Marrying My Cowboy

by Diana Palmer

  “What signs?” Sam asked.

  “You not telling me stuff, the lack of any wedding crap in your bedroom . . . that kind of thing.”

  “Oh, HW.” She kissed his mouth. “That’s the other thing I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “What?” HW tensed again.

  “The wedding dress bit.” She met his gaze. “My dress was lost in the mail. I’m going to have to borrow January’s. I was . . . a bit upset about it, and I didn’t want to bother you about something so trivial.”

  He regarded her for a long moment. “I’d marry you right now with your hair all mussed up, and your jeans covered in dirt.”

  “I know, which is why I didn’t want to worry you about the dress.” She bit her lip. “It was stupid. I just wanted to look . . . nice for one day in my life.”

  HW let out his breath. “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know, why?” Sam asked.

  HW took out his phone. “It’s eleven o’clock. One hour before we get hitched.” He took Sam’s hand. “Do you think you can stay out of trouble for that long?”

  * * *

  By the time they got back to the barn, it was ten minutes after eleven. One of the ranch hands shooed them both away to get changed and handled the horses. At the top of the stairs of the ranch house, Sam gave HW one last kiss and walked along the hallway to January and Chase’s suite.

  The moment she opened the door, everyone started shrieking at her. Sam gave up the effort to answer them all individually and allowed herself to be thrown in the shower. She then sat in front of a mirror where the extremely unhappy makeup and hair people promised to make her look as pretty as possible in forty-five minutes.

  She let the ebb and flow of chatter roll over her as she considered what had happened so far that day. Her attendants were already dressed and made up, and Avery was distributing the fragrant posies and corsages Daisy had created for everyone. The smell of spring flowers fought the various perfumes making a heady brew Sam happily breathed in.

  “Drink this.”

  Sam blinked as Nancy handed her a glass of wine.

  “Thanks, I need it.” Sam took a huge gulp. “What a day.”

  Nancy grinned at her. She wore a silky dress in her favorite teal and had blue flowers entwined in her silver pigtails. “And they say I’m the troublemaker in Morgantown. I’ve got nothing on you, girl.”

  “I’m retiring from troublemaking and intend to become a very well-behaved, happily married woman,” Sam said piously.

  “Right,” Nancy snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  “Has Yvonne turned up yet?” Sam suddenly thought to ask.

  “Apparently, she’s on her way,” January chimed in from the window seat where she was nursing Chase William. “She’s got Rio with her.”

  “Where did she find him?” Sam wrinkled her nose making the makeup artist sigh. “I thought he was in Vegas.”

  “Yvonne said something about Rio’s father’s company plane, so maybe he picked her up from wherever she went and is bringing her home.”

  Sam sighed. “It must be nice to have a fiancée with a billionaire for a father.”

  “I guess.” January chuckled. “But I can’t complain myself really, can I?”

  The door opened behind Sam, but she couldn’t look round because the hairdresser was directly behind her, and currently had a handful of Sam’s hair.

  “Bonjour!” Yvonne called out. “I made it! How’s everything going?”

  Sam was fairly certain everyone in the room would be more than happy to enliven Yvonne’s day with their various accounts of how Sam had accidentally almost ruined her own wedding day and sent her fiancé into flat despair. She couldn’t quite believe she’d managed it herself, but now all she had to do was hang in there for another half an hour or so, and it would all be over. . . .

  So much for a stress-free small wedding. If she’d eloped to Vegas with HW, what damage might she have done there? She might have taken out the whole city. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Close your eyes, please.”

  Sam did as she was asked and let the professionals do their work. She was surprisingly sleepy and incredibly calm. The emotions of the morning had driven out all her worries about the actual wedding. Her fear of not making the ceremony had made her realize how devastated she would’ve been if she’d not got back in time. Everything else—all the fuss about the dress, and her family, and the occasion meant nothing compared to how much she loved HW. She was looking forward to getting married to her beautiful blond cowboy.

  “Okay, I think we’re almost done.”

  Sam opened her eyes and viewed herself in the mirror. She still looked like herself—but like the best polished, prettiest version of herself there had ever been.

  “Wow. Thank you.” Sam smiled at both the ladies. “Thank you so much!”

  Avery appeared by Sam’s side. “Come and get dressed, and don’t worry about the time. It’s traditional for the bride to be late.”

  “But I don’t want poor old HW getting all nervous again,” Sam objected. “He’ll probably pass out. How long have we got?”

