Love's Silver Lining (Silver Lining Ranch Series Book 1)

by Julie Lessman

  He kissed the top of her head. “Well, we’ve got a week-long train ride in which to do it, darlin’, so let’s go buy you and Maggie a ticket.”

  “But we already have tickets,” Libby said with a lift of her head, near breathless with excitement. “We were just on our way to surprise you for Thanksgiving.”

  “No kidding?” He grinned and lifted her up to kiss her, feet dangling as he pinned her to his waist. “So, you might say I won again, then, didn’t I?” he said with a devilish glint in his eyes, teasing her like all the times he’d bested her in school, “because looks like my surprise trumped yours.”

  Her smile fell open as he let her down. “Finn McShane, you are—”

  He silenced her with another hungry kiss, taming the fire of her temper with the fire of his kiss as only he could. “

  “Ahem.”

  Both Libby and Finn whirled to blink at Alfred, who stood not two feet away, cheeks pink and tickets in hand. “I beg your pardon, Miss Libby, but your luggage is aboard the 2:15 to Reno, and this is your and Miss Maggie’s ticket for your sleeping car.”

  “Thank you, my good man,” Finn said with a snatch of the ticket, sliding Libby a wink that toasted her cheeks. “We’ll need to hurry, then, if we’re going to secure a second sleeping car for me and my wife.”

  “Oh, no, please,” Maggie said with a step back, offering a tentative smile. “You take our ticket, Finn, for you and Libby, and I’ll just stay here in New York for Thanksgiving with Libby’s aunt and her family.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Libby whirled around, determined that Maggie would not stay behind. She clasped her friend’s hands in hers. “You’re coming with us, Maggie, and I won’t take no for answer.”

  Finn gave Libby’s neck a playful pinch. “I’d trust her on that one, Maggie.”

  Maggie sighed. “But I was only going in the first place to keep Libby company,” she explained with a pleading slope of brows, “but now she doesn’t need me if you take her home, Finn.”

  “Except …” Finn buttoned Maggie with that no-nonsense gaze Libby had bucked many a time. “I was given express orders to bring you both home for Thanksgiving, Miss Mullaney, and I aim to do just that.”

  “By whom?” Maggie wanted to know, arms in a stubborn fold she’d learned from Libby, no doubt.

  Finn’s chin nudged up, obviously more than experienced in dealing with obstinate women. “The entire family, if you must know, from Sheridan threatening to toss horseshoes”—he lowered his head to pin her with a potent gaze—“and I don’t mean in a game, to Shaylee making noises about bringing Annabelle to the table if you don’t come.”

  Libby let out a squeal at the very thought, hurrying to loop an arm around Maggie’s waist. “Come on, Maggie—the family misses you, and I will, too, if you’re not there.”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie hedged, grating her bottom lip as she looked up at Finn. “Blaze was pretty angry when I left, so I don’t think it’s a good thing for either of us to see the other again, at least not right now.” Her bodice rose with a heavy sigh as she gave Libby a pitiful look out of the corner of her eyes. “Maybe Christmas?”

  “Nope.” Slacking a hip, Finn folded his arms, smile calm, but jaw tight. “Family’s expecting both of you for Thanksgiving, Maggie, and I don’t plan to disappoint. Besides, Blaze is just fine. In fact, you might say he’s a new man, and he wants you to come.”

  Maggie’s smile slid off-center as she tipped her head to give Finn a patient look. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Finn, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t say that.”

  “No?” Finn cocked a brow and hooked his thumbs onto his front pockets. “Well, don’t take my word for it, darlin’,” he said with a lazy grin. He shot her a wink before his gaze veered over her shoulder with a definite nod. “Ask him.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  Maggie froze to the floor, her body a block of ice.

  “Wait—you’re here too?” Libby released Maggie to throw her arms around Blaze’s neck, giving him a squealy hug before pulling him to face Maggie. “Oh my goodness, Maggie, isn’t this wonderful?”

  Maggie had stopped breathing, so she wasn’t exactly sure.

  “Hi, Maggie,” he said in that husky drawl that always melted her like a block of ice on a cook-iron stove. “It’s good to see you.”

  Good? Maybe, if she hadn’t lost her words the same time she lost her air when he leaned in to give her a hug.

