by Jillian Hart
"A normal life? Me?" He knew his voice sounded choked, he knew he wasn't fooling Milo. He couldn’t even fool himself anymore. The memories of packing up, of riding away from the friends he'd made--real friends--in Pine Bluff, of the only job he'd ever been proud of, well, it had cut him to the quick. It had stolen every last ounce of his hope. "I'm not cut out for that, even if she wanted me."
"Well, if that's what you think." Milo seemed to understand, his eyes sad. "Then let's go."
With a smile, as if he knew something Zane didn't, Milo reined his horse and rode on down the country road.
"C'mon, Winchester." Zane pressed his heels to the gelding's sides, but it felt wrong. All wrong. He drew back on the reins before the horse could take more than a few steps.
"Yeah, that's how I thought it was." Milo turned around in his saddle. Grinning. "I'll see you in town."
Zane nodded, hung his head. His ribs felt ready to crack, overshadowing the pain of the bullet wound by far. It consumed him, the image of her tears, the undying hope of finding everything he'd ever wanted. Even if she still wanted him, knowing his past, he didn't know the first thing about domestic life. About coming home at the end of a work day, about being a husband, or a father. Thinking of his own pa, he cringed. No, he'd likely be a terrible pa. It was best to keep going. To stick with what he knew, the only thing he was good at.
But it wasn't what he wanted. He bowed his head, reins in hand, the bakery box in the other, trying to find the strength to keep on going. Pain cannoned through him with force enough to crack every bone and he felt as if he were breaking, physically, emotionally, mentally into pieces that could never be made whole again. All he could think about was Verbena standing there with tears streaking down her face. Tears for him. As unbelievable as that was, as incomprehensible. No one had ever cared for him that much.
Whether he was worthy or not, he couldn't ride away and leave her like that so he swung Winchester around.
Verbena stood there in the road, skirts swirling around her ankles, shawl fringe swinging in the unforgiving winter wind, her face tracked with tears. The fresh, brilliant purple bruises at her throat showed above her collar, reminding him of everything she'd suffered. He'd told her his past and yet there she was, crying for him. Needing him.
He was off his horse in a second, set the box on the ground, bounded over to her as fast as he could go. Heart pumping, hope building, still not believing it could be true. She flung herself into his arms, snuggling against his chest, holding on as if she never wanted to let him go.
"I should have never said goodbye," he confessed, the soft silk of her hair against his chin, snagging along his whiskers. Impossibly tender feelings rose up, overtaking him, brimming over, making him hold her so tight. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Are you okay?"
"No." She tipped her head back, meeting his gaze. Heartbreak shone there. Her sapphire blue gaze searched his, unguarded and vulnerable, pure feeling. "There's something I should have told you and I want to say it now. You are exactly the man I've been wishing for, even when I'd given up wishing. You rescued a part of my heart I thought would never be able to heal."
"Is that right?" He arched an eyebrow in surprise. His throat worked, he fell silent, he stared out at the horizon behind her, where the storm clouds gathered. "But you know my past."
"It has made you the honorable, good man you are today." She gazed up at him, so full of love that it hurt. "You are strong, kind and good. Everything a man should be. So, I'd really like you to stay. I know you like being on your own, but I--"
"Stop right there," he interrupted, framing her face in his hands. He looked like he couldn’t take it anymore, as if he were ready to shatter. "I've been looking for you all my life. I love you, Verbena. Heart and soul. I would give anything, hands down, just to be with you."
"I was really hoping you felt that way." Overjoyed, she placed her hands over his, happiness dawning like the sun, chasing out all the pain and shadows. She felt so bright. "I love you too, so very much."
"No one has ever said those words to me." He tugged her against him, wrapping her in his iron-strong arms, cradling her against the invincible wall of his chest. He held her for a moment, tight to his chest, before tipping her chin up to bring her gaze to his. "I'd like to come courting, but I don't know how to do that. I have no courting skills. So I'll get straight to the point. Will you marry me?"
"Marry you?" She let out a soft laugh, she couldn’t help it. This is what she loved most about Zane. He was straight-forward, without pretense. With him, what you saw was what you got, and that was honest and noble. "Why, I'd be happy to marry you. You are going to be the love of my life."
"You are my life." The truth and sincerity of his confession shone in his gray eyes and left no doubt. "I'm going to love you forever."
He leaned in to capture her mouth with his. His kiss like a fairy tale promise of forever--tender, cherished, true. It put happily-ever-after in her heart and brought to life the dreams in her soul. It was easy to see their future together, wedding in the little town church, a happy marriage with laughter and tenderness, babies one day to raise, a love to treasure.
