by Jo Noelle
“First, we’ll stop by the house to pick up a few things for you.”
“Seffi already packed me a bag. It’s in the back of the carriage. She pointed behind them.
Waylon relaxed into the drive. A few miles out of town, Vivian scooted up tight to him and wrapped her hands around his arm. The air had a little crispness to it, and he was sure she welcomed sharing a little warmth. A light snowfall began. Even if it turned into a full storm, they didn’t have far to go, and the storm wouldn’t stop them. Later, she wrapped one arm behind his waist and the other around the front. How much farther was it now? He recognized the trail—halfway there.
“You’ve made me a very happy woman today.” She laid her head on his chest.
It took a moment before he replied, realizing it was getting harder to think at all. “Mrs. Morgan, everything I did today was for a purely selfish reason. You make me happy. I always want you by my side.”
She bobbed up and kissed his cheek, then snuggled back down to his chest. Her hand slipped underneath his coat and rested on his stomach. He decided then that he could drive a team with one hand. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer still. Maybe he should have planned a room at the hotel instead of the drive out to the old homestead.
For the past few days, Waylon had cleaned and arranged the old place to be a perfect spot to start their married life together. His parents had begun the ranch from there, and as far as he knew, they had a loving, committed marriage. It was exactly what he’d hoped for, too. He didn’t know how long she’d like to stay there, but he had enough food for more than a week and had stockpiled wood and coal, too.
The snow began to stick together as it fell in large conglomerate flakes, fluffy and drifting lazily from the sky. This might turn out to be quite the storm yet. He was glad he’d left a work assignment for the ranch hands to keep the road to the old place cleared as well.
It was falling hard when they arrived at the homestead. Vivian threw the blanket off her lap and jumped from the carriage, the snow above her ankles. “You take care of the horses, then come right back.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Waylon tied the reins and raced in front of her to the door. “I’ll carry you over the threshold if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Her eyes brightened. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He opened the door and swept her into his arms—light as a feather pillow. Once he stepped in, he found he didn’t want to let go.
The table was decorated with pinecones and evergreen boughs, filling the room with their fragrance. He hoped she liked it. The fire he’d banked that morning kept the chill out, but it wasn’t warm now that it had died down. This was quite a dilemma—what to do first. He looked from the door to the bed to Vivian to the stove and back to the bed again.
“Horses,” Vivian said. “Take care of them, and I’ll be right here waiting on you.”
Waylon set her down and reluctantly left the cabin. He was sure that he’d never broken down the carriage tack as quickly as that moment. Then he raced back to the cabin. The storm was going to dump a lot of snow tonight, and the wind howling behind it ensured a few drifts as well. Waylon smiled to himself. They just might be holed up at the cabin for quite some time.
Apparently, he’d been gone long enough for Vivian to build up the fire, warm the house, and…
Waylon sniffed the air. “Is that wassail?”
A small pan sat on the stove, warming a bit of the drink. “I brought a jar of it with us. I know how much you like it. It will be ready in a few minutes.”
Waylon looked at the pan and then at Vivian. There was no contest. He stalked behind her as she stirred the wassail, placed his hands on her hips, and then he bent to kiss her neck. She shivered and giggled. Waylon moved the pan to the table and then laced his fingers with hers, leading her over to the bed.
Waylon pushed his fingers into the tucks and curls of her hair, removing one pin at a time, unbraiding the silky strands, and letting them fall over his hands. They spent the afternoon and night in each other’s arms in the house where happy marriages begin.
Epilogue
New Year’s Day
1892
Gray morning light filtered past the curtains and puddled on the floor of the old homestead. Waylon had been awake for nearly an hour. He’d stoked the fire, then returned to bed to watch Vivian sleep. Her back was snuggled up to his chest, and her head rested on the pillow with his arm beneath. His other arm wrapped around her waist.
Waylon thought he’d had a pretty good life. The ranch was successful. His family was loving and close. He lived in the middle of the most beautiful part of God’s earth—at least he thought so.
But now he knew what his mother had been trying to do for him. He could no longer imagine his life without Vivian. It had been a shell with the most important piece missing, and he didn’t even know it. The vaquero said the Lord would give him a gift if he would accept it. Gratitude filled his heart for the best Christmas present he could have ever imagined. Thank you, Lord. That year Waylon knew he had experienced two gifts from the Lord’s hands—redemption and Vivian. A new future had been written for him by love—the kind of love that heals.
Vivian rolled to her back and sighed. Her eyes blinked and opened. “Good morning.”
Waylon kissed her gently. “Good morning.”
“Is it still snowing?”
It had snowed every day since they’d arrived. Winter’s fury had held off for weeks and was making up for it in seven days. Waylon had only ventured out to care for his animals in the barn and to get more wood or coal from the porch. “Yes, it is.”
“Oh, good. We’re still trapped.” Vivian pulled his face close to hers, and Waylon leaned against her. “I guess we’ll have to stay another day.” She sat up enough for her lips to touch his.
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Morgan,” he whispered as his lips found hers.
Cowboys & Angels Series
Here’s what’s out or already planned:
Book 1: Beatrice the Bride
Book 2: Lucky in Love
Book 3: Rescuing the Rancher
Book 4: Taming the Trainer
Book 5: Mail Order Merchant
Book 6: Waiting on Waylon
Hang onto your hat—there’ll be more!
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About the Author
Jo Noelle is a Colorado native but lived in several other mountain states--Idaho, Utah, and California. She has two adult children and three small kids. She teaches teachers and students about reading and writing, grows freakishly large tomatoes, enjoys cooking (especially desserts), builds furniture, sews beautiful dresses, and likes to go hiking in the nearby mountains. Oh, and by the way, she's two people--Canda and Deanna, a mother/daughter writing team. We write sweet romance stories with contemporary, paranormal, fantasy, or time-travel twists. Visit Jo's site at http://JoNoelle.com or connect with us on Facebook @JoNoelle.
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Other Books by Jo Noelle
Newbie “The housing market is crashing, and Sophie’s life is crashing with it.”
Lexi’s Pathetic Fictional Love Life “Falling in love is easy in fiction—in high school, not so much.”
Amnesty “Cassie is going to heaven, if she can get amnesty from hell in the next 20 days.”
Years & an Ocean “Going to a séance was supposed to be a harmless diversion in Victorian England, but for Delia Spencer it was life-altering.”
All By My Selfie “Gwen Mackenzie has nightly dreams of an ancient warrior bound by a curse, nicknamed #ScottishBoyfriend, and can that man rock a kilt!�
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One Last Summer “A year ago, Jenna broke Cole’s heart. Now, she’s back, and she isn’t sure which worries her more—a summer of rivalry or romance?
Lucky in Love “Hugh knows a woman like Julianne is above his touch. But—what would he give to be wrong?”
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