by Laura Drewry
Will rolled his eyes. “Don’t have to tell me that,” he grumbled. “She insisted.”
“Yes, I insisted,” Carrie said. “Reverend Walters was out there and I knew I couldn’t leave with you all thinking I’d shamed you.”
“So you rode half the night instead?”
“Yes.” Carrie nodded, and even though Will grumbled again, the light in his eye when he looked at Carrie made Jo’s heart soften. A little.
“And where does Travers fit into all this?” Jo asked quietly. “Your note said--”
“I’m so sorry,” Carried gushed. “I worded that silly thing all wrong. I didn’t mean you’d hate me because I left with Levi, just that you’d hate me for leaving without saying goodbye.”
“But. . .” The pool of dread overflowed in her stomach. Jo raced out of the house and retched on the ground. She took her time going back into the kitchen, knowing what she’d have to face.
Ginny patted her back and handed her a glass of water.
“Is there any whiskey?” she rasped.
Reverend Walters hissed out a breath, then smiled. “Sounds like a grand idea.”
“Travers had nothing to do with this,” Will said. “When he found my note, I guess he--”
“Your note?” Jo croaked.
Mac patted her hand softly. “It was his note I found in Travers’s cabin.”
“I think I’m going to be sick again.”
“No you’re not,” Ginny said. “Now sit down and listen to the rest of this.” As she spoke, she slid Jo a glass with two fingers of whiskey in it, then set the bottle down beside her. She handed the reverend a cup of coffee.
“Anyway,” Will continued. “Once he saw the note, I guess he thought the worst and came tearing after us.”
Jo downed half the glass in one swallow. “But why didn’t he tell me?”
“Dunno.” Will shrugged. “Hell, I don’t even know how he trailed us all the way to the Scully’s but he did. Fit to be tied by the time he got there, too.”
“I imagine,” she murmured.
“Was too late, anyway. The Reverend had already married us.”
Jo rubbed her pounding head, then swallowed the rest of her whiskey.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Why come all the way back here now instead of going straight on to San Francisco?”
Will and Carrie laughed. They laughed hard. And the harder they laughed, the angrier Jo became.
“What is so goddamned funny?”
“Miss McCaine.” Reverend Walters frowned over his coffee at her, but she ignored him.
“Oh my goodness, Joanna,” Carried continued to laugh as she spoke. “You should have seen Levi. Once he found out it was all innocent, he said he’d rather ride on to California with us than have to come back here and face you alone. He knew you were going to be mad.”
“So he made you. . .”
“Yes,” Will whined. “He made us ride all the way back here just to prove to you that he wasn’t the lying bastard – sorry, Reverend – that you and Mac probably thought he was.”
Jo’s eyes rounded on Mac, who shrugged guiltily and smiled. “Told you I was wrong.”
“What about San Francisco?” she asked, turning back to Carrie.
“Oh, we’re still going,” she said. “In a few days.”
“Oh my God.” Jo slumped over on the table, her head resting on her arms. “What have I done?”
“I don’t know,” Will said slowly. “What have you done?”
The kitchen door opened and everyone gasped except Jo. She knew who it was. And she knew how he looked, too.
“Ginny,” Travers said thickly. “Could I borrow a couple rags?”
“Jeez, Joey,” Mac whistled. “What d’you do to him?”
Jo kept her head down, but shook it against her arms.
“Seems her right hook is just as good as she claimed it was,” Travers said, sliding into Ginny’s vacant seat.
“That’s my girl,” Mac said with pride. “Taught her everything I know.”
“I believe it.”
She listened to Travers shuffle in his seat, trying to get comfortable, but for the life of her, she couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t.
“Tell me she knows what’s happened,” he groaned. “’Cuz she wouldn’t listen to a thing I had to say.”
Will snorted. “She knows.”
“Yes,” Ginny hurried to add. “She knows. So why don’t all of us leave these two alone for a while and let them talk?”
No. Don’t go. Don’t leave me with him now. Shoot me instead.
Chairs scraped against the floor, boots and shoes tapped out a hurried exit and the door closed. Then there was silence. The most agonizing silence she’d ever listened to.
“So,” Travers finally said. “About that windmill.”
A huge sob broke from her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “So so sorry. I--”
Warm hands closed around her arms, making her cry harder.
