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Megan

Page 20

by Linda Lael Miller


  He faced her, laid his hands on either side of her huge belly. “When?”

  “February,” she managed to say.

  A grin broke across his wind-chapped face. He needed a bath and a shave and a thorough barbering, and he was the most beautiful sight Megan had ever seen. “Guess I got here just in time,” he said.

  “You’re back to stay?” She hardly dared put the question, the answer was so important.

  He nodded. “If you’ll have me. I settled my business up in Montana, just like I said I would, and now I’m home for good.” He propelled her toward the house. “Go on inside before you take a chill. Caney’ll have my hide if you do.”

  She hesitated, then nodded and obeyed, but she stood at a side window, still wearing her cloak, and watched as he led his horse into the barn, watched till he came out again and started toward the house. Only then was she truly convinced that she wasn’t imagining everything.

  He saw her, grinned.

  Her heart tumbled end over end, like a circus acrobat doing somersaults.

  He came in, pulled off his gloves, removed his coat and hat, and hung them up like he always had, then moved toward her. “If I can’t hold you in my arms, Megan, and lay you down in our bed, I don’t know that I’ll live much longer. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Whose fault is that?” she demanded, but she was weakening, and he knew it.

  “Mine,” he said. Then he held out one hand to her. She took it.

  He led her inside, lifted her off her feet, and carried her up the stairs, along the hallway, and into their bedroom. The room was cold, going unused the way it had, and once they had divested each other of their clothes, they scrambled under the covers.

  Webb slipped beneath the blankets to caress Megan’s stomach, to kiss and nibble at her flesh. Then he was between her legs, parting her, slipping his hands under her bottom. When he tasted her, she cried out. When he indulged, she all but lost her mind. At last, she reached a crescendo that flung her mind in one direction and her spirit in another, and she sank, whimpering, to the mattress.

  He murmured to her, kissed her all over. By the time he reached her mouth, she was desperate again. The instant he slid inside her, with touching care, she exploded in satisfaction, but his appeasement took a while. When it overtook him, he stiffened upon her, shuddered violently, and groaned her name like a dying man crying out to heaven.

  He fell beside her, and they lay in exhausted silence for a long time, arms and legs entwined, while shadows crept across the room.

  “You won’t be going back to Montana?” Megan ventured presently. She had to know.

  “Maybe for a visit sometime,” Webb answered. “Jesse’s got a good foreman, though. He’ll make a go of the place.”

  “So the two of you managed to have your father’s will overturned?”

  Webb sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “But the old man didn’t make it easy. That’s why I was gone so long—there was a lot of wrangling to be done.”

  Megan snuggled closer still and traced a finger tip down the middle of Webb’s bare chest. “If you were a gentleman,” she said, “you’d get up and build a fire.”

  He moved under the blankets again, began kissing her belly. “Who said I was a gentleman?” he countered, his voice muffled. He found her breasts, nibbled at one peak as though it were some delectable delicacy. “Besides, I think things are getting pretty hot right here in this bed. We’ve got a fire going already, Mrs. Stratton.”

  She couldn’t disagree.

  Soon, in fact, she couldn’t speak at all.

  Epilogue

  There they are, my beautiful granddaughters—fiery Bridget, face glowing in the firelight, plainly adoring her husband and that pack of rascally children she and Trace have produced. I well recall the day Trace Qualtrough came to Primrose Creek, on foot and carrying a worn-out saddle over one shoulder, meaning to look after his best friend’s widow. They’ve made them a place to be proud of, since then.

  Then there’s Christy. She presented the greatest challenge to my matchmaking skills, setting her cap for Jake Vigil the way she did, when it was really young Zachary Shaw, the marshal, she was meant to marry. Things have certainly come right in the end, though not without considerable doing on my part. There are two perfect children in that family, with another on the way, though Christy and Zachary don’t suspect it yet.

  And Skye. My brave, lovely Skye. She’s met her match in Jake Vigil, and between the two of them, they’ll build an empire. No, sir, I’ve got no worries where they’re concerned. Their love is as sturdy as the trees bristling on these hills.

  Finally, little Megan. Of course, she’s not so little anymore—a grown woman, in point of fact—and a beauty into the bargain, with that glorious red hair of hers. She and Webb, they’re as well suited as me and my Rebecca were, and that’s saying something. Megan’s baby will be a girl, as beautiful as her mama, and just as smart and spirited, too. Fact is, they’ll have them a flock of girls, the Strattons will, with a couple of boys coming along later, to bring up the rear.

  There’s snow falling outside, coming down soft and pretty from a heavy sky. Noah, Bridget’s boy, he’s just about ready to come unstrung, he’s so excited about his birthday. He’ll grow into a fine man, though not without giving his folks a gray hair or two in the process. Makes me smile to think about it.

  Here are Caney Blue and her fine bridegroom, arriving late for the festivities. Happiness has been a long time coming to Caney, and to her husband, too, but they’ve finally reached a place of peace and plenty, these two good people. Caney’s baby girl will grow up right here, with the rest of them.

  Darned if Lillian Colefield herself didn’t just follow Caney and Malcolm into the house. She’s worn pretty well over the years, given all she’s gone through. I never expected to see her again, but things do have a way of coming full circle, especially in matters of the heart. I’m glad they’ve all found each other. Glad I can go now, and meet up with my Rebecca.

  She’s been waiting a long time.

  Books by Linda Lael Miller

  Banner O’Brien

  Corbin’s Fancy

  Memory’s Embrace

  My Darling Melissa

  Angelfire

  Desire and Destiny

  Fletcher’s Woman

  Lauralee

  Moonfire

  Wanton Angel

  Willow

  Princess Annie

  The Legacy

  Taming Charlotte

  Yankee Wife

  Daniel’s Bride

  Lily and the Major

  Emma and the Outlaw

  Caroline and the Raider

  Pirates

  Knights

  My Outlaw

  The Vow

  Two Brothers

  Springwater

  Springwater Seasons series:

  Rachel

  Savannah

  Miranda

  Jessica

  A Springwater Christmas

  One Wish

  The Women of Primrose Creek series:

  Bridget

  Christy

  Skye

  Megan

  We hope you enjoyed reading this Pocket Books eBook.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Copyright © 2000 by Linda Lael
Miller

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-671-04247-5

  ISBN: 978-0-7434-4829-1 (eBook)

  First Pocket Books printing August 2000

  POCKET BOOKS and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

 

 

 


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