"Maybe you need to rethink your premise," Marc said. "Instead of a winter village, this could be a place where couples came to conceive. Shamans ritually bathed to maintain their powers, so maybe couples took part in a ritual of being immersed in the pool before having sex."
"Or maybe they had sex while immersed," Kit said. "I told you I thought I felt my egg having sex with your sperm. In fact, I think I feel a little zygote flipping its way up my fallopian tube right now."
Marc looked at her in amusement. Then he took the light from her and set it down, and pulling her into his arms he kissed her, looked at her steadily, and said, "I think we just shifted my PhD project from dropping muons down holes in Belize, to an in depth study of petroglyphs in a cave in Oregon."
"Does that mean we've filled in all the voids in our lives?" Kit asked.
Marc nodded. "Filled in the voids, and added a little extra. I want to call her Lizzy."
"Are you serious?" Kit asked.
"Well, Elizabeth," Marc said, "but we'll call her Lizzy for short."
Kit didn't quite know what to make of Marc's enthusiasm to start a family, or his fixation on having a daughter when most men wanted a son, but then, she wasn't marrying an ordinary man, so there was no reason to assume he'd approach marriage and family and life in an ordinary way. "Then since you picked the name for our daughter," she said, "I get to pick the kind of wedding we'll have."
Marc eyed her dubiously. "What do you have in mind?"
"A Mayan wedding," Kit said. "That way you can keep the ponytail, since Mayan men had ponytails, and we won't have to worry about shoes since the Maya went barefoot. I'll wear a natural, homespun skirt and brocaded blouse like the women did, and you'll wear an embroidered loincloth decorated with shells and parrot feathers like the men. And while we exchange vows, I'll be thinking about what's under that loincloth. I can tell you for a fact, that long-fingered, big busted goddess would not have been disappointed."
"Honey," Marc said, "I think my jet-propelled delivery system has just been refueled..."
EPILOGUE
Dancing Moon Ranch - three weeks later
Maureen Hansen looked at the lineup of Hansen grandsons, all shaved and clean and wearing their best clothes, the group of young men standing just to the side of the grape arbor, where Kit and Marc were exchanging wedding vows. They were a handsome bunch. Adam would have been proud of these boys. They were still sowing a few wild oats, but when they'd finally settle on mates they'd be faithful. It seemed to be in the Hansen genes.
She found it ironic that Marc, the one Hansen grandchild whose veins did not carry Nez Perce blood, was the one interested in the Indian mound, while Tyler, the one who looked Nez Perce, had no interest in the Indian mound at all, though Tyler had been curious about the sounds in Whispering Springs from as far back as she could remember.
She also noticed that Ryan couldn't seem to keep his eyes off Annie Kincaid, who was sitting with her folks and the other guests attending the wedding. The Kincaids had visited the ranch on several occasions when Matt and Ruth Kincaid were thinking about starting a guest ranch, and now that they had, they were looking to hire a ranch hand to oversee the riding horses and take guests on trail rides. She suspected they'd come to check out the Hansen boys, with Ryan the most likely candidate since, much to Grace's dismay, Ryan was growing increasingly anxious to go off on his own, and he let the word out. But if Ryan didn't stop staring at Annie, he'd no longer be in the running. She doubted if Matt Kincaid would look favorably on one of the ranch hands chasing after his daughter, if the man was anything like Jack was with Maddy.
Maureen looked across the grassy center aisle and saw Kit's family, who'd come from Albuquerque, as well as Marc's grandparents, the Templetons. The Templetons arrived from Texas the day before, and their meeting with Grace and Jack had been tense, but as the day progressed, and the attention turned to Marc and Kit, things changed some, and she was certain that as soon as the grandbabies would start to arrive there would be a coming together. Already the Templetons were talking about moving from Texas to be close to Marc when Marc's grandfather would be retiring from the university at the end of the following year.
"And now you may kiss the bride," the minister announced.
