The Bride Wore Spurs (The Inconvenient Bride Series, Book 1)
Page 29
Lacey's heart sank. Had he misunderstood what she meant when she said that she'd have married the first man who'd have her? She hadn't meant exactly that, but her poor mind was confused, lost in the puzzles of the past. Lacey thought of calling Hawke back inside, of begging him to listen so she could explain herself a little better, but then it was too late. Next thing she knew, the judge was giving the jury instructions to disregard her prior statement about killing her parents, and her interrogation was underway again.
After carefully explaining what Braddock had done to her in his office and how the gun had accidentally gone off, the case against Lacey Winterhawke finally went to jury. In less than thirty minutes, they returned with an innocent verdict, and Lacey was once again a free woman.
After the courtroom had cleared of spectators, and Lacey had attached the other spur to her boot, the Weatherspoons escorted her outside for a breath of fresh air. Shading herself against the bright afternoon sun, she glanced down the boardwalk to see Hawke standing alone at the end of the building. He looked as if he were staring a hole right through her, but she couldn't quite read his expression.
Desperate to get to him, Lacey turned to Kate. "There are many things we need to talk about, questions I have about my family, but I can not, well—"
"Go to yer husband, lass." Kate smiled indulgently. "Our wounds can wait a wee bit longer for the healing. I've a few things to explain to my own man, too." Then, cuddling her daughter in one arm, she hooked the other around Caleb's elbow, and the little family slowly walked down the street.
Anxiety building in her breast, Lacey started toward her husband. Not sure what he was thinking or feeling when she reached him, she awkwardly asked, "D-did you, ah, hear the verdict?"
"Every word." Hawke's eyes were guarded, suspicious. "I was listening through the window with Crowfoot."
Lacey glanced around, looking for him. "Where is the lad?"
"I asked him to wait up the street a ways so we could have some privacy."
Her uneasy gaze returning to Hawke's still-stony features, Lacey made an attempt to set things right. "I—I don't know where to begin, my husband. You must be very angry with me."
"I'm not angry, Irish." Hawke reached out and touched her cheek. "As for beginning, maybe you shouldn't even try. There's been enough said for one day."
"No, there hasn't. I have to explain what I meant when the judge asked me if I married the first willing man."
"No, you don't." An ironic grin brightened his expression a little. "I had a feeling from the first time we met that there was something wrong with you—why else would a pretty little thing like you want to hitch up with a man like me?"
"Because I was afraid when I first come here, Hawke. I suppose 'twas true the day I first met you that I'd have agreed to marry any man, but only so I wouldn't be a burden to Kate any longer. I didn't have the means to live on my own, or knowledge of any skills, so I thought if I married Caleb's neighbor, Kate's and my troubles would be over. I ne'er thought of the trouble I would be causing you."
Again he touched her cheek, this time with a gentle sadness. "You haven't been much by way of trouble, Lacey. You don't need to say any of this."
"Aye, but I do." She moved close to him, sliding her hand along the chiseled contours of his jaw. "I want you to know that by the time of our wedding, I already felt differently about the whole thing. I felt stronger as a lass on my own, but still hoped mightily that you'd marry with me. I was honored even then, Hawke, to think that someone like you would accept me as your wife. I still am." The stone beneath her fingers softened a little. "If you tell me that you don't want me by your side any longer, I will go away and ne'er trouble you again—but know, too, that if you ask this of me, you'll know my pain as your own, for my soul's within you."
One of Hawke's eyes twitched a little and his Adam's apple bobbed as if he were having difficulty swallowing. But he didn't speak. He couldn't.
Encouraged, Lacey went on. "All I want is to live with you at Winterhawke. If that be what you—" Then at once, she remembered. "Oh, Lord. The ranch."
Hawke shook his dark head. "I couldn't destroy it." His voice was husky, strained. "How could I? Winterhawke is your home as much as mine."
"And the horses?"
He smiled at last. "I couldn't turn the mares loose with such young foals, but I did release Phantom up in the Snowy Range."
"Oh, but Hawke—now he's lost to you."
Adding a chuckle to the smile, Hawke said, "Not really—In fact, I'm kind of looking forward to tracking him down again."
Daring to think that now maybe everything would be all right, Lacey let her head fall against her husband's chest. Instead of allowing her this moment of comfort, he gently took her by the shoulders and held her at arm's length.
"What happened at the doctor's office, Lacey?"
She suspected what he was asking about, but saved it for last. "Oh, 'tis wonderful news. Crowfoot can be helped."
