas Ryan, and your own sense of honor has done the rest. You’re going to be a wonderful Daddy.”
If she hadn’t been looking directly into those beautiful golden-brown eyes, she would’ve missed the tears gathered in them.
“You really think so?”
She kissed him lightly. “I know so. You already love this baby more than anything else, so how could I be wrong?”
He stood up so suddenly she squealed in surprise when she was yanked up too. “You’re wrong, Mrs. Ryan.” Smiling down at her in the dusk, he looked far too handsome for his own good. “I love you more than anything else, and I mean to start proving it to you right now.”
Knowing what he had in mind, Shannon beamed. “I might take some convincing, husband, but I look forward to your efforts.” She was careful not to jostle his arm when she pressed against him. “I love you, Lucas.”
“And I love you, wife.”
And as he lowered his lips to hers for another gentle, warm kiss, Shannon knew the truth. They each had their own troubles—she’d never be conventionally beautiful, and he would have to learn to forgive his mother—but they also had each
other. And truly, in this world, that’s all that mattered.
Loving one another.
Epilogue
“So then the sailor says; ‘That’s not an oar, that’s me sister!’ “ Cora deadpanned as she lifted a wet plate from the wash basin.
Even expecting the bawdy punchline, Lucas burst into surprised laughter as he took the plate and began drying.
“Have you been trading jokes with Lefty?” His chuckles subsided as he put the plate in the cabinet. “I swear that sounds like something he would say.”
“I never give away my sources,” his sister-in-law said with a wink. She turned back to the dishes, but threw her words over her shoulder towards him. “But you have some explaining to do, mister.”
“Me?” What had he done wrong?
Cora’s chin jerked towards the table. “Shannon isn’t laughing, which means she didn’t get it, which means you haven’t done a good enough job teaching her how to be naughty.”
From behind them, at the kitchen table, his wife snorted tiredly. “I understood the joke, Cora, I just didn’t think it was worth laughing at. Some of us have standards, you know.”
Lucas leaned around Cora, even as he dried another plate, to smile at Shannon. “And some of us love you for your standards.”
“Some of us were hoping our sister would start making bawdy jokes too!”
“I’m not bawdy,” quipped Shannon. “I’m pregnant.”
Cora burst into laughter and Lucas joined. Even Shannon, looked utterly exhausted, chuckled. The last few weeks had been rough on her, but Doc Vickers in town insisted it was normal to be so tired in the early months of a pregnancy and assured Shannon she’d have more energy by the end of summer.
For her sake, Lucas hoped so. Still, he had to admit he found joy in heading upstairs right after dinner and holding her until she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d fall asleep too, and sometimes he’d get up and go back downstairs to sit at his mother’s small desk to work. But either way, it was nice to hold her as she slipped into dreamland.
On the nights he went back downstairs to the kitchen, he’d occasionally run into Cora, coming in from a twilight walk around the ranch. He worried about her, especially with no sign of what happened to Baker, but she assured him she was safe. She also flat-out refused to tell him what she was doing, saying only “an artist needs inspiration,” so he quit bugging her about it.
Now, he grinned fondly at his wife. “Dinner was delicious, honey.” Still holding the damp dish towel, he slid into the chair next to her and threw one arm across its back. “I wish you wouldn’t work so hard, but it was good.”
Her smile was as lovely as always. “I knew you loved my fried chicken. I wanted to make your birthday special.”
“How could it not be?” He tugged her shoulder closer until her head tilted towards him, and he placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “I have the best present a man could ask for.”
From across the kitchen, Cora interrupted. “A sister-in-law with impeccable comedic timing?”
Lucas didn’t tear his gaze away from Shannon’s beautiful blue eyes when he called out, “Not even close.” He lowered his voice when he said to his wife, “I have a wife who loves me despite my faults and a baby on the way.”
Shannon’s small hand came up to cup his cheek. “I do love you, Lucas. And no matter how annoying she is, Cora loves you too.”
He smiled. “Then I’m a lucky man to be surrounded by my family.”
“Well, since you two are just going to keep ignoring me, I’ll eat this birthday cake by myself.” Cora moved to the other side of the table and carefully set down a platter with the most beautiful lemon cake on it.
Lucas stared at the cake for a long moment, before glancing back at Shannon. “You did that?” His gaze was drawn inexorably to the dessert. “You made that for me?”
“Happy birthday, husband.”
He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pretty cake!” He’d always had a soft spot for sweets, but his mother hadn’t been a baker. “In fact, I think it might be my first ever birthday cake.”
“Then I’m glad I could make it for you.”
“And I’m glad I could help by standing around and watch— Oh!” Cora’s quip was cut off by a gasp.
When Lucas managed to tear his gaze away from the delectable-looking cake, he saw his sister-in-law staring at the doorway. Not sure what to expect, Lucas tightened his hold on Shannon’s shoulder and turned in his chair.