Maureen smiled as Marc and Kit kissed for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Marc Hansen. Marc looked exceptionally handsome in his new safari suit, as Kit requested he wear, and Kit looked beautiful with her hair down and a little cluster of flowers in it, nothing more. She was wearing a simple wedding dress because she said she wanted the focus to be on the vows they'd be exchanging, vows they'd written out specifically for each other.
Kit was also wearing the dancing moon pendant that Adam commissioned a Hopi Indian to make while she and Adam were on their honeymoon. When Jack and Grace married, she'd given the pendant to Grace to wear as something old, with the idea that Grace would pass it down the line. She wasn't surprised when Grace gave it to Kit—a symbolic gesture to make sure Marc knew he was a Hansen through and through. Marc seemed to get it now, but it had taken him twenty-five years, and the right woman.
Kit was exactly what Marc needed. Their exchange when they stopped by to pick up the pendant the week before, and to decide what Marc should wear, was both playful and insightful, giving her a glimpse into their private world. It was also a reminder of how it had been when she and Adam were in the prime of their married life. She left the room to get the pendant, and when she returned, she heard the exchange from the hallway. Marc was sitting in a kitchen chair, with Kit standing behind him while trying to decide which of three cords to tie his ponytail with, when Marc tipped his head back, looked up at Kit, and said, "Honey, I can cut it off. I intended to do it anyway before we left Belize."
Kit bent down and kissed Marc on the forehead, and said, "No way. You know how I feel about your hair. Besides, you wouldn't look right nibbling on a mastodon bone with a buzz cut, and while we're on our honeymoon, we're going to share a whole lot of bones."
Marc grinned, like it was their private joke, and said, "You still haven't said what I'm supposed to wear for the wedding. If I start thinking about sharing a mastodon bone with you, a loincloth could be an embarrassment, but since my groomsmen will be wearing western dress, I could too, and we could dress as a cowboy and his squaw."
"I admit, you give me palpitations when you wear tight jeans," Kit said, "but I want you to wear khakis and a safari shirt."
Marc grabbed Kit's arm and pulled her around to sit on his lap, and said, "I thought you had a thing for cowboys."
Kit laced her fingers behind Marc's neck, and replied, "I do, but I have a bigger thing for an archaeologist whose roots are buried deep in an Indian mound on the Dancing Moon Ranch." She kissed him lightly, and added, "But I wouldn't mind if you put a little deet on your chest."
Marc eyed her with amusement. Then his face sobered, and he looked at Kit with all the love a man could possibly hold in his heart, and said, "Thank you, honey, for bringing me home."
After Marc and Kit walked down the aisle, and while Maureen was waiting for the other wedding guests to leave their chairs and funnel to the lodge for the reception, Howard Barker, who was sitting beside her, covered her hand with his and said, "It's time, honey. Our spouses have been gone for over twenty-five years now, and before our memories of them begin to fade, we can still have a few good years together to reminisce and keep the memories going longer."
Maureen gave Howard's hand a squeeze and remained holding it. They went back so many years she could barely remember when she hadn't known him, or his wife Evie. They'd stood at each other's weddings as they repeated vows to mates they'd hoped to be with well into old age. Still, after they'd lost their spouses, they'd stayed connected by phone and Christmas cards and meeting for lunch on occasion, sharing life changes about their children and grandchildren.
But now, she couldn't help thinking Howard was right. A couple of years back he'd broached the idea of their getting married, more f
or old time's sake than love, she'd thought, but for the first time since she'd lost Adam, the idea of sharing her life with another man didn't seem so unimaginable. Still, her roots were planted deeply in Dancing Moon soil.
"I can't leave here," she said to Howard. "It's my whole life."
"I know," Howard replied, "but maybe there's room in your little house for me."
Maureen saw the expectant look in Howard's eyes. He had a nice face, one she wouldn't mind looking at as the years went by. "I think it could be arranged," she found herself saying. "Could we move Evie's remains here and have them re-interred in our family plot?"
Howard looked at her in surprise, then in relief, like a big burden had been lifted from his shoulders. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind?" he asked.
