She slipped back into the rain slicker and pushed her hat back onto her head. She opened the door and had to shoulder it to beat back the wind. Rain swamped her as she pushed through the blinding torrent. It took twice as long to get to her truck, and when she was finally creeping down the road toward the barn, she could barely see a thing past her swishing wipers. She knew his circuit ended with the barn, so she’d try there.
The wind changed direction momentarily, and she could see movement in the horse corral. Horses couldn’t possibly still be outside, could they? She pulled up next to the barn and tried to see through the downpour, but couldn’t make anything out. She’d have to check in person. She pulled her coat up around her neck—it wasn’t going to do much good, but it was something—then hopped back out into the driving rain.
“He’s fine,” she muttered to herself, preparing to come across him dry and safe in the barn, but through the howl of the wind, she caught the terrified whinny of a horse.
Had she heard that right? Her boots slipped in the mud as she made her way around the side of the barn, rain pounding against her so that she had to keep her eyes shut until she made it to the gate to the corral. She shielded her eyes, and in a flash of lightning, she saw him. He was holding a lead rope, and Scarlet had reared up on her hind legs, pawing the air in fright. As the mare came down, she didn’t see the point of contact, but Easton crumpled.
Nora fumbled with the latch, but soon she was through. She slipped and slid through the mud, and grabbed the lead rope again, pulling Scarlet closer.
“Easton!” she gasped.
He crawled farther away, one arm tucked around his side. He’d need medical attention tonight after that kick, but first the horse had to be calmed. She fumbled with the buttons of her coat, and as she tried to take it off, Scarlet reared again. Nora jumped back and tore the coat from her body at the same time. A blast of cold rain hit her, but she was too focused to shiver. She caught the lead rope again, and when the horse came down, she whipped the coat over the mare’s head. The horse whinnied in fear, but didn’t rear again. Without the lightning to spook her, she’d be able to find her calm again.
Nora gulped in deep breaths of humid air and murmured softly as she led Scarlet toward the barn door. Easton pushed himself to his feet and followed. His face was ashen as he came into the light of the barn, and he hunched forward with a grimace.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Sure.” That was a lie, because he leaned back against the wall, wincing. “Just let me rest a second.”
* * *
EVERY BREATH LANCED through Easton’s side, and he breathed as shallowly as possible as he watched Nora get Scarlet settled in her stall. He’d been impressed—she’d known exactly what to do. If she hadn’t shown up when she did, Scarlet might have been seriously hurt. Let alone him...
Nora locked the stall and headed in his direction. He tried to straighten a little more, look slightly less pathetic, but he wasn’t sure it worked. She hauled a stool over to him and helped him sink down onto it. That made things easier, but he still didn’t like being the winded one.
“Let me see.” She eased his slicker off his shoulders and he grimaced as he straightened. Then her fingers deftly undid the front buttons of his shirt and she pulled it aside to reveal purple and red welts across his side. She ran cool fingers over his skin and when she reached his ribs, he let out a grunt of pain.
“Broken,” she confirmed.
“Why were you out here?” he breathed.
“Your coffee was cold,” she said irritably. “You never let your coffee get cold.”
She knew him better than he thought, and he was grateful that she’d come after him. She wasn’t calming down, though. Her eyes snapped fire and she took a step back.
“You know as well as I do that you’re not supposed to be working with spooked animals alone. That’s a safety issue! You could have been killed, you know! A good kick to the head, and it could have been over for you!”
“Had to make a choice,” he said, pushing himself up against the pain. He caught her hand as she went to touch the spot again. “Nora, I’m fine.”
“You are not fine!” Tears welled up in her eyes, and the blood drained from her face. He squeezed her hand and felt her trembling.
“Stop.” He tugged her against his other side, but the pain was nearly unbearable.
“I’m hurting you.” She pulled back.
“Just a bit.” But yeah, maybe less squeezing. He attempted to adjust his position. She was watching him, and it was more than sympathy in those cloudy eyes. “What?” he asked.
She pushed a wet strand of hair out of her face. “I had to ask you to stay.”
This only made it harder. They’d been over this already.
“Nora, I can’t just be your—”
She moved in closer, her mouth a breath away from his, and the words evaporated on his tongue. Then she closed the distance. His body immediately responded to her, but when he leaned into the kiss, he was stopped by that slice of pain.
“Nora, you gotta stop doing that to me,” he said with a low laugh. “A guy’s liable to get the wrong idea.”
“Please stay,” she whispered.