“Joanna. Look at me.”
“N-no.”
More chair legs scraped against the floor, more boots scuffling around the table. Another chair scraping, then squeaking beneath his weight.
Oh God, he was right beside her now.
“Look at me.”
She shook her head. How could she look at him? Not after the things she’d thought about him, the hate she’d felt for him, and the pain she’d caused him. Again.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. His arms were around her, his head resting on hers. “I’m sorry I made you think. . .” He stopped. “And I’m really sorry I didn’t believe you when you warned me about your right hook.”
He smiled against her head, but she couldn’t laugh. All she could do was cry harder.
“Oh, come on Joanna – that was a little bit funny.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “It was.”
He turned her chair, with her still sitting in it, so their knees touched. Then he eased her twisted body up and off the table.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“What can I do to make it up to you?” His soft, beautiful voice broke. “I’ll do anything, Joanna. Just tell me.”
“Y-you. . .” She pulled her head up, inch by inch, and forced herself to face him. Though blood still oozed from his nose, plenty more had dried beneath it and around his upper lip. “Oh, Travers, I--”
She reached out to touch him, but he caught her wrist in his hand and held her fast.
“I don’t care about that,” he said, then grinned. “Sort of expected it actually.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, finally looking into his eyes.
“Don’t be,” he murmured, caressing her cheek. “Wasn’t your fault. I should have told you what was going on.”
“You knew?” she pulled back a bit, but he brought her back.
“No. I mean once I found Will’s note, I should have told you straight away. But I thought if I could bring Carrie back here, without too much fuss, that Mac would. . .well. . .I don’t know what I thought.”
“You thought you’d finally earn his respect.”
Levi shrugged.
“I’ve, um, thought some pretty horrible things about you since last night,” she admitted, her eyes cast down again. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I knew you’d be upset.”
“Upset?” she snorted. “Mac was walking around here with his shotgun last night.”
“I knew how you felt about Carrie,” he said. “About always feeling second best with her around. But I thought I’d made it plain enough it was you I wanted. Not her.”
If she could only curl up into a tiny little ball and roll away somewhere.
“Look at me.” Why did he keep making her do that?
Reluctantly, she lifted her head again. He took her hand and pressed its palm beneath his shirt, right above his heart.
“Feel that?” he asked.
Jo didn’t dare open her mouth for fear of blubbering all over him again, so she gave him a quick nod.
“That beats for you, Joanna McCaine. Only you.”
When she began to shake her head, he used his other hand to stop her.
“Yes,” he murmured. “If you want me to leave, then you may as well rip it out of my chest right now because it sure as hell isn’t going to beat without you.”
“Travers,” she said, her fingers warming to the touch of his skin.
“Levi.”
Her lips moved of their own accord, smiling up at him. “When I thought you’d left with Carrie, I wanted to die.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“And then, when she told me what had happened, I wanted to die all over again.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled her hand out, and kissed each knuckle, slowly, deliberately. When he’d reached the last one, Jo tucked it right back inside his shirt and smiled a little bigger. With her free hand, she lifted his hand and slid it inside her own shirt, resting his rough fingers over her left breast.
Levi’s eyes shot open, as did his mouth.
“Feel that?” She giggled when he only nodded. “That beats for you, Levi Travers. Only you.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Twice.
“And if you ever leave me again, you may as well rip it out of my chest because it sure as hell isn’t going to beat without you.”
Levi groaned as he reached to pull her closer. “Hot damn, but I love you.”
“Say it again.” She reached for the wet rag and began to gently wipe the blood away from his nose.
“I love you.”
“Me?” She moved the cloth over his mouth, gently rubbing away the last bits from each lip.
“Only you.”
She poured a shot of whiskey into her glass and held it to his mouth. He swallowed slowly, his gaze seeping through her entire being.
When he’d finished, she lowered the glass to the table and cupped his face between her hands.
“I promise I’ll never hit you again.”
His smile warmed her through. “I promise I’ll never give you reason to.”
“You really love me?” she asked again. Would she ever believe it?
“I really do.”
“Make me believe it,” she whispered against his whiskey-soaked lips. “Show me.”
A whoosh of cold air blew between them as he pushed back his chair and stepped away from her.
