She slid the window open and peered out. Up ahead, where the track curved, a horse and rider sat on the tracks.
She pulled back into the train car.
“A fake hold-up, huh?” She grinned up at Lester who headed her way. “Nice touch.”
She poked her head back out the window before he responded, not wanting to miss a moment.
The horse pranced on the tracks, and Marlee smiled at the picture. A high-strung horse. A foolhardy bandit. Any minute now, and the town Marshal would probably be along with his tin star and a Deputy, and there would be a fake shoot out.
The rider pulled off his hat and waved it in the air, shouting something.
Her heart thudded.
That rider was awfully familiar.
She gripped the edge of the window. “It can’t be,” she whispered. She’d barely picked her hopes up and dusted them off. She wasn’t ready to put them back in the saddle again.
“He’s askin’ for you, Miss,” Lester said.
She went numb, staring.
Her cowboy. Sitting in the middle of the tracks, trying to calm a nervous Calamity.
She bumped her head when she pulled it back in, but she didn’t care. Slinging her knife roll across her back, she hurried down the aisle to the door.
When it opened, Jett was there to meet her. Calamity breathed hard and tossed her head. Jett’s face was flushed, and his eyes intense.
If he hadn’t just ridden all the way across rough country to stop a train, she’d have guessed he was mad.
Her trembling hands fluttered to her mouth, but she couldn’t even squeak out a single word.
“Somebody told me once that Marlee Donovan is not a quitter,” he said, leaning forward and peering at her.
Marlee blinked, her throat clogged with emotion.
Calamity shifted under him, and he bent automatically, his hand smoothing the mare’s neck.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe,” he said.
She rolled tear-filled eyes. “Yeah.” She smiled. “You already told me.”
Anxiety squeezed crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
She melted a little more every time he looked at her.
“I’ve been thinking. I can hire you, but only if you promise to let me teach you to ride and how to work cattle. If we get enough good weather we might have you ready for the spring drive. But I can’t pay you the full salary at first because I’ll have to hire an extra cowhand until we can get you up to speed. It’s the best I can offer, but it’s fair.” For a man who didn’t talk much, he looked like he was spending every single word he’d ever earned.
“Why would you do that? Why hire two people for one position?”
She knew why. But she needed to hear it anyway.
And this time it wasn’t about pride. This time it was about what her heart needed. This time it was about looking before she leapt.
Because that’s exactly what she wanted to do right now: leap from the stairs of the train right into his arms, if he’d let her.
And if Calamity didn’t throw them both.
“Well, I got to thinking and I realized that it’s the right thing for the ranch.” He took his hat off, and swiped his brow with his sleeve before settling his hat back on.
Warmth spread through her chest. Tough-as-leather Jett Maddox was nervous. Nervous and talking like his life depended on it.
“Once that fancy resort opens up, tourists might want to go on a short trail ride. And then have an authentic chuck wagon dinner. Now that you’ve learned the ropes, you’re the best Dutch oven cook around.”
“Don’t forget her famous Mad Marlee’s Peach Cobbler,” Lester whispered loudly. “It’s all Crazy Hoss has been talking about.”
The warmth in her chest tingled in little bursts that moved out to her fingertips. Marlee swallowed a smile. “So you want me for my cobbler?”
Jett’s brows lowered, and his eyes darkened. “Do I have to spell it out?”
She grinned. It wouldn’t hurt to let him muddle through the mess he was making of this.
That’s what life was about. Making messes and figuring out what to do with them.
And this mess was starting to feel as thrilling as she’d hoped it would be.
Crazy Hoss broke through the trees then, and behind him came the cinnamon mare. “Meet Cobbler,” he said when they’d come to a stop.
Marlee grinned at Jett. “You came prepared, cowboy,” she teased.
Jett went beet red and glanced down where his hands rested on the saddle horn. When he looked back up at her, it was with a determined set in his jaw.
He dismounted, handed his reins to Crazy Hoss, and then in one long leap, he was on the stair with her.
Marlee sucked in a breath, stuck in his dark eyes.