“I thought we talked about this.” Did they have to rehash this again to convince themselves that this was folly? It wasn’t a matter of not wanting her—he wanted her so much it would probably scandalize her. But if he let himself go, really let himself love her with all the passion that he kept sealed away inside him, he wouldn’t be able to turn it off when she couldn’t face the hard stuff. That would be a heartbreak that would never heal. What man walked into that willingly?
“My mom told me something tonight that made a whole lot of sense. She said that when you choose a man, you aren’t just putting your faith in his strength and his character, you’re choosing what the two of you are together. I’m scared, I’ll admit that, but I’m no wallflower, either. Together, you and I are pretty tough, Easton. It isn’t just you—it’s who you are when you’re with me. And who I am when I’m with you. And I think—” She blushed slightly then looked down. “I think we’re something special when we’re together.”
He reached out and caught her hand, easing her closer until he could put his arm around her waist. He held her there, his mind spinning. She’d just braved the worst storm in a decade because his coffee was cold. Obviously, he’d misjudged how tough she was. She’d come after him and hauled a spooked horse away from him, to boot.
“I’m not staying here for friendship,” he clarified. “I’ll lay it out for you. If I stay, I want to get married and raise those girls together. I want the whole package, Nora. Three kids. Mr. and Mrs. Maybe-More-Kids-Later-On.”
Her gaze flicked up to meet his—steady, constant.
“And I can’t offer much money. Heck, I work for your mom. I might move on to another ranch—depends on the future. If you take me, you take me in the good times and the bad. But I’ll work my hardest to keep those times good...” His voice caught. Would she accept him when she really thought it through? He was putting it all on the line—everything he had to offer. He wasn’t holding anything up his sleeve.
“You want to raise the girls with me?” she asked. “You really do? Because there is no halfway with three kids, Easton.”
“I’m not offering halfway,” he said, running his work-roughened hands over her smooth ones. “I know what it’s like to grow up under a shadow. My family has a stigma around here, so I get it. I don’t ever want those girls to feel like they were less than wanted. I want to raise them together, love them like crazy and teach them how to let stupid comments roll off their backs. I love you, Nora. I want to marry you, and I want to be the only daddy those girls ever know. So if you’re serious about this—if you’re willing to be something with me, then I want to be married. What do y
ou say?”
“I say yes.” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and she nodded.
It took him a moment to register her words, but when he did, he pulled her into a kiss until he couldn’t take the pain anymore. He let out a soft moan and she eased out of his arms.
“Let’s go,” she said, helping him to stand. “You need a doctor.”
“I’ll be fine,” he muttered.
“Are you going to try to fight me?” she asked incredulously. “Because if you can stand up straight, I’ll let you be.”
He smiled ruefully. “Never mind.” He allowed her to guide him to the door. The wind had died down and it was just rain now, thunder rumbling in the distance.
“I want to marry you just as soon as you can find a dress you like,” he said with a low laugh. “I hope you shop fast.”
After all these years of holding himself back, he was never going to get tired of pulling that beautiful woman into his arms. She was right—they were better together, they were tougher together and they were just what those girls needed around here. The triplets might have been born Hamptons, but they’d be the Ross kids, and no one would ever make them feel less than the beautiful gifts that they were. Their dad would make sure of it.
Epilogue
On a chilly autumn morning, as rain pattered down on the little church in downtown Hope, Nora stood in front of a full-length mirror willing her heartbeat to calm. The veil blurred her vision as she regarded her reflection. She wore a dress of clinging satin cream that spread into a rippling train behind her. The veil was simple, attached to a jeweled tiara that sat on her golden waves. She spread her hands over her fluttering stomach, the engagement ring glittering in the low light.
She was getting married this morning... She’d become Mrs. Nora Ross.
The door opened and Kaitlyn slipped inside the room. She wore an empire waist bridesmaid dress of mint green, and Nora was glad she’d chosen such a forgiving cut now that Kaitlyn’s belly had started to grow. After the nausea at the corn roast, Kaitlyn had disbelievingly taken another pregnancy test... She was five months along now and glowing with the new life she carried.
“Are the girls okay?” Nora asked.
“They’re all asleep,” Kaitlyn reassured her. “And the bottles are ready. They’ll be fine. Are you ready?”
“I think so.” Nora shot her friend a nervous smile.
“Easton told me to give you this—” Kaitlyn handed her a black velvet box, and Nora looked down at it in surprise.
“Was I supposed to buy him something?” she whispered.
“Oh, stop,” Kaitlyn laughed. “Just open it.”
Nora pried open the clamshell. Inside was a white gold charm bracelet. She lifted it out of the box, running her fingers over the delicate charms. There were three pink crystal pairs of booties, and on either side of them were two silver halves of a heart. A lump rose in her throat.