"I already know that. What did the doctor say about you? Are you with child?"
"Aye, my husband." Lacey grinned broadly, aglow from within. "That I am."
"You don't look terribly upset. I thought you didn't want to have children."
"Aye, but that was because I thought any babe I bore would be born mad like me. The doctor told me that probably would not happen, but now even that does not matter—I was ne'er truly mad, so the babe is sure to be all right."
"That's what you've been so upset about?" Still confused, Hawke hadn't truly grasped the idea that he was to become a father. "What about the difficulties you'll have raising the children of a half-breed?"
"A half-breed? Oh, Hawke." Lacey knew exactly what he was referring to and why he couldn't get it out of his mind—he'd carried a burden not so unlike her own all his life, too. Tears welling in her eyes, she softly said, "My only concern was that I might be forced to give the man I love a mad child. I have told you many times before that your Indian blood makes no difference a'tall—in fact, I've grown rather fond of that side of you. Will you ne'er believe that of me, my husband?"
Hawke closed his eyes, and Lacey thought she heard him utter a low groan or growl.
"We are going to have a baby," she went on to say, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Please try to find a way to be happy about this, husband."
Hawke abruptly released her, turned his back, and for a moment, Lacey wasn't exactly sure how he was taking the news. He took three deep breaths, his back heaving mightily, then he swung back around to face her again. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but something caught Hawke's gaze over the top of her head. Lacey glanced over her shoulder to see that several curious onlookers still stood on the boardwalk watching their exchange.
Without a word, Hawke turned Lacey toward him, lifted her off her feet, and carried her around the corner, down the alley, and to the back of the building where they finally found complete privacy. Again he opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead, reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew his ledger. After flipping the pages to a blank sheet, Hawke moistened the tip of his pencil and began to write.
Amused, Lacey watched him awhile, but finally grew impatient and snatched the ledger out of her husband's hand in mid-scrawl. He didn't object, but smiled that dazzling smile of his as she scanned the heading: Loving Lacey.
The first entry in the Reasons For column read:
She's the only female in all of Wyoming Territory willing to marry a hard-headed man like me.
Lacey glanced up at Hawke in surprise, met his gaze, and gave him a shy smile. Then she read entry number two; Because I can't help myself.
Smiling to herself now, Lacey scanned number three, then reread it to make sure of what she'd seen; She's having my baby and wants it as much as I do.
"Oh, Hawke," she murmured as again her gaze shot up to his. This time when their eyes met, it left them both a little misty.
Catching her breath, Lacey read number four, and burst into giggles; Bec
ause I really, really can't help myself.
And number five filled her heart to bursting; Because she is the sun, the moon, earth, wind, and fire to me.
The last entry in that column was scrawled across the page, since Hawke had been writing it when she snatched the book away. Because I—
Giving a grin as big as all of Wyoming, Lacey glanced to the top of the ledger where the Against Loving Lacey column started. It had but one entry; It's too damn embarrassing to tell her how much I love her in public.
With tears rolling down her cheeks, Lacey let the slender book fall from her fingers as she threw her arms around Hawke's neck and whispered, "And I love you, too, my husband."
Then, kissing him with all the love and passion she felt inside, she reminded him of yet another entry which belonged in the Reasons For Loving Lacey column.
Out of the kitchen comes the tune.
—An old Irish saying
Epilogue
Hawke didn't get the opportunity to enjoy rounding Phantom up again. When they returned to Winterhawke Ranch the following day, the stallion was standing in the lush meadow which bordered the mare's enclosure, calling to his "girls." A bucket of grain was the final persuasion that coaxed the silvery stud back into his own corral, and there he was happy to keep watch over his lovely ladies.
Lacey and Kate had worked out their troubles by then, too, and came up with an agreement; since neither of them wanted to live in the past, they decided never to look on it again.
Thanksgiving supper was held at Winterhawke Ranch that year—not because Lacey suddenly became adept at cooking, or because Hawke's culinary talents moved beyond simple stews and roasts, but because the log house was bigger than the Weatherspoons'. With three babies and an eleven-year old boy among them, the weary adults needed all the room they could get.
Shortly after the twins were born in October, Crowfoot had finally agreed to move into the house. His surge of protectiveness made it impossible for him to let them out of his sight for more than an hour at a time. He bedded down in the babies' bedroom, still content to lie upon the little straw mattress he'd fashioned in the barn. This arrangement was fine with Lacey, who wasn't getting much sleep, and Hawke was darn near agreeable to anything, so awed was he over the perfect little boy and girl he and Lacey had created.
