Her Twins' Cowboy Dad

by Patricia Johns

  “Oh yeah?” He perked up at that. There was a sliver of hope here...

  “For what it’s worth,” Peg said, shooting him an annoyed look.

  Peg didn’t hide her feelings well, and he’d managed to disappoint her. It would have to wait. He hopped back into this truck and started the engine.

  “I’m going to town,” he called out his open window. “If anyone asks.”

  Peg smiled at that. “I’d speed a little, too, if I were you.”

  Colt did drive faster than usual as he navigated those familiar roads that led to town. He needed to lay eyes on Jane, see her face. It might not change anything—in fact it probably wouldn’t—and maybe this was just an indulgence on his part but he had to talk to her.

  He focused on the road, tapping irritably on the steering wheel as he drove. The miles clicked by on the odometer, and when he finally entered Creekside’s town limits, he felt a little bit better.

  Maybe she wouldn’t even have stopped at Creekside Creamery. Maybe she just drove on through, putting Creekside, the Marshall ranch and Colt all behind her. But then again, maybe she hadn’t...

  Creekside Creamery was in the downtown, and as he stopped at each intersection, he wished he could just plow on through. But the ice cream shop finally came up, he turned into the little parking lot that was shared between it and the hardware store and he spotted her car.

  The back door was open, and Jane was bent over, reaching inside.

  “Thank You,” he breathed, in a quiet prayer. She wasn’t gone yet!

  There was a spot next to hers, and he pulled in. He hopped out of his truck and slammed the door, then leaned against it as he waited for her to finish what appeared to be the buckling of car seats. She finally emerged, and her eyes looked red rimmed. She didn’t look up at him until he said, “Jane...”

  And then she raised those teary eyes and blinked at him in surprise.

  “Colt? What are you...” She shook her head. “I was just thinking of you.”

  So those tears had been for him. He was going to say something—explain himself, maybe—but instead he found himself closing that distance between them and covering her lips with his. She leaned into his arms, and she felt perfect there, warm and soft. When he finally pulled back, she blinked up at him.

  “I had to see you,” he said. “Peg mentioned Creekside Creamery and I decided to give it a try. I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Why?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “I miss you already?” He smiled faintly. “I just... Jane, something’s changed. And I don’t know if it will mean anything to you, but I had to tell you.”

  “What?” she whispered, those tear-filled eyes searching his.

  “I was out in the field helping this steer that was stuck in a fence. That’s why I couldn’t come back for breakfast and to see you. Anyway, I was praying that God would empty me out of this love I felt for you, and... It was one of those God moments when I suddenly realized that maybe the love I’ve been trying to shake was God’s intention all along. I am in love with you, and I’ve been so scared that marriage and family would be doomed to failure, but I’ve been looking to myself to be wise enough, strong enough, emotionally intelligent enough...and I’m not! I’ve never seen a functional marriage up close before. But if God has been guiding me to you, then I’ll trust God to guide me the rest of the way, too.”

  “The rest of the way...where?” Jane asked, frowning slightly.

  “I’m not trying to pressure you,” he said quickly. “Oh, Jane. That’s the last thing I want to do. I know you don’t want another husband. I get it. I respect that! I guess, I just felt like you would be the only one to understand this, and...and maybe you’d see what I saw. Maybe you’d be willing to reconsider.”

  His words evaporated, and he looked at her helplessly. And he didn’t want to say goodbye. Even now.

  “I was praying for the same thing,” Jane said softly. “And I’ve come to a realization of my own. There was this old couple in the ice cream shop—the kind that looks so happy, you know? The kind you wish you could be one day. I was married for such a short time, and when Josh died, we were still in the middle of a rocky patch that seemed to start right after the honeymoon. It was so hard. It was so painful, and I’ve never felt so lonely. But if he’d lived...if he’d come home injured instead of dying, I’d have taken care of him and felt blessed to do it!”

  “I know,” Colt said. She’d been a good wife to Josh. There was no doubt about that.

  “But listen.” She put a hand on his arm. “I’ve been so tired, and I figured that marriage was just too much work to interest me again. Except I forgot about the sweet spot. When a couple really love each other, when they get past the patches of hard work, they get to this place where they understand each other, and they’ve stopped accidentally hurting each other. And it’s beautiful. Josh and I never got there. But I think I’d like to try to get there. I would.”

  Colt’s heart hammered in his chest, and he caught her hand in his. “Wait... Jane, are you saying you’d be open to marriage again?”

  Jane smiled, then shrugged faintly. “With a guy I loved so much he’d be worth the work, yes.”

  He slid his other hand behind her neck, tugging her closer. “Do you love me enough? Because I love you heart and soul. And if you’d be open to it, I’d propose right now.”