"How could I mind?" Maureen said. "The four of us have been together for three-quarters of our lives, whether in the physical body or in our hearts. Evie belongs with us now. And after we're gone, we'll be buried with our first mates, and still all be together."
Howard moved their clasped hands to rest on top of his knee, and said, "I've loved you for years, honey, but in a different way than I loved Evie. But maybe that's changing some. Can a man love two women in the same lifetime?"
Maureen laughed, and replied, "Let's not try to romanticize this. Let's just enjoy what we have, a love that goes back sixty years. But I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with a man again. I never adjusted to sleeping alone after I lost Adam."
Howard smiled in amusement. "Is that a proposition?"
Maureen eyed the man sitting beside her. He still had a full head of hair, although snow white now, and was nice-looking for a man in his late seventies. Actually handsome, the kind of face she wouldn't mind looking at over breakfast each morning. She felt a little ripple of awareness. "Could be. Do you have a playful streak?"
"Haven’t for a number of years," Howard said, "but sometimes an old sleeping dog can wake up."
Maureen laughed. "Well, if he starts to get frisky you let me know." As soon as she'd said the words, she felt her face grow hot.
Howard laughed. "Honey, I haven't seen a blush like that in years. Do you think you can handle a frisky old dog?"
Maureen felt little odd tingles in places that had been dormant for years. She was also aware of a glint in Howard's eye that told her an old dog could very well be waking up. To her surprise, she found the idea appealing. "I think I'd like to try," she said, then wondered where her cheeky words had come from. She hadn't flirted in years, but it was beginning to come back.
"Would the family be too upset if we had our own little ceremony next month?" Howard asked. When Maureen didn't respond, because she was caught up in wondering how it would be to have a man other than Adam in her bed, Howard said, "I'm sorry, honey, I think I'm pushing you. You probably need time to think some."
Maureen saw the resolve in Howard's eyes and already missed that little glint of moments before. "Time and frisky old dogs are the two things we don't have much of anymore," she said. "Next month's fine with me. But maybe we could take a short honeymoon trip somewhere."
"I never thought of that," Howard said. "Is there someplace special you want to go?"
"No," Maureen said. "I just don't want all these young bucks around here to see me smiling the morning after we marry and figure out what Grandma and her new husband have been up to."
Howard winked. "Keep talking like that and the old dog might remain frisky forever."
Maureen couldn't help grinning, and wondering, and thinking that maybe there was a little untapped spice left in her life.
Before that thought had settled in, Howard crooked his finger under her chin, kissed her lightly on the lips, and said, "I like the grin. It just turned a frisky old dog into a pup."
"I can handle pups too," Maureen said. Continuing to hold Howard's hand, they went to join the others at the reception, prepared to make their own announcement.
###
Thank you!
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed Bittersweet Return. If you did, I'd love for you to:
Consider posting a review: I appreciate all reviews because I want to give readers the best read I can. Here's the link to Amazon
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Read the first three chapters of Cross Purposes, which is Book 7 in my Dancing Moon Ranch Series. I hope you'll like what you read well enough to buy the book.
Check out the Dancing Moon Ranch Family Album. The 14-book Dancing Moon Ranch Series is illustrated with over 600 full-color photographs depicting the ranch and all the characters in the series, including books not yet released. You'll also see what it was like during the "missing years" in the series, when the children of the characters in Books 1-3 (the future heroes and heroines) were growing up on the ranch. To review or buy the Dancing Moon Ranch Family Album, click here
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those who missed reading Justified Deception, the Prequel to the Dancing Moon Ranch Series, now is a good time to catch up. In Justified Deception you'll read about Ruth and Matt Kincaid's bumpy start in which Ruth suspects that Matt's 6-year-old daughter, Annie, is Ruth's own little Beth, who was kidnapped 4 years before. Then jump ahead 15 years to Cross Purposes, in which 21-year-old Annie butts horns with Ryan Hansen from the Dancing Moon Ranch. Here's the link to Justified Deception on Amazon.
