by Erin Marsh
“Your turn,” she said, her voice just as smoky as the deep-brown accents in her irises.
He thrust as she moved downward. Like her, he turned himself over to pleasure, withholding nothing. His groans mixed with hers. He stopped thinking. Hell, he might have even stopped breathing. But he didn’t stop feeling. He allowed the sensations to roll through him unchecked, leaving nothing of himself protected. He held her gaze for as long as he could. When he came, his eyes shut, and his body trembled from the force of it. She collapsed on top of him, pressing a kiss against his jugular.
They lay there, both gasping, their bodies slick with sweat. He’d never felt so drained and energized at the same time.
“That…that was incredible,” she whispered against his ear.
“No,” he said hoarsely as he traced the delicate ridge of her spine. “We’re incredible. Together.”
She wiggled up his body to rest her head on his shoulder. He had no idea where she’d found the energy to even move that much. He listened as her hard, short breaths slowly softened into shallow little snores. Smiling at the sound, he lay still in the darkness. Sleep beckoned, but he wanted to enjoy the peace flooding through him just a little more. There’d be other nights like this. Years of contentment stretched before them like untouched prairie lands. But tonight…tonight was special. Because it marked the beginning of something he’d looked for his entire life—belonging.
Epilogue
“So Bowie’s planning to introduce some female wolves soon?” Buck Montgomery asked as Clay stood with him, Lacey, her mother, and Zach at the edge of the wolf exhibit the teenager had helped build. The kid hadn’t even tried to hide his enthusiasm as he’d shown Buck and Peggy Montgomery the zoo. Over the past few months, the two families had been spending more and more time together. Although Zach sometimes pretended the get-togethers annoyed him, Clay could tell his nephew was secretly pleased to have so many adults interested in him. The entire staff at the Prairie Dog Café had practically adopted him. He hadn’t had to pay for a single lunch the entire summer.
The townsfolk had become surprisingly accustomed to seeing the Stevens boys at the restaurant. Ever since word had spread about Clay stepping in front of a loaded rifle to protect Lacey and a wolf, he’d lost his greenhorn status. The Prairie Dog Café proudly advertised that its burgers were made with Valhalla Beef, and June Winters had started offering cured cuts at her tea shop. She’d also started selling the jerky on her website in addition to her jams, and Clay and she were in discussion with Rocky Ridge National Park to stock some at its gift shop.
“Yeah,” Zach said in answer to Buck’s question about Perseus and Theseus. “Bowie says he wants to create a pack here at the zoo.”
“He received grant money to set up a breeding program,” Lacey said. “He’s going to work in conjunction with the wolf rescue center and Rocky Ridge.”
“Ah, just what we need. More lobos.” Clay’s sardonic response earned him a poke in the ribs from Lacey. They’d reached a détente about the canines. Clay had invested in some fladry fences to use next spring. With Lacey’s input, he’d bought a couple of Karakachan dogs already trained as livestock guardians. Rick had started assigning men to sleep with the herd at night. Clay had put himself in the rotation, and Lacey had joined him under the stars a couple of times. Rick was also teaching them all to use the low-stress herding techniques he’d mentioned during his interview. Clay planned on using some of the funds from his increased beef sales to buy motion-activated alarms to scare off the wolves too.
“It’s hard to think of Theseus and Perseus being founders of a new pack,” Zach said. “They still act like giant puppies.”
As if to prove Zach’s point, Theseus began to howl, and his brother threw back his head to join him. They’d grown comfortable with the exhibit. Bowie and Zach had added a lot of trees for shade and a number of boulders for entertainment. Since the zoo owned acres of undeveloped land and Bowie had received more grant money, they’d been able to make a large enclosure with plenty of room for additional wolves. Theseus was already showing signs of leadership, with Perseus eager to follow his brother’s lead. Although the wolves were still juveniles, Bowie and Lou wanted to introduce the females when the boys were still young to avoid conflict. They hoped it would increase the chances of the animals forming strong familial bonds. A wolf conservation center back East had a few females that weren’t suitable candidates for release and that would add good genetic diversity.
