“I did, but he couldn’t,” her husband replied. “He needed to go.”
Zoe frowned. “Will he be coming back?”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. He still wouldn’t say,” he stated. “But I have the feeling we’ll see Pope again, someday.”
“I hope so,” Zoe answered. “I owe him a lot.”
“So do I,” Quinn agreed. “So do I.”
The night progressed with more fun and games than Zoe expected, but it ended sooner for her and Quinn than it did the patrons of the Red Stallion. They’d traveled for a long time and fatigue swooped in after two hours of revelry.
Zoe and Quinn made their way upstairs. They didn’t bother to unpack, they were both too exhausted. They fell on the bed beside each other.
Quinn’s hand closed around hers as they looked up at the ceiling. “I want to build you a house,” he said suddenly. Zoe sat up immediately. She turned and propped up on her arm to look at him.
“What did you say?”
Quinn raised himself up on his elbows and looked at her closely. “I want to build you a house,” he repeated. “We can’t stay here. This was fine when it was just you, but it won’t work for the future. You need a house, Zoe. You need a place to make your own. A place where you can be the woman of the house,” he stated.
The smile that spread across Zoe’s face threatened to eclipse her entirely. A house? Her house? This thought was almost inconceivable in how wonderful it was. She said nothing to Quinn about her desire, yet he knew it all the same.
“How will we do this?” she questioned.
“I’ll find some of the boys in town to help me. Maybe the men from the Sheriff’s Office,” Quinn suggested.
“You mean to do this yourself?” Zoe asked incredulously.
“Why not?” Quinn said with a chuckle. “I think I’m capable enough to build you a house.”
Zoe laughed. “I’m not so sure,” she teased.
“Is that so?” Quinn answered as his hands found her waist. He began to tickle her mercilessly as Zoe wriggled and writhed in an attempt to get away. She laughed so hard her body shook.
“All right,” she said repeatedly. “Yes, you can do it. You can do anything,” she said breathlessly as she settled beneath the weight of his body.
Quinn looked down at her. “You concede?” he asked, as he intertwined his fingers with hers by her head.
“I do,” she answered, as a grin spread across her face.
“Good,” Quinn replied. “A man likes to know that his wife believes in him.”
“I do,” Zoe answered.
“I know,” her husband replied as he leaned his head and kissed her.
Quinn slid onto the mattress beside her and pulled her body against his. He kissed her head as he held her. “You know I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered.
Zoe lay there as the night progressed and Quinn’s breathing slowed. She knew he was asleep. She smiled as she thought of the man who held her. If there was such a thing as a soulmate, then she’d found him. He’d walked into her saloon and changed her life, and it was all for the better.
She wasn’t sure what the next day would hold, but she was sure that it would only get better. There was something deep inside her that told her that the life she’d had so far, was only a shadow of the good things that were yet to come.
Would she be a mother one day? She hoped so. How many children would she have? She didn’t care. It didn’t matter how many there were, as long as they were happy and healthy. That was all that mattered to her.
Zoe rolled over in bed and faced her husband. Quinn’s dark hair was partially hanging over his eye. She brushed it aside gently so she could see his face better. She traced her finger along the bridge of his nose and then down over his lips. Quinn licked them in his sleep as she touched them. Zoe stifled a chuckle at the action.
“I love you, Quinn,” she whispered. She kissed the tip of his nose twice. “I’m going to spend my life telling you that.”
Zoe closed her eyes and snuggled closer to her husband. She didn’t need a blanket to help her stay warm, she had his body for that and she stayed close to him. Sleep crept up and covered her eyes. Zoe didn’t fight the urge to succumb. She let sleep take her. The last thing on her mind was the love she had in her heart for the man that had changed her life. Things would only get better. Tomorrow would be a new adventure.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
Eager to read how Zoe and Quinn’s relationship evolved? Then enjoy this complimentary short story featuring the beloved couple!
Simply TAP HERE to read it now for FREE! or use this link: http://www.cassidyhanton.com/qwn7 directly in your browser.
I guarantee you, that you won’t be disappointed ♥
But before you go, turn the page for an extra sweet treat from me…
A sweet treat from the Wild West…
Turn on to the next page to read the first chapters of The Salvation of a Runaway Bride, a sweet and clean Western historical romance with a happily-ever-after!
The Salvation of a Runaway Bride
About the book
For she made him risk everything for a future worth dying for...
Laura Edmonds always had her life planned out for her. When she leaves home for the very first time to take care of her injured aunt in Utah, she couldn't have imagined that life could be such a wondrous adventure.
Abe Mavor, a charming young cowboy, lives alone on his ranch. Once he lays his eyes upon his friend’s beautiful niece, he realizes she may be the light to pull him out of the darkness he’s been praying for all along.
But as their love starts to grow, so do the obstacles that threaten to pull them apart...
A rich but obscure businessman suddenly appears claiming to be Laura’s fiancé, and danger lurks wherever he goes. When Laura disappears, Abe realizes the man is not who he says he is. Racing against time, he must find Laura before she is taken away from him forever.