So dark, they were like the dark chocolate mugs he’d poured for her. Rich and deep and almost black, and with a hint of cayenne—a heat that started at the back of her throat and spread all the way down to her toes in their dusty boots. If she looked closer, she knew she would see every flicker of firelight they’d shared, and even more in their future.
He took his hat off then, and put both arms loosely around her neck, pulling her closer, and holding his hat to shield them from the tourists on the train.
“I like you,” he whispered. “A lot.”
He dipped his head. And then stopped short of brushing her lips with his.
She took a quick breath and tightened her grip on the knife roll strap.
“I was thinking,” he said in a low voice, “If you stick around, I might grow on you, too.”
“You ain’t a wart, boy.” Crazy Hoss’ voice floated toward them. ““Growin’ don’t cut it. You gotta tell her what you’re good for.”
Jett ignored him.
And to Marlee’s joy, he didn’t use any words.
He closed his arms around her, dug his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. Three light fiery kisses that tingled like she’d hoped, and then a fourth kiss that deepened and flowed through her—a rich and chocolaty spice far better than any dessert she’d ever had.
Jett stirred up her hopes, planted them directly in the saddle, and had them galloping again, racing through every dream she’d imagined and more.
When he pulled away, cheers and whistles broke out.
“Actions speak louder than words,” she whispered.
He pulled her to his chest. “Something like that,” he grunted and then let go.
He vaulted into the saddle and then shimmied Calamity close to the train. He reached out for Marlee, but she hesitated.
“Don’t worry about your luggage,” Lester piped up. “I’’ll bring it on the return journey tonight.” He swiped at watery blue eyes with a red handkerchief.
“Thank you.” Marlee laughed and hugged him before she turned to grab Jett’s arm.
Jett swung her up behind him.
Closing her arms around him, she breathed in his scent. The smell of open skies and rolling prairie.
“You know we did fetch her a horse to ride.” Crazy Hoss chuckled behind them as they took off toward Dead Man’s Canyon Road.
“In a minute,” Jett said.
When they’d gotten a few paces from the tracks, the train whistled and pulled away, steam churning all around.
On the road, Jett helped her down, and brought Mad Cobbler over. He started to take her knife roll, but Marlee clenched her grip and hung on tight.
“It’s only for the ride.” He chuckled.
Reluctantly, she let go and watched as he stowed them away in a saddle bag.
“Worried we’ll stumble into rustlers on the way home?” He teased, dimple flashing.
She would have walloped him good if he hadn’t just kissed all the vinegar right out of her. But instead, she smiled. “I wouldn’t mind saving your life again if a kiss is my reward.”
He threw his head back and laughed. The deep rich warmth of it rolled over her, as delightful as pulling a fresh-baked appl
e pie out of the oven.
He was still smiling when he kissed her again and then settled her into the saddle.
The three of them rode down Dead Man’s Canyon Road and around the bend. At the crest of a ridge, Marlee slowed her horse.
Before her, the Camas Prairie rolled under a fiery sunset, all the way to Looking Glass Lake.
Jett sidled Calamity up close and reached for her hand.
Marlee sighed. “You know…” She tipped her head and peered at him from the corner of her eye. “I was starting to think you were all hat and no cattle when it came to romance,” she said.
Jett grinned and squeezed her hand.
Crazy Hoss scooted his Paint horse up next to Jett and leaned across his saddle horn, grinning. “Nope,” he said. “Jett’s the real deal, all right. He’s as loco as the rest of us flea-bitten varmints.”
Marlee laughed.
By now, the sun simmered low on the horizon. Orange and purple streaks dressed the air in splendor.
Just the kind of sunset a real cowgirl could ride into.
GET JETT’S LETTER AND MARLEE’S WEDDING FOR FREE
Curious about the letter Jett wrote for Marlee? It's all here!
Plus, Marlee celebrates her wedding in this secret deleted scene.
Marlee's wedding is so romantic, Fern Aimstock and Crazy Hoss are already working on another matchmaking scheme.