Suddenly, Theseus’s howl turned into more of a bay. His ears flattened as he crouched low. His brother followed suit as the two predators began a coordinated stalk toward a large log. Just as they reached the felled tree, a black-and-white head popped into view.
“Scamp,” Zach said, his voice a mixture of frustration, worry, and a little admiration.
“Is that the baby honey badger?” Peggy Montgomery asked.
“Not exactly a baby,” Lacey said. “He’s bigger than his mom now. He hasn’t quite reached his dad’s size, but we think he’ll eventually overtake Fluffy.”
“What in tarnation is he doing in there?” her grandfather asked. Both wolves took a swipe at Scamp, but the little mustelid was too fast. He darted away, barely avoiding the scrape of Theseus’s claw.
“He likes to live dangerously.” Zach frowned as he watched the chase. When the wolves got too close to the honey badger, the teenager banged on the fence to distract the lobos. Clay swore the little weasel shot Zach a dirty look for interfering.
“Scamp reminds me of someone I used to know,” Clay said.
“Har har,” his nephew said dryly, his gaze never leaving the mustelid’s darting form. “He’s been playing with the wolves since they were little, but I always worry.”
Scamp paused by the fence. He made a chittering sound, causing Clay to laugh. “Is he mocking the two wolves?”
“Apparently so,” Zach said crossly.
Lacey laid her hand on the teen’s shoulder. “They do this all the time, Zach. I don’t think any of them would hurt the other. Scamp’s father, Fluffy, and Frida the grizzly have played together for years. It’s not ideal, but at least it gives the animals exercise and a little excitement.”
Both wolves dive-bombed Scamp, but once again, he was quicker. With a flick of his tail, he slipped under a small hole in the fencing and darted onto the path. He paused a moment to scold them before disappearing through a bush.
“Yep. He definitely reminds me of someone I used to know,” Clay said.
Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “I was never that bad.”
Clay shook his head. “Oh no. You were worse.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t kick me out.”
“We’re a pack.” Clay slung his arm over Zach’s shoulders. “We stick together.”
* * *
“That was nice,” Lacey said as she buckled her seat belt. “I enjoyed hanging out at the zoo together. I still don’t know why we needed to do it so early in the morning though.”
She swore Clay looked a little nervous as he shrugged. “I wanted to take a hike with you today. You keep saying you want to check on the wolves now that all the lobos captured by the Forresters have been released back into the park.”
Lacey nodded. Although she’d returned to her job and her symptoms had begun to fade, her brain still wasn’t a hundred percent healed. Long walks, especially in the sun, could make her head swim. She’d been stuck with visitor-center duty all summer. Luckily, Clay would take her for short hikes on her days off. They’d started slowly, going a little farther and moving a little faster each time. At his insistence, she’d even talked with her therapist about how to properly push herself without causing a setback.
“Zach’s surprisingly pumped about spending the day with my grandfather at my uncle’s ranch,” Lacey said. “I couldn’t believe he talked so much during the car ride to
the zoo.”
“Each week that passes, he’s relaxing more and more,” Clay said. “He’s a good kid.”
“And you’re a good father figure,” Lacey said.
“Thanks,” Clay said. “Your family has done a lot for him too. He feels part of something. We both do.”
“My grandfather’s taken a special shine to him. From the stories Stanley tells about their days on the rodeo circuit, Grandpa was more than a little wild before he met Grandma. I think he sees a part of himself in Zach.”
“Heaven help us all,” Clay groaned as he pulled his truck into the trailhead’s parking lot.
“They’re good for each other,” Lacey said with a smile as she climbed out of the cab. She hoisted her knapsack.
“Zach is more interested in the ranch since this summer’s restoration work on the ciénegas,” Clay said. “The group from your alma mater helped move it along.”