  “You would? But you said it was just a piece of paper.” A smile curved up those beautiful lips.

  “And that piece of paper wouldn’t hold us together,” he said earnestly. “God would. Jane, marry me. I mean it. I’m in love with you, and I really believe God brought us together. And I don’t want to say goodbye ever again. I want to be all yours, and I want to be a dad to Micha and Suzie. I want to take care of the three of you, and I promise you, Jane, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it isn’t work for you. I’ll listen. I’ll adjust. I’ll take your advice. We can even build a little cottage for a bed and breakfast for you to run. You don’t have to give up anything to be with me—I promise you that. I’ll make it my life’s work to make our relationship as sweet as possible for you every single day. If you’ll just marry me.”

  “A bed and breakfast, too?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “Why not? It would be our start—together. What do you say? Marry me?”

  “Yes!” she said, and tears misted her eyes. He pulled her close again into a kiss, until they were interrupted by the babbling voices of the toddlers in the car.

  “Mama? Mama? Mama?”

  Colt broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

  “Come home with me,” he breathed. “You can stay in Beau’s place upstairs, and I’ll stay in my place downstairs until we can arrange a wedding. I’m pretty sure Peg would lend a hand there, too.”

  “That sounds really nice,” Jane said, nodding quickly.

  “Let’s go home, then,” he said.

  He didn’t want her to leave ever again. And he’d meant what he’d said about making sure their marriage was sweet and soft and tender. He wouldn’t make things hard for her—how could he? He loved this woman with all his heart! He’d talk. He’d open up. He’d listen when she told him about her feelings.

  Marriage didn’t have to be hard on a woman, not when a man was making it his choice every single day to love her well. Jane deserved the best of him, and she’d get it. So would her little girls. He’d never put much stock in marriage before, but suddenly he couldn’t wait to say those vows and get that piece of paper that reflected what his heart was doing this very moment—claiming them as his.

  Epilogue

  On a warm August Saturday, Jane and Colt stood in the minister’s office of Creekside Country Church. Jane’s heart was light in her chest, and she squeezed Colt’s hand, her engagement ring still feeling new against her fingers.

  Peg sa
t in a chair to the side, Micha and Suzie on her lap, and Paul stood behind her, a proud smile on his face. Peg and Paul had finally admitted to dating—well, “courting,” they called it. And Peg had positively glowed when Jane suggested he be included in their tiny wedding.

  Colt’s mom had come for the wedding, too, and she sat next to Peg, holding a camera in her lap.

  The twins were in brand-new church dresses—pink this time, with matching pink bows in their hair. Peg had spent a good fifteen minutes that morning trying to get the bows to stay. She had taken her duties with making his wedding happen very seriously, and there had been very little for Jane to even do. The toddlers each held crackers in their hands to keep them occupied, but her daughters’ wide eyes were fixed on her.

  Jane knew she looked different today in her wedding dress. It was a knee-length summer dress, covered in lace and nipped in at her waist. And her heart was so full that she felt young again. Except this marriage wasn’t a risk—not really.

  Colt stood opposite her, his dark gaze locked on her with such tenderness that it brought a mist of tears to her eyes. He loved her, and she loved him. And this time, Jane would be entering into the sacred bonds of marriage with her eyes wide open.

  It may be hard at times, but they’d get through it. Colt was worth it.

  Besides, he loved her girls, and he was already talking about horseback-riding lessons, new clothes and fixing up a bedroom for them with bunk beds when they were old enough—all decorated in white and pink.

  The minister’s voice brought Jane’s attention back to the moment.

  “Do you, Colt, take Jane to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do.” Colt’s voice was strong, confident.

  “And do you, Jane, take Colt to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do.” Her voice caught in her throat, and Colt gave her fingers a squeeze.

  “Now it’s time to exchange the rings...”

  As Jane pushed the ring onto Colt’s work-roughened finger, she couldn’t get it past his knuckle and he took over, twisting it on. There was no hesitation there. Then he slipped her ring on to her finger and their eyes met in that moment, the import of the moment settling over them. These vows before God would bind them together over the coming years, showing God and their community that they had chosen each other.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The minister grinned. “Kiss your bride, Colt.”

  And Colt did just that. He leaned down and caught Jane’s lips with his as Peg laughed in celebration.

  “We’ll now just sign the marriage license,” the minister said, and Jane looked down at the sparkle of gold on her finger.

  “Let’s make this legal,” Colt said, taking the pen and signing his name where the minister pointed. “Mrs. Hardin. I like that.”

  Jane took the pen next, and she added her own signature, then she turned to Peg, who released the girls and they ran toward her. Jane caught Micha in her arms and Colt scooped up Suzie. They were a family—and even the twins seemed to like this new fact. Jane wasn’t alone anymore, and her heart brimmed with gratefulness.