Who is their target, and who else will find love in Looking Glass Lake?
CLICK THE LINK AND CLAIM YOUR FREE SCENE:
http://rebeccanightsong.com/marlees-wedding/
THANK YOU FOR READING!
Rebecca Nightsong
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rebecca Nightsong grew up under the wide-open skies of Idaho, where she spent long days in fluffy petticoats and lace, chasing geese and riding goats (since sadly, she had no horses).
As a bossy sister in a large family of all boys, she may or may not be guilty of making her three-year old brother lie down on a hard strip of lumber in the middle of the pasture to take a pretend nap when playing “pioneer families.”
Today, Rebecca lives with her husband, who is a constant source of inspiration. She spends her time in her quirky fictional world of Looking Glass Lake, bossing around characters who frequently boss back.
You can connect with Rebecca at: www.rebeccanightsong.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my Mama, for always making me sit on the kitchen stool to read my English papers aloud and for giving me my first feedback. People always say family won’t give honest criticism of writing, but I know that’s not true with you.
Thanks, Dad, for letting me talk your ear off about anything at anytime. I love our talks.
Thank you to Jana Hillsberry, for listening to early scenes and laughing in all the right spots. Your laugh is inspiring!
Thank you to Kayde and Addy, for loving my stories. No, I don’t have the bus-driver beauty-queen story done yet, because I’m working on the stow-away story. ;)
Thank you to Steve, Dan, Andrew and Jesse Hillsberry, and to Chris Harada, for challenging me and being the kind of brothers I have to work to keep up with...and for letting me practice my storytelling skills on you.
Thank you to Rachel Ault at for the talented graphics and artwork. We’re a dream team because it’s so much fun to dream up stuff together. And as a friend, you make life a little more crazy and a little more sane all at once.
Thank you to Heather Woodhaven, author extrodinaire and faithful friend. You are so encouraging and your advice is always spot-on. Getting a beta-read from you is like getting ready for prom together…I know you’ll always grab me and slap on a pair of dangly earrings if I need them, and you’d never let me go outside with a curler stuck in my hair!
Thank you to my writing pals in Idaho: Becky Avella, Hilarey Johnson, Kristine McCord, Lisa Phillips, Angela Ruth Strong and Heather Woodhaven. Girls, we’ve got something special, and I can’t wait to get back to Idaho to jump back into brainstorming sessions and prayer together and other writerly fun.
Thank you to my writing pals in Virginia: C.j. Chase, Cynthia Howerter, Luana Hugel, Carrie Fancett-Pagels, Anne Payne and Dina Sleiman. You were the best part about being away from home for so long.
Thank you to Larry Hayhurst for being a great mentor and inspiration, and being willing to connect me with people for research. I never went wrong listening to your advice, and I always felt stronger knowing you were in my corner.
Thank you to Ardie Noyes, for your encouragement. I keep my “that was easy” button dusted off and I punch it after each chapter!
Thank you to Richard Garner at Fish Tail Bar G ranch in Virginia. You gave me a true cowboy’s welcome, made me feel at home, and were generous with your time and knowledge. I can’t wait to write more about mustangs in future books. (P.S. Please note: No horses were given treats in the making of this book!)
Thank you to Al Blank and Jane Newby. You gave freedom and encouragement…what every girl needs, sometimes more than anything else.
Thank you to David Hillsberry, for giving me the “be your own boss” bug.
Thank you to Kristin Bailey, Hannah Eaton, and Camille Hammond, for being the kind of friends I’ll never grow out of, no matter how long we’ve known each other or how far away we live from one another…I wish we could all live in Looking Glass Lake next door to each other.
Thank you to Vincent Muli Wa Kituku, for treating me like a real writer before I believed it myself.
Thank you to Judy Tinney, for sharing your heart and that sunny corner in your office in Denver.
Thank you to Pat Shaw, who spurred me to just quit my job and write.
And thank you to Jesus. My best friend and the one who has blessed me with such richness in friends and family. Every good and perfect gift comes from You.
Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel Page 14