“Dr. Juarez was really impressed,” Lacey said.
Clay nodded. “She emailed me yesterday about setting something up for next summer. I meant to talk to you about it last night, but it slipped my mind.”
Lacey smiled wickedly. It had been Clay’s turn to watch the herd, and she’d joined him. Suffice it to say, she found “sleeping” under the stars an inspirational aphrodisiac.
“When are you on night duty again?” Lacey asked.
She watched as Clay tried to smother a smile and feign nonchalance as they started to hike along the trail. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check with Rick. Is there any reason you’re asking?”
“Oh, I think you know my reasons,” she said casually. “There’s just something about the night air and me.”
“I’d say,” he told her with a smile.
She sobered. “It’s great how much your ranch hands respect you now.”
Clay nodded. “I thought they’d grumble at the night watch, but Rick’s a good foreman.”
They fell into silence as they wound through the landscape. Lacey loved these moments with Clay. Even in the quiet, she felt a hum of connection between them. She’d always enjoyed the outdoors, but sharing it with him meant so much more. He was an observer like her, his eyes catching things other people overlooked. He embraced this land, this place, just as much as she did.
When they reached the wolves, Lacey stifled her gasp of delight. The recovered males lounged in the sun with the rest of the pack as the young pups tussled each other. In this heat, the adults wouldn’t begin the hunt until dusk.
“I can’t believe we’re here, together, watching this,” Lacey breathed, not taking her eyes off the majestic animals. Back when they’d been arguing at town hall meetings, she never would’ve imagined that one day, they’d hike to see the wolves together…or that she’d want him by her side. But he’d become just as critical as the canines in front of her.
She heard a rustle and turned to see Clay on one knee in the red dirt. It didn’t escape her notice that he’d purposely avoided disturbing the cryptobiotic crust growing on the soil. In his hands, he held an open ring box, the diamond glinting in the sun. The setting was old, and she knew at once he’d used a Frasier heirloom.
“Lacey, my whole life, I’ve yearned to belong,” Clay said. “Then I fell in love with my grandfather’s ranch. I wanted to live where my ancestors did. To be connected to something. But it never felt real until the night after our confrontation with the Forresters. I finally found my home. With you. In my arms. Like I told Zach earlier, we’re a pack. You. Me. Him. Your mom and grandpa. There’s nothing I want more than to make it official. Will you marry me?”
She couldn’t speak. Tears sprang into her eyes as she nodded fervently. Laughing and crying, she sank to the dirt beside him and flung her arms around him. Their lips tangled together. They broke apart to stare at each other, their eyes bright. He chuckled then, low and deep. The sound curled inside her belly, filling her with joy. Their mouths met again, and in their kiss, she could taste the promise of their future.
Author’s Note and Acknowledgments
Lacey’s concussion is partially based on my own experiences with mild traumatic brain injury. In 2011, I bumped my head on a heavy chandelier. As newlyweds in our first home, my husband and I had yet to put a table under it, and I walked right into it. It took me nine months to realize the symptoms that I was feeling (headaches, light-headedness, nausea, visual issues, light sensitivity, etc.) were related to what I thought had been a minor event. Due to the wonderful care I received through the UPMC Concussion Clinic and PAVC Vision Therapy, I fully recovered after another nine months.
Fast-forward to Christmas 2018 when my overenthusiastic, bouncing toddler cracked her head against my nose. Suddenly, in the middle of writing a book about a heroine with a concussion, I once again found myself battling one of my own. This time, I received excellent care through the Allegheny Health Network, UPMC, and PAVC Vision Therapy.