As William Braddock's only living relative, Hawke did indeed inherit everything the man owned, including Winterhawke Ranch. Other than their home, which Hawke had considered as his own property anyway, the inheritance didn't really mean so much to him. He and his wife were content just to live in peace to raise their family and the horses. Of course, the extra money Braddock's holdings afforded them did come in handy here and there. Especially for frivolous, nonessential items. Like sterling silver spurs.
Eyeing the pair of miniature spurs hanging from a wire above each of his red-haired babies, Hawke impulsively reached out and flicked the tiny shamrock wheels at the backs, setting all four of them to spinning. For luck, he told himself. Not that the Winterhawke family felt they needed any more than they already had. But just for luck.
The End
Continue your journey with
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Page forward for excerpts from
Marrying Miss Shylo
The Marrying Kind
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Marrying Miss Shylo
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book Two
by
Sharon Ihle
Bestselling, Award-winning Author
"Are you all right?" Shylo asked, moving closer. "You look a little flushed. Is the heat getting to you?"
"It appears that it is," Dimitri said, fighting the urge to rip the pins from her hair and let it tumble over his hands. "What I have in mind," he whispered, "will not cool either of us. This is all right with you?"
"It is if you want to court me."
Dimitri was taken aback. Were all American women so aggressive? "I suppose you could say that, among other things, is what I have in mind."
"What other things?" She tilted up her chin, parting her lips in case he hadn't caught on.
Dimitri lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers. "Something like that. Do you still approve?"
She was surprised to hear her own voice come out in a breathless whisper. "Mr. Adonis, if I'd known it was going to be so much trouble getting you to kiss me, I would've just sat down and wrote you a letter."
Marrying Miss Shylo
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book Two
by
Sharron Ihle
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Marrying Miss Shylo
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Page forward and continue your journey
with an excerpt from
The Marring Kind
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book Three
Excerpt from
The Marrying Kind
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book Three
by
Sharon Ihle
Bestselling, Award-winning Author
Libby—this isn't a game. Do you understand what you're asking for, looking the way you do in that dress, saying the things you're saying? Do you understand what you're doing to me at all?"
Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo against her throat and she found it almost impossible to breathe, but Libby didn't hesitate with her answer. "I think," she murmured softly, "that maybe I do."
"You don't give a man much of a chance to behave himself, do you." It wasn't a question. Donovan raised her up higher and tighter in his embrace, leaving just the tips of her toes beneath her for support. His arms rigid ropes of steel, his thighs and other parts of him, hot and hard where he pressed against her legs and belly, he caught her chin in one hand and forced her to look directly into his eyes.
"Just exactly what is it you want from me?" Donovan asked, his voice no longer harsh, but thick and husky. "And this time, be sure you say exactly what you mean. Be very, very sure."
All of your love, all of you, is what she caught herself thinking, but Libby still had barely enough control left to keep from vocalizing the thought. She almost said, "Nothing," because she knew he would never be hers, not even for one night if she were to ask for more than a few moments in his arms. But she couldn't keep from testing him just a little. Speaking in a breathless whisper, she asked, "What if I were to ask for... your soul?"
Surprising her, Donovan uttered a short bitter laugh. "We wouldn't have a problem. I don't have one."
The moment the last word was out, his mouth came down on hers, and in that moment, Libby felt as if she had everything she'd ever need right here in her arms.
The Marrying Kind
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book Three
by
Sharron Ihle
~
To purchase
The Marrying Kind
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Sharon Ihle's eBook Discovery Author Page
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Bestselling author, Sharon Ihle has written more than a dozen novels set in the American West. All have garnered rave reviews and several have foreign translations. Many of Sharon's books have won prestigious awards, and as an author, she has been a Romantic Times nominee for Career Achievement in Love and Laughter. A former Californian, Sharon now makes her home on the frozen plains of North Dakota. Hard to believe, but it's true.
You can contact Sharon through her website: www.sharonihle.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Accolades & Rave Reviews
More eBooks by Sharron Ihle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Excerpt from MARRYING MISS SHYLO – Book 2 in The Inconvenient Bride Series by Sharon Ihle
Excerpt from THE MARRING KIND - Book 3 in The Inconvenient Bride Series by Sharon Ihle
Meet the Author
Table of Contents
Cover
Accolades & Rave Reviews
More eBooks by Sharron Ihle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14