Jake (A Wyoming Sky Novel)

by R. C. Ryan

  Against her lips he muttered, “And when the snows come, and the ranch settles down into the quiet of winter, we’re going to slip away to a sunny spot somewhere and lie on the beach like a couple of teenage lovers.”

  “It’s a date. I like the way you think.” She laughed. “But I’m betting we’ll miss the ranch and the family so much, we’ll cut our honeymoon short just to be with all of them.”

  “You’re probably right. But we won’t let them know.”

  They stood together, laughing, kissing, then laughing again.

  Love, it seemed, was contagious, and the entire Conway family had been infected.

  “Oh, Phoebe.” Cole looked into her eyes. “We can finally be together. Really together.”

  Together. She’d waited a lifetime to heard that word. A word so sweet, it brought tears to her eyes.

  Epilogue

  Summer had turned the lush meadows to fields of tall wavy grasses. The cattle were fat and healthy, feasting on the rich grass of the high country. The days were long and hot, the nights perfumed with the fragrance of fields of wildflowers.

  Meg and Jake loved the nights best of all. After the back-breaking chores and long, noisy dinners with the Conway clan, they would hurry back to Meg’s ranch to tuck Cory into bed and then, while the world was hushed and cloaked in darkness, they would lie together, caught up in the wonder of their newly discovered love.

  That love touched everyone who came near them, and had everyone’s heart beating faster because of it. There were more secret smiles. More whispered words of endearment, not only by the soon-to-wed couple, but by Jake’s brothers and their wives, as well. Even Big Jim and Cole seemed more at ease, while Phoebe and Ela delighted in the newest additions to their world. The presence of Cory reminded them of the boys they’d helped raise, and gave them glimpses of the man he would become.

  Now that Cory’s future was no longer in question, the little boy blossomed under all this new attention. The knowledge that he was now part of a big, affectionate family calmed his fears and had him playing and laughing like any seven-year-old boy.

  Before their wedding day dawned, Meg had insisted that Jake spend the night at his place, leaving her alone with Cory. Brother and sister had sat up late, talking about the father they’d shared, and the memories Cory had of his pretty, young mother. Meg was determined to help him keep his memories alive.

  “Judge Bolton was one of the few folks who knew your mother, Cory. And he told me that she’d confided in him that she’d finally found a man who treated her with love and respect. And despite their age difference, our dad loved her, too. He said he’d found his ‘forever’ wife.”

  “Is that what you’re going to be, Meg? Jake’s forever wife?”

  She nodded. “That’s the plan.”

  “Good.” He yawned loudly, before she followed him up the stairs and tucked him in for the night. “’Cause I really want to be like Jake when I grow up.”

  She kissed him and felt a quick tug at her heart.

  After Meg loaded their wedding clothes in her new truck, she walked out to the corral, where Cory was riding Shadow bareback.

  “Time to go, Cory.”

  The boy slid from the pony’s back and carefully latched the gate before racing ahead to the truck. When it came to going to the Conway ranch, Cory needed no coaxing.

  As Jake had taught him, he held the door until Meg was settled in the driver’s side, then he rounded the cab and climbed in before fastening his seat belt.

  She turned on the ignition and caught Cory watching her.

  At her arched brow he asked, “You ready?”

  Her smile was radiant. “I can’t wait.”

  His smile matched hers. “Me, either.”

  The Conway kitchen smelled of slow-cooking roast beef and biscuits. There was a hint of cinnamon and spice in the air. Phoebe was busy putting the finishing touches on the special wedding cake she had baked. Atop the chocolate cake, mounded with whipped cream frosting, she had added a bride dressed in a prim jacket and skirt and holding an attaché case as a tribute to the fact that Meg had opened a small law practice in town. The groom atop the cake wore denims and was carrying a calf slung over his shoulders. Between them was a small boy looking up at them and smiling.

  The men had taken themselves off to the hilltop, anxious to leave the serious business of getting ready to the women of the house.

  Meg was upstairs with Cheyenne and Sierra. In these past few weeks the three young women had become closer than sisters.