I have had a wonderful support system during both my recovery periods. My husband has twice—without any complaint—taken over additional household responsibilities, allowing me time to both heal and meet work deadlines. My mother has also been a huge help, making meals and helping watch my daughter. Their assistance enabled me to write and complete this book while dealing with the aftereffects of a brain injury. Writing about a concussion while suffering from one proved difficult at times. My friend and fellow writer Sarah Morgenthaler, who has also dealt with a concussion, kindly volunteered to read through my manuscript. A former barrel racer, she provided insight on what steps Clay could take to make horseback riding easier for Lacey. (If I included any inaccuracies in my description of riding with a concussion, they are solely my own.)
I also want to thank my friend Laura McVay for helping a thoroughly corporate attorney better understand the mechanics of the criminal justice system. Ms. McVay has worked both as a prosecutor and as a public defender, and I am profoundly grateful for her and the other lawyers who are instrumental in making our court system function as it was intended. Public defenders provide an important service to our country, often with low pay and little recognition. They are also statistically more at risk than prosecutors for being a victim of a violent crime in connection with their job.
Any mistakes that I made in regard to Zach’s arrest, charges, and experiences with the diversion program are solely my own. As alluded to by defense attorney Marisol Lopez, many youths, especially those of color, do not get the opportunity to avoid juvenile detention through a diversion program. It is also less common in the federal court system than at the state level.
Once again, I would like to thank my editor, Deb Werksman, and the entire team at the Casablanca imprint for helping me bring my stories to life. Ms. Werksman’s advice pushes me to make sure the characters—both human and animal—are vibrant and real to the reader. Using the right name for a juvenile animal (i.e., kit for honey badger, cub for bear, pup for wolf) can get confusing, but the copy editors make sure I keep it all straight. The art department provides beautiful covers, while the marketing department ensures that the books reach readers’ hands.
I want to express my gratitude for my readers. Thank you so much for taking a chance on a beginning author by reading my books, leaving reviews, recommending to a friend, interacting with me on social media, or otherwise supporting my work. I very much enjoy hearing from all of you, and you can find me on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
Can’t get enough of Colorado cowboys?
Don’t miss the FIRST in a lively and poignant new series from USA Today bestselling author Jennie Marts, set in the glorious mountains of Creedence, Colorado.
The Creedence Horse Rescue series takes us deep into the lives of compassionate but practical cowboys, feisty, determined women, and the gentle, beautiful horses that need their help.
Book 1 A Cowboy State of Mind
Available June 2020 from Sourcebooks Casablanca
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Chapter 1
The still-nameless dog jumped into the cab as Zane Taylor opened the door of his pickup, and he absently patted its head and rubbed behind its ears. The dog leaned into him and got that blissed-out look on its face, and Zane’s tension eased a little as it always did when he interacted with an animal. The late spring sun warmed Zane’s back, and as soon as he turned his attention away from the dog, he felt the weight of the decision he bore on his shoulders. His former boss, Maggie, had been nagging him to come back to his old job on her Montana ranch. She’d taken in a herd of wild stallions, and she needed him. He’d gotten by so far with vague replies, but it was time to give her an answer. Time to get back on the road and out of Creedence. Except the reason he was so fired up to leave was also the reason he wasn’t ready to walk away.
He shrugged the soreness from his shoulders. He’d had a good morning with Rebel, the headstrong black stallion he’d been working with for weeks now. Maybe the horse could feel the warmth in the air as well. Although it was Colorado, so they could still get a snowstorm or two before spring reluctantly slid into summer.
“Nice job today, horse whisperer,” Logan Rivers, his current boss, and friend, hollered from the corral where he was putting another horse through the paces.
Zane waved a hand in his direction, ignoring the comment, as he turned the engine over and pulled the door shut. He wasn’t fond of the nickname, even though Logan had been using it since they were in high school and working summers at Logan’s family’s ranch.
Zane could admit grudgingly that he did have a gift with horses, especially the dangerous or wild ones, somehow connecting with the animals better than he ever did with people.
The black-and-white border collie mix rested her head on Zane’s leg, and he stroked her neck as he drove toward Creedence, where no one was a stranger and everyone knew not just your business, but your cousin’s as well.