Something icy touched her cheek. Tiny, airy perfect snow flakes were waltzing down, dancing over them, making everything fresh and new. It was a beautiful world, she thought as he took her hand, pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear. "It's good to be home."
Epilogue
Landville, Wyoming
"Annie, there you are!" Jo Ellen Motts dashed down the shadowed alley between Hershell's Hotel and the Rag Tag Saloon, the ends of her scarf bobbing with her bouncing gait. "A letter came for you over at the Dawson house."
"A letter?" Annie McPhee closed the saloon's back door behind her, gave a shiver in the frigid air and upended the dustpan, emptying it. She hadn't worked for the Dawson's for over two years. "That's odd. Who would be writing me? And how are you, by the way."
"Being promoted to head housekeeper agrees with me." With a dimpled grin, Jo Ellen hustled up, sorting through her sizable and cluttered reticule. "Wait, I just had it. I know I put it in here. Yes, here it is. This came addressed in care of me, which is weird, but remember when you were fired? I said you could use my address for that letter you sent, the one to your Grandmother. This has a Montana Territory postmark."
"Well, I wrote her, true, but that was forever ago and she never wrote me back." Annie set down her dustpan and took the envelope. She squinted in the twilight trying to make out the address written in a pretty script. The return address was from Rocking M Ranch. Her grandmother's ranch. "I wonder why she took so long to answer."
"But she did answer, that's the point." Jo Ellen flushed with happiness. "You said there had been some estrangement in the family. Maybe she's come to regret it. And let's face it, you need help. Maybe she's offering it. Go on, open it. I'm dying, here."
"Well, I don't want you to die." Annie grinned, swiped a stray lock of blond hair out of her eyes and carefully tore open the flap. Inside was a single sheet of paper wrapped around several greenbacks. "Oh, goodness. Look at this."
"She sent money!" Jo Ellen clasped her hands together, overjoyed. "Oh, Annie, this has been such a hard haul for you. Maybe you can get Bea out of the orphanage now."
Annie blinked, staring at the bills. Five twenties. One hundred dollars. She'd never held so much money at one time. Ever. Hands shaking, she tipped the letter to better catch the light from the saloon's windows.
Dear Annie,
My name is Aumaleigh McPhee. I am your aunt. Your grandmother passed away last summer and I found your letter written to her when I was going through some of her things. I am so sorry to hear of the hardship you were going through and while I hope it is resolved now and that you are all right, here is some traveling money if it is not. It is enough for stage passage to Deer Springs, the nearest stage stop to our little town of Bluebell. You should have enough left over to hire a horse at the local livery, or you can always sen
d a message and I'll come to fetch you. I look forward to hearing from you, and if you do decide to come, even just to visit, please know you will be very welcome here. This is a big ranch and we can always find room and a job for family.
With love,
Aumaleigh
"Oh, I can't believe this!" Jo Ellen gasped, reading over Annie's shoulder. "This is wonderful, just what you need. She said there's work for you and everything. Annie, you have to go."
"But it's not enough passage for Bea." Annie folded up the letter, feeling that sadness sink in and steal the hope the letter had brought. "At least, I don't think it is. It's probably only enough for one person."
"Then you buy a cheap old horse with the money and ride there yourself, with Bea." Jo Ellen took Annie by the hands, gave them a squeeze. "This is your chance for a new start. You have family who wants you. What I wouldn't give for that. You march into that saloon and quit. I'll go in with you to make sure that owner doesn't give you grief. You are going to Montana Territory. Don't make me take you there myself."
"Fine, I'm going. Of course I'm going." She carefully tucked the letter with the money inside into her pocket. It was all too much to take in. Managing two jobs, sleeping in the livery barn, which was really trespassing, so she could save what little she earned toward being able to get Bea back one day. She reached for the broom and dust pan, feeling the burden of the past two years slide right off her shoulders.
"Thank you for delivering this, Jo Ellen." Still a little stunned, Annie yanked open the saloon's back door, her patched skirt swirling around her. Hope took root, growing strong, a feeling she hadn't known in ages. "I'm going to Montana!"
She was going to go meet this aunt of hers. She didn't care what it was like there or what job she had to do. As long as she got to keep Bea. That was all that mattered.
The McPhee Clan continues in Deep In The Heart, Annie's story, coming later this fall.
Check out more great romances from Jillian Hart at
http://jillianhart.net
About the Author
Jillian Hart makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not writing away on her next book, she can be found reading, going to lunch with friends and spending quiet evenings at home with her family.