  “You look good,” he said quietly, and she supposed he did too, or at least his boots did, given the fact that’s where her gaze was glued.

  Finn cleared his throat. “Blaze, Maggie … Libby and I are going to the ticket office to book two more sleeping cars if we can, so you two go to the waiting room and don’t move.”

  Don’t move? No problem!

  “You know, Maggie,” Blaze said softly, “you’re going to have to look at me sometime because we need to talk, darlin’.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said with a squeeze of lashes, refusing to lose two weeks of perfectly good distance just to be undone by a pair of blue eyes. “You can talk just fine while I stare at your shoes.”

  His low chuckle did as much damage as the gentle twine of his fingers as he tugged her toward the waiting area. “Well, as polished as my new boots are, I think you need to see my face when I tell you how sorry I am.”

  She tried to pull free from his hold while he led her to an empty spot at the end of a wooden pew, wondering if the need to throttle ruled out all the forgiving she’d done. “Oh, you’re sorry all right, cowboy,” she said with a rare pout in her tone, “one of the sorriest men I know.”

  Thumping down on the bench with a firm fold of arms, she scooted several inches away when he reached for her hand. “What do you want, Blaze?” She whirled to face him with fire in her eyes, completely shocked at all the hurt she thought had gone away. “Besides Chanel and a good time?”

  “I want you,” he whispered, locking her hand in his to keep her from moving when he inched closer. “I want your forgiveness, Maggie, I want your friendship, and I especially want your love.” He cupped a gentle palm to her face, nudging her gaze to his. “But more than anything else, Miss Mullaney, I want a marriage with you that will last a lifetime.”

  Tender blue eyes swam before her as water obstructed her gaze, grief lancing her heart with the words she had once longed to hear.

  “Marry me,” he said with a gentle trace of his thumb to her lips, “and I promise to keep you well-stocked in lots of kisses, butterscotch, and love.”

  “Oh, Blaze …” Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared at the cocky cowboy she had never wanted to love, knowing he was everything she’d ever wanted …

  Except the one thing she needed most.

  “Choose a man of deep faith, Maggie, for a strand of three cords is not quickly broken.”

  “I can’t …” Her whisper was laced with pain as she slowly shook her head.

  He stilled her with gentle hands that cradled her face, the intensity she saw in his eyes bleeding into his voice. “Do you love me, Maggie?”

  A single tear glazed her cheek as she memorized every line of his hard-sculpted face, every blink of blue eyes that haunted. “You know I do, Blaze, but—”

  “Do you want me?” His words were both gentle and gruff, followed by a kiss so achingly tender, it almost felt like a prayer. “Because I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And I know you want me, too, because every touch of your lips tells me you do.”

  “Blaze—”

  Reaching into his pocket, he slid onto one knee with a ring in his hand. “Any day of your choosing, darlin’, and you’ll turn the sorriest of cowboys into one of the most blessed.”

  “Oh, Blaze, how I wish that I could …” The diamond glimmered along with the tears in her eyes as she started to shake her head and then stopped. “Wait—did you say”—a gulp bobbed in her throat—“‘blessed’??”

  A slow g
rin eased across his lips as he gave her a wink. “Of course, I’m no expert, but Uncle Finn assures me that’s the correct term for a man who’s made his peace with God.”

  Maggie’s heart stopped cold before it took off in a wild sprint. “You did?”

  “I did,” he said, tilting in to nuzzle her throat before breathing a warm chuckle deep in her ear. “Does that earn me a yes?”

  She slapped two shaky palms to his chest, eyes wide and air shallow. “How? When? I want facts, Blaze Donovan, and I want them now!”

  Chuckling, he shifted to a squat, the ring dangling over his knees. “Pure, unadulterated thievery, Miss Mullaney, of the most insidious kind.”

  “What?” Maggie squinted, waiting for him to continue.

  The light in his eyes dimmed considerably. “You see, it would seem that when a certain ‘respectable’ nurse left town, she took my heart with her. And not just my heart, mind you—my peace, my joy”—a grunt broke from his lips—“my sobriety.”

  Maggie’s eyes circled wide as she put a hand to her chest. “You started drinking?”