  At the moment the three were dressed in robes. Meg’s was a short silk kimono that fell to her knees. Cheyenne wore a cotton wrap, while Sierra wore a long terry robe that could have easily fit someone twice her size. On her, it managed to look chic.

  Meg was seated in front of a dressing table. Cheyenne stood behind her, hairbrush in hand. Sierra stood to one side, adjusting the focus of her camera.

  “How about a manicure after this?” Cheyenne asked.

  “I’ll only ruin it when I muck stalls tomorrow.”

  “Am I hearing right?” Sierra lowered her camera. “Meg, you’ve already morphed from designer-clad city girl to practical rancher.”

  “I guess all that contact with Jake rubbed off on me.”

  The three laughed as Cheyenne unzipped the plastic cover shielding Meg’s gown. “Oh. Look at this. Where did you find it?”

  Meg shed her kimono and began slipping into the gown. “In the attic of my fath—of my ranch house,” she corrected. “It was the gown my mother wore when she married my father. I thought it would make them both happy to see me wearing it today.”

  “So you’ve forgiven them for the past?” Cheyenne asked.

  “Like Jake said, it’s all in the past. I’d rather concentrate on the future.”

  Both Cheyenne and Sierra sighed as Meg finished dressing and turned for their approval.

  The old-fashioned gown had a sweetheart neckline, and fell in a fluid column of white silk to her ankles. She wore strappy sandals on her feet. At her throat and ears were her mother’s pearls.

  “Oh, Meg, you look stunning,” Cheyenne breathed.

  “Good. I think I’d like to stun Jake.”

  “You don’t need a gown for that,” Sierra said with a laugh, as she slipped into the pretty pink dress she’d chosen to wear. “The minute that man saw you, he fell. Hard.”

  Meg arched a brow. “You knew?”

  Sierra laughed. “We all knew it.”

  “All except Jake, of course.” Cheyenne zipped the pale lemon dress Meg had helped her choose for the ceremony. “Men are always the last to know.”

  Meg paused to admire their dresses and accessories. Then she pulled two small jeweler’s boxes from her purse and handed them to Sierra and Cheyenne.

  Cheyenne studied the box. “What’s this?”

  “Open it and find out.” Meg watched as they tore open the boxes and gaped at the simple platinum bracelets, each bearing a single jeweled charm. “Cheyenne, yours is a wolf. For obvious reasons,” Meg said, as she fastened the bracelet to Cheyenne’s wrist. “And Sierra, there was never any doubt that yours would be a camera.”

  The two young women turned their wrists this way and that, watching as the charms glinted in the sunlight.

  “I love it,” Cheyenne whispered, as she hugged Meg.

  “I’m never taking it off,” Sierra said, wrapping her arms around Meg’s neck.

  “I wanted something special, to let you know how grateful I am for having the two of you in my life. I feel so lucky to have you as sisters and friends.”

  “We’re the lucky ones.” Cheyenne linked her arms with Meg and Sierra. “Let’s go downstairs and let Phoebe and Ela see the beautiful bride.”

  As they started out of the room, Meg paused to pick up a mesh bag.

  “More gifts?” Sierra asked.

  She merely nodded and gave them both a mysterious smile.

  Big Jim stood beside Clementine’s headstone, wa
tching as the others began arriving.

  Cole, carrying a box of cigars, climbed the hill with Quinn, who was holding a bottle of Irish whiskey, and Josh, who was juggling a tray with five crystal glasses.

  Behind them, Jake, looking handsome in his jeans and denim jacket, had an arm around the shoulders of Cory, who sported a fresh haircut and a starched white shirt tucked neatly into his jeans.

  Big Jim chuckled. “I see Ela had her way, boyo. She said she was trimming that hair and getting you into a white shirt for your sister’s wedding day.”

  Cory merely smiled, something he’d been doing for days now.

  Cole cleared his throat. His voice was solemn. “We stand here on sacred ground, to celebrate a very special occasion.”

  He watched while Josh filled the glasses with whiskey and handed them around.