  “Yum?” Suzie said, pressing a cracker against Colt’s lips, and without missing a beat, he took a bite.

  “Yum,” he said past the cracker, and he sent Jane a grin. “I love you, babe.”

  Her heart was finally secure with this tall cowboy, and she had a feeling that sweet spot in their marriage was already starting.

  “Smile!” Colt’s mom lifted her camera and snapped a picture. “Lean in together now, and smile!”

  Their wedding pictures would be off center and amateur, but the love in their eyes was unmistakable. Their wedding cake was homemade—a sheet cake with white icing and their names written in blue—and Micha would end up planting her hand right in the center of it. Jane’s wedding ring was a simple band of gold, but it would stay on her finger for the next fifty years.

  And that piece of paper that bound them together as husband and wife would be tucked away in the wedding album. Every few years, Colt would pull it out and smooth his hand over the creases.

  “Don’t lose that,” Jane would remonstrate. “It’s a legal document.”

  But there would be a tender look in Colt’s eye when he put it away again. Because it turned out that it wasn’t just a piece of paper, after all. It was a piece of his heart, legally recognized by the state and the country and anyone else who cared to question it. And it was a piece of Jane’s heart, too.

  Marriage, Jane would discover, wasn’t so hard, after all.

  * * *

  If you liked this story, pick up the first book

  in the Montana Twins miniseries

  by Patricia Johns:

  Her Cowboy’s Twin Blessings

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Rancher’s Redemption by Myra Johnson.

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  Dear Reader,

  Is marriage only a piece of paper? A lot of people argue that, especially if they’ve been hurt. But I believe that marriage is a whole lot more than just a legal arrangement. There’s something about those vows... Before you get married, you love each other deeply and you’d lay down your life for that other person. But after the vows, it’s like a circle closes. It isn’t only about emotion, but something deeper. Some people believe that marriage is a sacrament, and I understand that! Marriage is challenging. It’s beautiful. It’s holy. It deepens and develops us.

  In this book, I wanted to look at marriage—not just the wedding day—and what it means to me. I hope you enjoy this story, and if you’d like to connect with me, you can find me online at PatriciaJohnsRomance.com. I’m also on Facebook and Twitter.

  Patricia

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  The Rancher’s Redemption

  by Myra Johnson

  Chapter One

  A sunny azure sky overhead, contented cattle grazing beside a tree-shaded pond, field upon field of bluebonnets stretching toward the horizon—in all his thirty-six years, Kent Ritter had yet to see anything prettier than an April day in the Texas Hill Country.

  Until he rode out to round up a couple of strays and came upon a waiflike stranger sitting cross-legged beneath an oak tree.

  His oak tree. On his land.

  Facing the opposite direction, the girl didn’t seem aware of Kent’s approach. An assortment of grasses and twigs lay beside her on a multicolored quilt. She bent low over something
in her lap, chin-length auburn curls falling toward her face and her fingers flying.

  Not of a mind to announce his presence until he had a better idea of what she was up to, Kent pulled on his cutting horse’s reins with a whispered “Whoa, Jasmine.”

  He guessed he wasn’t as quiet as he’d thought, because his visitor’s head shot up and she turned with a startled gasp. As she scrambled to her feet, whatever she’d been working on fell to the quilt. Panic filled her eyes, but her stance—fists clenched at her sides, feet apart as if preparing for combat—sent a different message: don’t mess with me!

  Kent’s stomach fell straight to his boot heels. Clearly, this fully grown woman wasn’t the truant teenager he’d assumed her to be. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes suggested late twenties or early thirties—much closer to Kent’s age than he suddenly felt comfortable with, since his initial curious concern now vied with an undeniable and completely inappropriate attraction. Yep, more than likely, this woman’s appearance had something to do with the unsettling letter he’d received two days ago, the one he’d been doing his dead level best to ignore.

  He clenched his jaw. “If you’re from the Juniper Bluff Historical Society, you can leave right now. This is still private property.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Looking both startled and confused, the woman dropped to her knees and began gathering her things into the center of the quilt. “I was just out exploring, and I don’t know anything about the historical society. I’m actually new in town and—” Her hands shook so hard that she kept dropping everything.

  First he’d jumped to conclusions, and now he’d scared the poor lady half to death. “Hey, it’s okay.” Afraid she’d have a heart attack, Kent dismounted and strode over to help. “Ma’am, it’s okay, really.”

  As he drew closer, he saw what she’d been making—a basket woven from twigs and dry pasture grass. He picked it up and studied the intricate design. Blades of grass had been twisted and shaped to resemble miniature bluebonnets and woven into the outside of the basket. Between two of the flowers, a thinner, more pliable twig formed the letter A.