“Wha--”
“Come on, then.” He hauled her to her feet and half-pulled her outside. “Where the hell is everyone?” he muttered. “Want some privacy and there’s a million people around. Today, when I’m looking for someone, they all disappear.”
“Where are we going?” Jo stumbled after him, barely able to keep up with his long strides. “Travers, will you slow down?”
“Hello!” His voice echoed through the air, but no one answered. By this time they were clearing the stand of trees and heading toward the barns. “Hello!”
Mac stepped around the corner of the bunkhouse. “Over here.”
Levi dragged Jo around the building and there they all were – even Carrie, who’d never in her life set foot near the bunkhouse, let alone sat on the porch.
“Reverend,” Levi said. “Got your bible?”
“Of course.” Reverend Walters pulled his small black book from the pocket of his coat.
“Good. Marry us.”
“What?” the cry came from almost everyone on the porch. Everyone except Mac. He just nodded.
“Right here, right now. Just do it.”
Jo stared him, wide-eyed. “Right here?” she repeated. “Right now?”
“Yes, by God,” he said, determination blazing in his eyes. “Right now.”
“But she’s not dressed,” Ginny protested.
“She doesn’t have any flowers,” Carrie said.
“And jeez, Travers. You look like shit,” Will added.
He turned to Jo. “Do you care? Do you want a fancy dress, some flowers and better looking groom?”
Joanna stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. “Do you care? Do you want me in a fancy dress, with flowers and do you want a better looking bride?”
The love in Levi’s eyes smoldered as he gazed down into her upturned face. He caressed her cheek, then reached around and released the string from her braid.
“You know how I feel about you in dresses, flowers don’t mean a thing to me, unless they do to you, and there isn’t a better looking bride anywhere in the world.”
Someone behind them sniffed, then sobbed. Carrie?
“Reverend,” Jo said, never taking her eyes from Levi’s beautiful face. “Marry us. Right here, right now.”
o0o
“We’re married now.” Levi slid the lock on the cabin door and leaned back against it.
“So we are.” She threw him a slow, teasing grin that set his blood pumping a little faster.
“And you know what that means, right?” He pulled the stupid string tie from his neck and tossed it across the room.
“Of course.” She stepped further into the room until her hand brushed against his bed. Their bed. “It means you get to take over running this ranch and I get to sit up at the house reading books and having long, hot baths. With bubbles.”
“Uh, no.” He toed off one boot and left it by the door. “I was thinking of something else.”
“Hmm.” She slid her finger along the edge of the quilt, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “Did you mean now that we’re married, you’re going to attend church?”
“Uh, really no.” He toed off the other boot and padded across the floor behind her.
“Well, I just don’t know then.” When she batted her eyelashes at him, he lunged, catching her up in his arms.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured, burying his face into her neck. “And you still smell like strawberries.”
A soft sigh slipped from her lips a breath before he kissed her, long and deep.
“You’re growing this back, right?” she whispered, her lips tickling his earlobe, her breath warm against his skin.
“Anything you want,” he moaned. “Anything.”
“Mmmm,” she purred. “I like the sounds of that, Travers.”
“Levi,” he murmured, trailing small wet kisses against her neck. “Say it.”
“L-L--”
He slid his tongue softly across her throat. “Say it.”
“Levi!”
Levi’s chuckle rasped from his throat. “If you’d just say it the first time, we could save ourselves a lot of trouble, you know.” His smile sent warmth pooling through Jo’s system.
“But I like your trouble, Travers.” She sighed against his chest.
“It’s Levi.” He tossed her up on the bed and flashed the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. “And if it’s trouble you want, it’s trouble you’ll get.”
-THE END-
Connect with Laura online:
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Other Books by Laura Drewry
Here Comes the Bride
Charming Jo
The Devil’s Daughter
Dancing with the Devil
Plain Jayne
Prima Donna
Bio
The first book Laura ever owned was On the Banks of Plum Creek, which still sits up on the top shelf with the rest of the Little House series. She started writing in high school but it was years later when she decided to seriously sit down and write. Her books have been described as ‘delightful,’ ‘clever,’ and ‘smart, sassy and refreshingly different.’
Laura lives in southwestern British Columbia with her husband, three sons, a turtle named Sheldon and an extremely energetic German
Shepherd. She loves old tattered books, good movies, country music and the Yankees. And cheesecake.