  “I’ll begin,” Big Jim said. He raised his glass. “Here’s to Clementine and Seraphine, the brave women who made this day possible.”

  They turned toward the graves and took a long drink, while Big Jim and Cole ran their hands lovingly over the carved headstones.

  Cole offered the second toast. “To Jake, who found himself a bride worthy of the Conway name.”

  They lifted their glasses and drank again.

  Jake’s eyes twinkled with humor. “And to Cory, who is about to become the youngest member of our family. For now, at least.”

  “To Cory,” the others said solemnly.

  Cory, getting into the spirit of the event, looked around at the tall, handsome Conway men. “Jake said when he marries my sister he’ll become my brother. Does that mean that Quinn and Josh are my brothers, too?”

  “That it does, boyo.” Big Jim was grinning from ear to ear. “And you gain a whole big loving family, as well.”

  “Oh boy.” Cory was beaming with pleasure.

  “And in honor of the occasion I’ve brought a surprise.” Jake unbuttoned his jacket to reveal a yellow ball of fluff.

  “Trouble!” Cory’s voice was high-pitched in disbelief. “Jake, where’d you get him?”

  “From Randy. He said now that Trouble is old enough to be weaned, he wanted you to have him.”

  “You mean it? Forever?” The boy’s eyes were wide with pure joy as he gathered the puppy into his arms and had his face licked over and over.

  “He’s all yours, Cory. But remember, his messes are also yours to clean. And with a name like Trouble, I’m guessing there will be a whole lot of messes before he’s through growing up.”

  “You bet. Puppies are a lot like sons,” Cole said with a wink.

  “Can I show him to Phoebe and Ela?” Cory asked.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  The minute the words were out of Jake’s mouth, the boy was flying down the hill toward the house, leaving the men to drink their whiskey and wait for the preacher and the women who would be joining them shortly.

  “Oh, just look at you.” Phoebe stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched as Meg descended, the silk gown swirling gracefully about her ankles. The housekeeper used the edge of her apron to wipe her eye. “You’re so beautiful, you’ve got me all teary eyed.”

  Beside her, Ela folded her hands at her waist and merely smiled.

  “I have something for each of you.” Meg opened the mesh bag and removed two silver boxes.

  Phoebe opened hers first to reveal a platinum bracelet bearing a charm depicting a mother and three sons. Two were holding to her skirts, while the third and youngest was in her arms. All three were looking at her with love and trust.

  “Jake and I thought it suited you. He told me that you bought his first suit for a dance. You listened to his troubles with his dad, with his friends, with girls. You’re his mother, Phoebe, even though you didn’t give him life.”

  Phoebe’s eyes filled and she found herself too overcome to do more than hug Meg before wiping her eyes with her apron.

  They turned to watch Ela open her jeweler’s box. Inside was a platinum bracelet with a charm depicting a woman in elaborate Arapaho dress, holding in her hands a loaf of bread.

  “Bread is life,” she said softly.

  “That’s what Jake told me. You’ve been here, giving Big Jim, Cole, and his sons life for as long as they can remember. You’re as essential to this family as life, Ela. And we’re so lucky to have you.”

  Deeply touched, she held out her arm while Meg affixed the bracelet around her wrist. The two embraced.

  They all looked up when Cory burst into the room shouting, “Look. Look what Mr. Morton gave me. He’s mine to keep. Forever.”

  “Trouble.” Meg’s smile was almost as wide as Cory’s as he passed the puppy around for everyone to admire.

  Hearing the sound of an engine, Phoebe dried her tears and turned toward the door. “Reverend Cornell is here. We’d better get outside for the ceremony.”

  With Cory running ahead, Trouble at his heels, the women held hands and started up the hill.

  Halfway there, Jake was waiting, his look both fierce and tender as he got his first view of Meg. The others went ahead, leaving him alone with his bride-to-be.

  “Just look at you.” His words were whispered, as though spoken in a church.

  She laughed. “I wasn’t going to indulge in a gown, but this was my mother’s, and I told myself that a girl only gets to do this once. At least if she’s lucky.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” Jake took both her hands in his and continued staring at her. “I’m afraid, Meg.”