“It’s us...” she whispered.
At the clasp there was a tiny silver horseshoe—luck. But she didn’t need luck. Today they’d confirm their promises in front of friends and family, but these were words Easton had already murmured to her that morning.
I’m going to love you every day, Nora. I’m going to tell you the truth always. I’m going to stand by your side whatever comes at us. I’m yours.
Kaitlyn helped her to put the bracelet on, and as she looked down at the sparkle on her wrist, the old organ’s music swelled from the sanctuary where everyone was waiting. Easton was at the front of that church, and imagining him up there, all her nervous jitters melted away.
I’m going to love you every day, Easton. I’m going to tell you the truth always...
These weren’t hard promises to keep—they were simply putting into words what was already there. Today she was marrying her best friend.
“Okay,” Nora said, gathering up her train. “I’m ready.”
* * * * *
Don’t miss the next book in Patricia Johns’s
HOPE, MONTANA miniseries,
coming in August 2017 from
Harlequin Western Romance.
And check out previous books in the miniseries:
SAFE IN THE LAWMAN’S ARMS
HER STUBBORN COWBOY
THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS BRIDE
THE COWBOY’S VALENTINE BRIDE
Keep reading for an excerpt from A BULL RIDER TO DEPEND ON by Jeannie Watt.
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A Bull Rider to Depend On
by Jeannie Watt
Chapter One
Skye Larkin hated thinking ill of the dead, but as she pushed through the bank doors for the fourth time in two weeks, she was very, very angry with her late husband. And beyond being angry, she was, for the first time since learning the true state of her finances, afraid.
It’d been a shock, yes, to discover that the money she thought she had socked away to see the ranch through lean times was no longer there—that her husband had drained the accounts during his road trips, despite his assurances that he’d given up gambling—but for the first six months after Mason has passed away, she’d told herself it would be all right. She’d squeak through somehow. Make the payments, start to pull ahead.
At the six-month mark she had to face the reality that she wasn’t pulling ahead. In fact, after a couple of disasters, she was falling further behind, and the money she’d counted on to see her through these rough spells was now in the coffers of some high-rise Vegas casino.
Damn Mason’s gambling.
And not to mention all of his buddies who encouraged him to go out when he shouldn’t have. If Mason had stayed in his hotel room as he wanted—as he’d promised—then he wouldn’t have gambled. But no. His buddies would have none of that. One buddy in particular. And Mason had never been one to say no to a friend—even if that friend was nudging him along on the path to self-destruction.
Skye’s mouth tightened as she jerked open the truck door. She was behind one payment on the ranch and two payments on the truck. The first of the month—payment time—was inching closer, and she was rapidly running out of options. She climbed inside and rested her forehead on the steering.
She couldn’t operate the ranch without the yearly cow loan—the money that saw her through until she sold cattle. Having very few paydays during the year was the reason for the ra
nch account. Mason had no doubt planned to pay the account back with his next big win, either in the bull-riding arena or at the tables.
Mason always had big plans and every intention of carrying them out. He was young and no doubt thought he’d have lots of time to accomplish what he wanted, to rebuild Skye’s small family ranch, to start breeding bulls. An inattentive driver on the Vegas strip had put an end to all of that. And an end to Skye’s inherent belief that everything would work out if she was patient enough.
Things were nowhere close to working out.
Skye pressed her lips together and put the truck in gear. The now-familiar grinding sound came from the rear as she backed up, but, as usual, it disappeared when she put the truck in a forward gear. She ignored it. Worrying wouldn’t help anything. If it did, then the ranch would be solvent.
And now, plan B. The one she’d hoped to avoid. But after Mason’s funeral, her friend Jess Hayward had told her to call if she needed help. Made her promise to call. And she was going to make that call, regardless of whom he was related to. Now. Before she talked herself out of it.
Pulling over to the side of the road, Skye searched through her contacts and found Jess’s number. As luck would have it, he was in town. That was a good sign. Right?
“Sure,” he said when she asked if he had a few minutes to meet. “I’ll buy you a meal.”
“No, thank you.” She wouldn’t be able to eat while she was all worked up. “But I’ll have a Coke while you eat.”
“Maybe we can both have a Coke at the Shamrock and you can tell me what’s up.”
“Yes. That sounds good.” Ten minutes later she walked in the door of Gavin, Montana’s favorite drinking establishment and crossed the room to where Jess was already waiting at a table with two large Cokes in front of him.
Skye sat down and attempted a casual smile, which was harder than it should have been, due to the butterflies battling it out in her midsection. “It’s been a while.”
The Triplets' Cowboy Daddy Page 17