  His lips twisted. “‘Drownin’ might be a better term. Two of the worst weeks of my life, Maggie, that I want to blot out forever.” He paused as he searched her face with a look of wonder that fluttered her stomach. “All except one night, that is, when Dash hauled my sorry soul over to Hattie’s Café to sober me up in more ways than one. He bought me food, coffee, and a full serving of faith, personally delivered by none other than Rachel, who,” he said with a deep inhale, expelling it in one long, wavering sigh, “literally saved my sorry soul from a fate worse than death.” His Adam’s apple hitched as he skimmed his thumb down the curve of her jaw. “A life without you, Maggie,” he whispered, “and a life without God.”

  Maggie caught her breath, the sound of it as telling as the moisture that burned hot in her eyes.

  “I know,” Blaze said while he scuffed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Believe me, I was just as dumbfounded as you, that anything could get through this hard head of mine, in addition to a heart of stone as cold as the Sierras.”

  His rugged features softened as he bowed his head, voice laden with a humility she’d never heard in him before. “All Rachel did was tell me the same things you told her, the same things you told me, but it took two weeks at the bottom of a bottle, Maggie”—he peered up beneath lowered lids, gaze repentant as he took her hand—“two weeks aching over the only woman who has stirred me heart and soul, for me to finally ‘hear’ the truth of both your words and Uncle Finn’s.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips, eyes drifting closed as he placed a soft kiss to her palm before meeting her gaze once again. “So you see, Maggie, I’m a man of faith now,” he said with a faint smile, the stark love in his eyes wringing more tears from her own, “and it’s all because of you.”

  A man of faith! Saltwater brimming, Maggie put a trembling hand to her mouth, a sob breaking free that quickly bubbled into a giggle. “Oh, Blaze,” she whispered, snatching the ring with a squeal before she launched into his arms to land them both on the floor, “why didn’t you just say so?”

  EPILOGUE

  “I call the big end of the wishbone!” Sheridan shrieked, acting more like seven than seventeen as she and Shaylee raced into the O’Shea’s brand-new dining room when Gert announced dinner.

  Almost twice as large as Uncle Finn’s supper room, the O’Shea’s elegant dining room was an “extravagance” Aiden claimed to need for his growing family. The statement had promptly burnished his daughter’s cheeks when he gave her and Finn a telling wink, but Blaze couldn’t agree more. Taking Maggie’s hand, he grinned as he ushered her to their Thanksgiving dinner behind Uncle Finn, Aunt Libby, and the O’Shea’s, his heart full over the gift of family and faith. Because once he and Maggie got married the day after Christmas, he hoped to add a few dinner plates to the table as well.

  “Hey, why do you get the big end of the wishbone?” Shaylee asked, freckles in a squint as she plopped into an upholstered, high-backed chair at a linen-clad table set with crystal and china. A fire crackled in a blazing hearth while snowflakes drifted outside a huge bay window, giving the room a cozy air despite its large size.

  “Because Aunt Libby and Maggie don’t need any more luck, but I do,” Sheridan said with a smile aimed in Jake’s direction, who’d been smart enough to take a seat on the other side of the table. Dash and he had laughed and ribbed Jake without mercy over Sheridan’s obvious crush since she was six, but suddenly with their little sister growing up, it wasn’t so funny anymore. At least not to Jake, who now took his suppers mostly in the dining hall rather than dinners with the family like he used to.

  It hadn’t been too long ago that Sheridan had worn pigtails instead of a shapely calico dress, a revolting development that made both her brothers—and Jake—more than a little uncomfortable. Blaze seated Maggie with a quick squeeze of her shoulder, thankful his little sisters now had two strong females to help them be the women they needed to be. His mouth crooked into a grateful smile.

  Respectable.

  “As far as luck,” Aiden said with a wink at Libby, “I suspect Finn could do with a bit of that too.” He seated Maeve, then beamed while taking his place at the head of the table, a new affability spurred on, no doubt, by his daughter’s “official” wedding on Saturday and the occupation of his new home.

  “Papa!” Feigning shock, Libby delivered a mock scowl that Uncle Finn quickly waylaid with a kiss, promptly earning a groan from Shaylee that seemed to trail on forever.

  “Uncle Finn, stop!” the scamp said with both hands over her eyes, “I’m too young to see all this sparkin’ going on.”