Chapter One
Laura Edmonds stroked a heavy brush across her mare’s, Duchess’, smooth chestnut coat. The barn was completely still except for the click of Duchess’ hooves as she shifted her weight and occasionally snorted. Laura’s straw-blonde hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders as she polished the mare to a gleaming shine.
Laura was an exceptionally beautiful girl, with sharp, hazel eyes and a smooth, milky complexion. She had always stood out among the girls in Tucson whom she had grown up with. The men had taken notice and now that she had just turned twenty, a suitor was not far off on the horizon for her.
But Laura was a dreamer, too caught up in books to notice. She was far happier dreaming of far-off lands with daring adventures, than she was concerned with which boy she may have caught the eye of. Laura shifted a saddle onto Duchess’ back and led her out the back, into the quiet Arizona morning.
In one swift swing, Laura hopped into the saddle, adjusted her skirt, and clicked her tongue, as she gave the mare a gentle squeeze. Duchess responded quickly, her hooves springing to life underneath Laura. “That’s it my girl,” Laura whispered.
She pressed her heels in a little tighter and clicked again, and Duchess stretched into a wide, fast gait. Laura’s hair flew behind her. It seemed like the ground melted away beneath them and the sun rose brightly ahead of them, as the morning came into full view.
In another life, Laura wished she could race. She and Duchess, flying across long stretches of earth leaving others in their dust, or wrapping skillfully around barrels in an intricate dance. But that was not the life of a lady and, with her father, Xavier, running his store in town and being a well-respected man of the community, it seemed Laura’s life was already quite buttoned up for her.
Her father would choose a suitable husband for her and she would bring him children that, hopefully, lived up to their mother’s beauty. She would keep a tidy home wherever her husband saw fit to plant it and that would be that. Not so bad a life, she thought.
But in those early hours when no one was around to witness, she and Duchess could glimpse that other future for a few moments.
One quick pass around the pasture was all she had time for. She tightened the reigns on Duchess as they neared the barn, until she slowed to a hesitant walk. “I know, my love, I wish for more as well,” she whispered into Duchess’ soft, twitching ear as she patted her neck. Duchess’ sides heaved, as did Laura’s chest, after their quick morning jaunt.
She slid out of the saddle and made quick work of untacking and setting Duchess out to pasture for the day. She then hurried inside the house to collect herself before the other ladies arrived for knitting club.
Their house was situated on a patch of land just outside Tucson. It was clean and bright, thanks to her mother’s fastidious housekeeping, and the windows were dressed in lovely calico fabrics with a delicate flower print, that Laura had picked out when the travelling merchant had brought samples to her father’s store.
She remembered tracing the delicate swatches with her fingers and imagining how they would look against Father’s oiled wooden desk and Mother’s delicate glass figurines, which she polished and arranged along the mantle of the fireplace.
As soon as she stepped inside the door, she heard the sounds of her mother, Mrs. Dorothy Edmonds, shuffling about in the kitchen, muttering to herself.
“That Daisy Thompson, couldn’t tell her nose from her elbow, I do believe. Ask her to pick up the blue yarn, just that simple, lovely blue yarn that Mr. Edmonds got shipped in special, and what does she bring back? Black. I certainly can’t knit a funeral blanket for Linda Edwards new baby, that button-cute little boy. Oh, I hope Maisel has some yards I can borrow. She better at least, after all, I heard it’s been quite the year for Mr….Laura?”
Her mother’s voice hit an inquisitive octave, as she noticed Laura enter the kitchen. She stared at Laura’s windswept hair for a beat, as her lips drew a disapproving line.
“Well, it’s about time. Go straighten yourself up, I need you to run into town and fetch me some blue yarn before the knitting club gets here.”
“Yes, mama,” Laura said obligingly.
She sat in front of her vanity mirror and ran her soft brush across her hair, revealing the same kind of shine she had imparted on Duchess earlier. She smoothed the fabric of her blue dress and admired the delicate lace around the collar that her mother had so lovingly sewn into place.
She gathered her small purse and headed out the door to retrieve Duchess and head into town. Duchess happily snorted when she saw Laura again.
Once in town, she hitched Duchess to the post outside the general store and headed inside. Her father, Xavier, stood behind the counter. His face lit up when he saw Laura.
“My dear, good to see you this morning. What did your mother forget?” he asked with a smile.
“Blue yarn for knitting club. Linda Edwards just had a baby boy,” Laura replied sweetly.
“Well, that’s lovely for the Edwards. I should have some blue yarn still stashed away around here somewhere.” Xavier hunted around in the crates that were strewn haphazardly around the shop.
“Father, you may want to organize around here a bit better.” Laura laughed.
“Well, I’m always happy to accept some help, dear! But you’re always too busy with the knitting club, or reading, or off somewhere that I can’t keep track of. My little vagabond.” Her father chuckled, as he continued to hunt. “Aha, found it.” He smiled, as he retrieved the blue yarn from a crate in a corner.
