Helen glared. “Emily never had a chance resisting you, did she?”
Jake wanted to be insulted, but a spark in Helen’s eye made him realize it might be the very first compliment the old harpy had given him. “I never had a chance with her either.”
Helen looked at Emily. Jake knew Helen could see the torment gone from Emily’s expression and the color back in her cheeks. Helen wouldn’t try to stop Emily from marrying him, not that he’d let her.
“Do you want to marry him, honey?”
Emily nodded. “Oh, yes.”
Jake smiled and she took a step toward him.
Helen’s voice stopped her. “I suppose you want to marry him right now?”
Emily’s eyes flashed, and Jake remembered the woman who had fought for her elm tree and chopped a load of wood before he was awake in the morning and spent hours up to her neck in the mud to save a cow. Despite the pain he’d caused her, she still had spirit.
“Well, Helen, either I can marry him right now or you can sign this license where it says ‘witness’ and take Stephie and leave us alone. Show her your stamp, Jake.”
Helen laughed. “No, the stamp won’t be necessary. How about if we do all three? Marriage first, signature second, taking Stephie third.”
Emily blushed.
Helen said, “I think I can track down Pastor Lewis, and your dirty T-shirt isn’t quite a wedding dress.”
“Well, Jake, say something.” Emily looked at him as if daring him to back out.
Like there was a chance in the world he’d let her escape.
He fired off a few orders of his own. “Emily, go get a dress on. Helen, call the pastor.” He tugged on the lapel of his chambray shirt. “I’m going home to put a suit on. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
He went to Emily under Helen’s watchful eye, and leaned close to her ear. “In our wedding, I had you pictured wearing blue jeans and work boots.”
With shining eyes, she closed one fist over the collar of his blue work shirt. “I never pictured a wedding for us.”
“I’ll pick out a dress and get the shower started.” Helen headed down the hall. Gone but not forgotten.
Emily called after her. “I want to wear my white sundress!”
Helen nodded.
“The sundress won’t take ten minutes to put on, hotshot.”
Jake grabbed her wrist for old time’s sake. It was completely different than in the early days.
Emily laughed. “I had your electricity disconnected. Let’s call and get it turned back on while we’re at the church.”
Jake nodded. “It’s Saturday, so they won’t get to it until Monday. We can stay here until they get it done.”
“So, you’re going to do it? Go all modern?”
“Yes, you win. . .again. . .like always.”
“When have I ever won with you? I’ve been taking orders since we met.” Emily shook him by the lapels.
“Are you kidding? I can’t remember your being the least bit obedient.”
Emily laughed. “You know I haven’t laughed once since you left. I’m so glad you’re back. I want you to know. . .” She hesitated.
“What? You can tell me anything.”
“I want you to know I’m yours, Jake. This last month I found out where I am doesn’t matter. I just have to be with you. So if things don’t work out for you here, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Jake hugged her until her feet lifted off the floor. “I’ve found out a lot, too. I found out Sid was embezzling. I found out my distrust of people came about because I was hanging around with the wrong ones. I’d trust you with my life. After ten minutes with Helen, ten lo-o-ng minutes”—Emily laughed again as Jake set her on her feet—“I’d trust her, too. I’ve lived my whole life either working myself to death in horrible conditions or with limo drivers and four-star restaurants. I didn’t even know how real people lived. I wanted so badly to escape that life and get back to nature that I thought I had to give up everything—electricity, phones, mail, people.”
“All you ever had to do was stop and look around. There are real people everywhere, including among the rich. How rich are you anyway?”
“Well, I was rich before I sold Hanson and Coltrain.”
“Did that hurt you financially to do that?”
For a moment her interest almost resurrected his old, distrustful self. “Would it matter if it did?”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “I just hated to think of your giving up a fortune for me. It seems like the kind of thing you might regret later. I really ought to pound you for asking if it mattered, hotshot.”
He let go of distrust for the last time. “Anyway, I was rich then, but now I’m really rich.”
“Really rich?”
“Oh, man.”
“We don’t have to spend it, do we, honey? I think too much wealth kind of wrecks people.”
“No, we don’t. And I like ‘honey’ better than ‘hotshot.’ ”
“Oh, you do not!”
Jake laughed and swung her around in his arms. Her long hair flew out and his heart nearly exploded when he thought of all of this strength and beauty being his. “We can fix the Barrett place up all you want. Or would you rather live here? This would make a wonderful home.” He held her with her feet dangling off the floor.
“I’ve always loved the Barrett. . .excuse me, I mean the Hanson place.”
Jake nodded his approval. “I like the sound of that.”
Emily looked into his eyes. “When I woke up this morning, my life stretched in front of me like a thousand miles of uninhabited Black Hills. I never expected to be happy again. I’ve always believed happiness came from inside. But you took it with you when you left. I’m almost scared to love you so much.”
Jake saw the tears swimming in her blue eyes and knew the sting of his own. Yes, with Emily he was definitely going to live forever. Laughing and crying. Saying no and saying yes, yes, yes. Leaving his stress behind just by holding her in his arms.
“I didn’t believe love existed until I met you. I don’t think I’ve ever been given true love before. Not from my mother or father. Not from the women I dated. But one single day with you and my whole world turned around. And Stephie. She’s so precious. I fell in love with her the minute she came into your kitchen and said, ‘Hi, Jake,’ after all our worrying about her finding out about me.
“And God. You helped me find enough peace so I could open myself to Him again. You’re a gift to me, straight from a loving God. I only hope I can be worthy of that gift and make you and Stephie as happy as you’ve made me.”
Emily had been holding him tight as he talked. He looked into her eyes and saw his love reflected back. “You want to make me happy?”
Jake nodded.
She kissed his lips as softly as a breath of air. “Then go away.”
His eyebrows arched with surprise.
“And get a suit on and get back here.”
Jake kissed her hard, then turned and ran.
For the very first time in his life he was running toward something—a family, love, faith.
At last, he was running toward home.
Epilogue
The judge showed up and had to produce some ID to convince Helen he was the real thing. It helped that Pastor Lewis was his fishing buddy.
Emily was embarrassed, but all things considered, it was probably best that Helen was in charge of this slapdash ceremony.
The word got out about the wedding even before they got to the church. Ladies with casserole dishes were at work in the church kitchen. The pastor’s wife had driven into Hot Springs and grabbed an armload of roses in every color they had at the local discount store. She’d even come up with a wedding cake of sorts. It wasn’t tiered with a bride and groom on top, but it was a sheet cake, pretty, dotted with flowers.
Helen played the organ as she did every week. Her music was as perfect as if she’d talked for hours with Emily about which songs would be best.
The vows were spoken. They sang a hymn together and ate a feast and were still home in time for chores and a honeymoon in Emily’s dream house, which was nearly perfectly restored by Jake, a top-notch carpenter who was no longer a clueless cowboy.
About the Author
MARY CONNEALY is an author, journalist, and teacher. She writes for three divisions of Barbour Publishing: Heartsong Presents, Barbour Trade Fiction, and Heartsong Presents Mysteries. Mary lives on a farm in Nebraska with her husband, Ivan. They have four daughters—Joslyn, Wendy, Shelly, and Katy—and one son-in-law, Aaron
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my husband, Ivan; not because he’s a clueless cowboy, though—exactly the opposite. This is a book I wrote very early on in my writing life, and he was so kind about the time I spent writing and has been ever since. I would never have gotten a book published if he hadn’t been such a good sport. It means so much when he says he’s proud of me.
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Mary Connealy
Author Relations
PO Box 721
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
Clueless Cowboy Page 16