  “Get used to it, Shay,” Blaze said with a tweak of her pigtail before he buried a kiss in Maggie’s neck. Both girls’ squeals punctuated the laughter circling the table as Gert and Angus delivered bowls mounded with mashed potatoes and cornbread dressing.

  Sheridan released a long, lovesick sigh. “I can’t wait to be kissed,” she said with a dreamy look, absently spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate while Gert and Angus dispensed yet more steaming bowls of food.

  “Yes, you can,” Uncle Finn, Dash, and Blaze said in unison, the warning in their tones as blatant as the ruddy rash crawling up the back of Jake’s neck.

  Uncle Finn gave her the eye tempered with a hint of a smile. “As well as waiting for prayer, young lady, before you start digging in.”

  “Make room for the bird,” Gert announced in a robust voice, holding the door while Angus toted a golden-brown turkey and placed it on the table. “Both of ’em,” she muttered with a smirk at Angus while slapping the carving knife down next to Aiden’s plate.

  Gingerly moving the knife away from where Gert stood in the French uniform he forced her to wear, Aiden nodded to two empty chairs at the far end of the table. “Gert and Angus, if everything’s on the table, you’re welcome to take your seats while our former host says grace.” He glanced up at Finn with a smile. “Mr. McShane, will you do me the honor of blessing this mouthwatering feast?”

  “With pleasure, sir,” Finn said, bowing his head while the others followed suit, his reverent prayer of thanksgiving to God a reflection of Blaze’s own heart. His uncle’s husky voice filled the room with thanksgiving while gratitude filled Blaze’s soul. He reached for Maggie’s hand and emotion thickened the walls of his throat at how much God had changed his life for the better. Unable to resist a sideways peek at his fiancée, he felt the sting of moisture over just how close he’d come to missing out on the blessings of God.

  The blessings of God.

  Maggie.

  And a Savior who had redeemed his life from the pit.

  When Finn finished his prayer, Aiden stood and picked up fork and knife, rendering a happy sigh of contentment Blaze had never heard out of the man before. “Maeve,” he said to his wife with a smile as bright as the flames flickering in the silver candlesticks, “while I carve this turkey, I think we should
go around the table and toast to something for which we are most grateful.” He bent to press a kiss to her cheek. “You can start us off, darling, and since the people we love are a given, let’s pick something else, shall we?” Positioning the knife at the ridge of the breastbone, he gave everyone a wink. “But only one thing, so choose wisely, and make it fun.”

  Maeve leaned forward with a crease in her brow. “Aiden, have you been into the sherry again?”

  His laughter boomed through the room as he sliced through the turkey. “No, my dear, this is Thanksgiving, so by thunder, we’re going to give thanks!”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Blaze said, looping his arm around Maggie.

  “Well, all right, then.” Maeve lifted her glass to Finn. “I am eternally grateful for good neighbors who aren’t afraid of fire.” She tipped her head to give her daughter a tender look before giving Finn a rare wink, “In any form.”

  “Mo-ther!” Libby’s smile remained intact despite the drop of her jaw.

  Maeve smiled. “Now, darling, fire can be a good thing—just look what it did for us!”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Finn said with a lift of his water glass, tugging Libby close. “And I should know. All right, Shay, you’re up.”

  Squinting in thought, Shay peered around the table with an impish grin before snatching a piece of turkey from Aiden’s platter. “Turkey!” she shouted, flipping the piece into her mouth.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Maggie said with an exaggerated shiver, grinning as she bumped Shaylee’s shoulder. “I thought for sure you’d say Annabelle.”

  “Nope.” Shaylee’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief as she filched another piece of turkey. “Because Annabelle likes turkey too.” Tossing most of the meat in her mouth, she tucked a remaining shred into the bib pocket of her overalls, peeking inside the pouch with a sly grin. “Don’t you, girl?”

  Maggie vaulted into Blaze’s lap with a squeal, arms pasted tightly to his neck while everyone’s laughter ricocheted off the walls. Chuckling, he deposited a kiss to her head as he gave Shaylee a wink. “Much as I prefer this seating for Thanksgiving dinner, darlin’, I’m a little worried I may drop gravy on your dress.”