“Well, I’m here now, let me see. What if we took these crates…” she said, as she pointed to the haphazard pile of crates in the corner, “and stacked them like so.”
She demonstrated by turning one of the crates on its side, creating a neat little shelf. “Then you put each color of yarn in each crate, so the ladies can come in and browse instead of you having to hunt around for them every time.” She created a neat, triangular stack of blue yarn in one of the sideways crates. “Add a touch of fabric draped over the top and it’ll even brighten up the shop a bit.”
Xavier looked at her, beaming. “My daughter, always full of ideas and surprises,” he said.
Laura cradled the spool of yarn as her father kissed her on the cheek.
“Go on now, get back to your mother before she has a heart attack,” he said.
Laura headed back out onto the street. It was late summer, and Tucson was dry and hot. Duchess’ head hung low as Laura tucked the yarn into her saddlebag. The town was bustling. Ladies walked in groups with small children in tow, chatting away as they ran their errands. Men stood around smoking pipes and holding up newspapers.
As much as Laura loved to go into town and watch the people in their intricate ballet, she enjoyed the quiet outside of town more. She felt like Tucson closed her in too much. There was no room to run.
She arrived back home at about a quarter to noon. In the next room, she heard the clamor of the ladies arriving for knitting club.
Wonder what the gossip will be today. I’m sure Mrs. Hammond will have something fresh and juicy. Can’t help but spread around whatever she hears or sees.
As Laura entered the parlor, the ladies were already chirping away. Her mother was in the center of it all, proudly holding court on all the latest gossip.
“Did you hear about Linda Neil?”
“No, whatever should I have heard?”
“Ran off with the butcher’s boy. Nothing but trouble that one, I always said.”
“Such a shame. Such a pretty young thing. Was promised to Ezekiel Brown I do believe. Good lad, but he’ll have to find better.”
Laura picked up her knitting and quietly moved through her stitches, listening to the ladies talk of births, and engagements, and scandalous affairs. Every day the gossip was different, but still the same. It had a certain comfort to it.
A few moments later, the sound of an unexpected set of boots echoed on the front porch. The ladies suddenly paused and fell silent, craning their necks to see whoever it may have been. Through the front door came Laura’s father.
“Xavier, what on earth brings you home so soon? Has something happened at the store?” Laura’s mother, Dorothy asked.
“No, my dear, everything is fine,” he replied. “But I did receive a telegram that we should see to immediately. It’s from your sister in Utah.”
Upon hearing that, Dorothy sprang up from her seat, allowing her knitting to drop to the floor. She crossed the room and Xavier handed her the telegram. As she read, a worried look crossed her face.
“Oh my…oh no…Xavier…she’s all by herself! We must find a way to help.”
“What’s happened, Mama?” Laura asked.
“Your Aunt Ethel, she’s fallen and broken her leg. She’s been all on her own since your Uncle Ernest passed, and there’s no way she can manage her home and keep up with her marmalade orders in her state.” Dorothy handed the telegram back to Xavier and wrung her hands worriedly. She looked back to Xavier. “We should send Laura. She can help her while she heals.”
Laura’s eyes lit up. In her twenty years she had never been out of Tucson, never even met her Aunt Ethel. Her father was skeptical.
“I don’t know, Dorothy, about sending her all that way alone,” he said.
The ladies of the knitting club, who had all been listening intently, clinging to this fantastic new event, began to weigh in.
“Oh, of course Laura should go,” Maisel piped up.
“She’s an absolute dream of a help to all of us,” Mrs. Harrison emphatically agreed.
“Remember the week before last when I had to rush over to help Linda with the new baby? She came right on over to watch my little ones and had them clean as God himself and sleeping like cherubs by the time I got back,” Mrs. Madison proudly exclaimed.
Laura felt a slight flush in her cheeks as she listened to the ladies compliment her. Her mind drifted to Utah.
A new adventure perhaps. I wonder what Aunt Ethel is like.
She pictured Utah, which she imagined as being so dramatically different from Arizona. Father looked at her lovingly as she waited for his response.
“Well I do believe that’s settled then. I’ll make the arrangements for you,” he said.
And with that, he headed back out the door to return to the store. The ladies of the knitting club buzzed with excitement, but Laura hardly heard any of it.
Chapter Two
The next day, Laura was up early to help her mother with breakfast. The thought of traveling to Utah swam around in her mind. Her mother was equally excited.
“Oh, Laura dear, I hope you’ll enjoy Utah. I don’t know how I’ll manage without you though,” she said.
“I’ll miss you too, Mama. It’s a strange thing to think of, being that far from home,” Laura said, as she kneaded a loaf of bread.
“Your Aunt Ethel is a spirited one, can’t believe she’s actually reached out for help, she must be in bad shape,” her mother continued. “You remind me of her sometimes.”
“Really?” Laura asked, curious.
“Yes, you’ve got a similar fire and independence in you. Got her into quite a bit of trouble when we were growing up,” her mother said, disapprovingly.
“Are you implying I’ve been trouble mother?” Laura asked, feigning shock.
A Western Tale of Love and Fate: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 28