And slowly rose to his feet when he saw Verrick standing there in the doorway looking, for the first time Lucas could remember…hesitant. Unsure.
The other man’s golden gaze locked on Cora’s, but after a moment, his attention shifted back to Lucas. He nodded once, still looking as if he wasn’t quite certain of his welcome.
Lucas wasn’t sure what to say. He’d invited Verrick to dinner a few weeks ago, and the older man had been surprised, judging from his expression. He’d hesitated, then shaken his head in almost an apology, which made Lucas wonder what was keeping Verrick away. Did he want to spend time with them? Was something holding him apart?
That had been during the same confrontation when Lucas had asked about his mother. He hadn’t had the guts to come right out and ask Verrick how he’d managed to father him, but the older man had understood.
After a long silence, during which Verrick seemed to struggle to find words, he’d finally said: “I have never forced myself on a woman.”
And that was that.
Verrick hadn’t seemed interested in saying more, and Lucas had been supremely uncomfortable with the discussion, so they’d both dropped it. Maybe one day he’d find answers from this man who was his father, but maybe not. Maybe there were secrets Verrick was keeping for a reason, secrets that could change Lucas’s memory of his mother. He wasn’t sure, but he’d realized something surprising; He trusted Verrick. He trusted the man to protect him and his family, and he trusted that on some level, Verrick cared for him.
And on some level, he cared for the older man too.
He was the first to break the silence. “Would you like some cake?”
Verrick’s eerie golden eyes flicked to the table and to Cora once more, and he seemed to consider it. Finally, he nodded again. “I am partial to sweets.”
“My mother certainly wasn’t.” Had he inherited this from his father, the man standing before him?
Verrick’s eyebrow twitched. “Not that I can recall.”
And Lucas smiled slightly to realize he was sharing reminiscences about his mother with the man who’d fathered him. They weren’t the type of memories he would’ve preferred, but still… There was a strange sort of rightness to the whole encounter.
Verrick stepped further into the room. “Today is your birthday.”
He’d remembered.
From the table, Shannon spoke up. “It’s traditional to wish someone a happy birthday, you know.”
“And will my words change the state of his birthday? Will my saying so make it a happier day for him?”
It sounded as if the two of them had had this conversation before.
There was a grin in Shannon’s voice when she said, “Yes, Verrick. I really think it would.”
Lucas turned slightly to see his wife staring at his father with a sort of challenge on her face and a smile on her lovely lips. And Verrick seemed to understand.
He inclined his head to Shannon, then turned his attention once more to Lucas. “Happy birthday, Lucas.”
Inexplicably, Shannon was right. Verrick’s words did make Lucas’s day happier.
“Thank you.” He gestured to the seat beside Cora’s. “Would you like to join us?”
Verrick stared at him a few moments longer than comfortable, then turned his attention to Cora. Another pause, then he nodded. “Yes. Very much.”
Cora smiled. “You’re just saying that because you want to try this cake Shannon made.”
The older man
didn’t blink, didn’t react. His eyes flicked to Lucas. “Possibly.”
From the table, Shannon mock-whispered to her sister, “I think that was supposed to be a joke. We’re still working on the concept.”
“I think you should work with him on delivery,” Cora whispered back, grinning at Verrick the entire time.
“He doesn’t have your superb sense of comedic timing, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Cora responded. “I’ll have to teach him the one about the man and the horse.”
“Just leave out the hand gestures, please.”
Lucas could barely contain his laughter as he watched his father—the west’s most notorious gunslinger—glance helplessly between the two women, obviously not understanding their teasing.
Here Lucas was, standing in his kitchen, surrounded by his family on his birthday. He had a wife whom he adored, a baby on the way, and a sister-in-law who kept life interesting. He had a ranch he could build into a success, a delicious-looking lemon cake, and friends who cared about him. And now, thanks to a twist of fate, he had the chance to get to know his real father.
When he clapped Verrick on the shoulder, the man looked startled at the casual familiarity. That didn’t stop Lucas from smiling into golden eyes a few shades lighter than his own, and jerking his thumb to the table—and the delicious cake.
“If you want dessert, you have to put up with these two.”
“I’ve endured worse.” Verrick’s delivery would’ve been deadpan, if he had any other tone to compare it to.
Shannon mock-whispered, “His jokes are getting better.”
“Almost as good as mine,” Cora responded.
Lucas’s grin grew as he watched Verrick’s brow raise.
“Welcome to the family, Father.”
Coming Soon
Ahhh! Caroline! You can’t just leave us with such a tantalizing hint there might be something going on between Verrick and Cora, then end the book! Ahhhhh!
Don’t worry, my friends! Honestly, Verrick’s romance was the one I’ve been looking forward to reading as well…so here it is! Verrick’s Vixen is waiting!