STORY DESCRIPTION: Annie Kincaid's a wild horse advocate. Ryan Hansen's a bronco buster. The fact that Annie's father hired Ryan to oversee the trail horses and take guest ranch visitors on trail rides definitely doesn't sit well with Annie. She's had her fill of hot-shot cowboys who think life's all about busting, breaking or bulldogging, and of all the Hansen boys from the Dancing Moon Ranch, Ryan's the cockiest of the bunch. Ryan also has a lot to learn about managing Annie Kincaid. In the past he's had no problem attracting women, but now he wants the one woman who'll take special handling. But in the process, Annie also learns something about Ryan she never could have imagined, something that has her taking a second look.
PROLOGUE: CROSS PURPOSES
Dancing Moon Ranch, Sheridan, Oregon
Annie Kincaid stood with her parents at the wedding reception for Jack and Grace Hansen’s son Marc, while listening to Jack Hansen rattle off a litany of reasons why his next son in line, Ryan—who at the moment was at the food table, sandwiched between two women who were flirting and hanging off him like a set of drapes—would be suited for the position of managing the herd of Kincaid Ranch horses and leading guests on trail rides. But from the anxious look on Grace Hansen's face, as her husband praised the glory of their son, Annie sensed that the woman wasn't in agreement with her husband in shoving one of her fledglings out of the nest.
Annie knew that look because she'd seen it on her own mother's face when anyone brought up the subject of her only child one day leaving the nest. It had never been a real issue though, because she'd never had the desire to be anywhere but on the Kincaid Ranch. Obviously Jack Hansen saw a need for his son to cut some ties and go off on his own…
"Ryan has a natural ability with horses," Jack Hansen continued. "He works with our most unmanageable ones and has them settled and ready for greenhorn riders in no time. There's a running joke around here that Ryan never has trouble with horses because he always knows what to do just before the horse decides." As he said the words, Jack’s eyes narrowed in irritation as he watched the woman on Ryan’s left take an olive on the end of her finger, poke it into Ryan's mouth and withdraw her finger slowly from between Ryan’s lips. Ryan winked at her while he chewed, but after swallowing he said something that made the woman laugh in a way that led Annie to believe it was off color because the woman gave Ryan a playful swat on the arm.
Annie’s dad, who had his back to Ryan and wasn’t watching the absurd interaction, said to Jack, "He sounds like the man I’m looking for. Our riding horses are trail wise but I want a skilled handler to deal with inexperienced riders w
hen a horse spooks."
Jack threw his shoulders back in a way that reminded Annie of a proud peacock, and said, "Ryan makes a point of spending time with the greenhorns before they set out. He also connects well with people."
Annie’s dad glanced around just as the woman on Ryan’s right brushed Ryan’s lips with the pad of her index finger, which Ryan playfully nipped. "Yeah, he doesn’t seem to have a problem connecting," Matt Kincaid said, with irony.
Annie hoped that would convince her father that Ryan Hansen should not be the one to lead the daughters of ranch guests into the back country or anywhere else. In fact, of all the sons of Grace and Jack Hansen, Ryan was the one Annie least wanted working for her dad. He’d be around the stables and in the vicinity of the house all the time, and she could think of nothing she’d hate more than having to watch him on a daily basis, strutting around, flexing his muscles.
Jack, who looked pretty ticked with what his son was doing at the moment, said in an almost apologetic voice, "He’s really not a womanizer, but women seem to gravitate toward him because he’s made a name for himself in the rodeo circuit by taking championships in bucking broncs and bull riding."
La di da, Annie almost said aloud. She also noted that Ryan had removed the jacket he’d worn during the wedding ceremony, and since his western shirt was tight around his biceps, every move he made seemed choreographed to show off his muscles in Mr. America like poses—arm curls while bringing ham rolls and cheese puffs to his mouth, body twists while reaching around to retrieve tea sandwiches…
Annie’s dad draped his hand against the back of Annie’s mother’s neck, and said, "Ruth’s been wanting to set up overnight horseback campouts for months, but even if I could spare one of my men, they aren't willing, so I haven’t pushed it."
Bittersweet Return (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 6) Page 20