  “Of marriage?”

  He shook his head. “Afraid that I’m dreaming. That none of this is true. That I’ll wake up and this wonderful feeling of absolute love and peace will be gone, without a trace.”

  Without a trace.

  Her heart nearly broke for him. She touched a finger to his lips to silence him. “I’m not going anywhere, Jake. I told Cory that I’m your forever wife. And you’re my forever love.”

  He drew her close and kissed her with the sort of reverence that had her heart tripping over itself. Then for good measure, he kissed her again, before drawing a little away and catching her hand in his.

  “Let’s join the preacher and make it official.”

  As they joined the Conway family on sacred ground, with the graves of Clementine and her five sons, and the fresh grave of Seraphine beside them, they spoke their vows.

  Out of the corner of her eye Meg saw Phoebe tuck her hand through the crook of Cole’s arm. The two shared a look that was so tender, so loving, so intimate, it sent a thrill through Meg’s heart.

  Then she was kissing her new husband, and the family surged forward to offer their hugs and kisses and heartfelt congratulations.

  Above the sound of voices talking, laughing, she heard the sighing of a woman’s voice. Was it Seraphine, letting her know that she was grateful for the chance to be home? Or just the sighing of the wind through the leaves?

  No matter. Seraphine wasn’t the only one who’d come home.

  Meg thought of the woman she’d been when she’d come here, angry and bitter, determined to bury her past along with her father. Instead, she’d regained the love she’d had for this land, and had found a new love that was as shiny and bright as the sun.

  It had to be the sun that had made her eyes all misty.

  Meg looped her arm through Jake’s, and they watched Cory chasing after Trouble, and the family descending the hill to the house and their wedding supper.

  They paused to share a long, lingering kiss.

  “Come on, wife.” Jake kept his arm around her shoulders. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together forever.”

  Together. Forever.

  His words sent a thrill coursing along her spine.

  Now weren’t those just the finest words ever?

  As the oldest of the Conway brothers, Quinn’s only concern is protecting his family and their land. But when beautiful Cheyenne O’Brien’s ranch is plagued by a series of “accidents,” Quinn will risk his heart�
��and his very life—to keep her safe…

  *

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  Quinn framed the wolf in his long-range viewfinder and snapped off a couple of quick photos. The male’s coat, thick and shaggy, was matted with snow from the blizzard that had been raging now for three days.

  After Quinn had left the ranch and returned to the mountain, it had taken considerable skill to locate the pack, despite the homing device implanted in the male. Cut off from their den by the storm and with the alpha female about to give birth, the pack had hunkered down in the shelter of some rocks near the top of a nearby hill. Since there’d been no sighting of the female, Quinn was fairly certain there would be a litter of pups before morning. That would create a problem for the leader of the pack, whose hunting ground had been narrowed considerably by the unexpected spring snowstorm. The alpha male would have to provide food and shelter for his pack, and all would have to wait out the storm before returning to their den.

  Quinn saw the male’s attention fixed on something in the distance. Using his binoculars, Quinn studied the terrain. When he spied a small herd of deer nearly hidden in a stand of trees, he understood what had snagged the wolf’s interest.

  The springtime blizzard had caught all of nature by surprise, it would seem. As Quinn watched, a doe dropped her newborn into the snow and began licking it clean of afterbirth.

  Sadly, the doe and her fawn, in such a vulnerable state, would be the perfect mark for a hungry pack of wolves desperate for food during their own confinement.

  The male wolf took up a predator position, dropping low as he crept slowly up the hill until he reached the very peak. For a moment he remained as still as a statue, gazing into the distance.

  Quinn watched, transfixed. Even though he knew this would end in the bloody death of a helpless newborn fawn, he also knew that it would mean the difference between life and death for the pack of wolves unable to go forward until their own newborns were strong enough to travel. Their strength, their survival, depended upon sustenance. The female, too weak at the moment to hunt, would trust her leader to provide fresh meat while she nursed her young.