  “About fifteen minutes,” January called out as she dressed the baby in a sailor suit. “You’ll be fine.”

  Sam went into the bathroom to pee and put on the important basics before she got into the wedding dress. She took off her bathrobe and changed her woolen socks for a pair of long white knee-high ones Ruth had knitted specially for her. She needed something between her prosthetic foot and the leather of the boot, and nylon wouldn’t hack it. Her white cowboy boots with silver embroidery were beautiful. She didn’t really look sexy, but HW wouldn’t care.

  She added a new bra and the under petticoat January had obviously ironed for her and went back into the bedroom. Some of her friends had gone down to the wedding venue leaving just her main attendants all wearing dresses in their favorite colors and carrying coordinating posies.

  “Ah, there you are,” Yvonne said. “Come over here by the mirror and close your eyes so I don’t damage your makeup when I put the dress over your head.”

  “Okay,” Sam obliged, shivering as the cold fabric of the dress slipped over her skin. She opened her eyes and blinked hard. “Hey! This isn’t January’s dress.”

  “I know.” Yvonne was beaming at her. “I couldn’t bear to see you trying to be so brave about not having your own wedding dress, so I went and got you this one.”

  Sam smoothed down the frothy skirts as she fought the strange urge to bawl like a baby. “This is the first dress I tried on. The one I loved.” She turned to Yvonne, her skirts swirling around her. “How on earth did you manage this? It’s even the right length.”

  Yvonne made an airy gesture. “I just commandeered my father-in-law-to-be’s private jet, made a stop in Vegas at a shop that stocked the same dress, and got them to alter it immediately. Nothing much.”

  Sam rushed over and gave Yvonne a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That was the most awesome thing to do for me ever.”

  Yvonne kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s make sure it fits properly. Avery is standing by with her needle and thread if you need to make any last-minute alterations.”

  “And I’m quite good at it,” Avery piped up. “I’ve literally sewn people into their wedding gowns.” She helped Yvonne fluff out Sam’s skirts, and took a slow walk around her. “I think this looks good to go.”

  “How does it feel, Sam?” Yvonne asked.

  Sam looked in the mirror. The boat neck of the dress sat nicely over her collarbones and the half-lace sleeves hid the scars left by the explosion on her upper arms. The bodice was fitted, but the skirts were wide with several layers of chiffon, lace, and silk panels cut like the petals of a flower. It was the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen.

  “I love it,” Sam said in a hushed voice. “I look like a cowgirl princess.” She turned to grin at all her friends, some of whom were actually shedding a tear. “Enjoy it whil
e it lasts because I doubt I’ll ever look like this again!”

  Yvonne clapped her hands. “Then perhaps we’d better take some pictures so we don’t forget.”

  * * *

  HW fiddled with the collar of his new shirt again and Ry nudged him.

  “Stop it.”

  “I’m not doing anything,” HW muttered. “What time is it?”

  “Five minutes after twelve. Plenty of time for the bride to arrive,” Ry said soothingly.

  “I’m not sure what’s taking so long,” HW said. “She only has to walk across the yard.”

  “She’ll be here. Don’t worry. Everyone else is in place now.”

  Ry sounded way too confident, but HW couldn’t keep turning around and staring at the assembled guests every ten seconds. He guessed he’d just have to be patient.

  As it was a family wedding, and it was such a beautiful day, Avery and January had decided to hold the ceremony outside in the garden attached to the guest center at the ranch. Rows of chairs framed a center aisle that was laid with a blue carpet. Fragrant flowers surrounded the space, both in the flowerbeds, and in the beautiful arrangements Daisy Miller had provided. Soft music played in the background and everything was perfect.

  Maybe too perfect . . .

  The hairs on the back of HW’s neck rose, as there was a small disturbance at the back of the space. Moments later, the music changed, and an arrangement of “She’s a Little Bit Country” started playing, which made HW want to laugh out loud. He suspected he wasn’t the rock and roll person mentioned in the song, but Sam’s very own country boy.

  Too afraid to turn around in case he spooked her, HW stared fixedly at the Morgantown pastor who was now standing right in front of him. Ry turned and grinned at Sam as she approached the dais on her father’s arm. From what HW could tell, she had a white cowboy hat with a little veil and embroidered silver boots. The rest of her was in white.

  Sam kissed her father on the cheek and stepped up next to HW. In his dazzled eyes she looked like some kind of angel come down to earth.

  “You made it,” HW murmured as a wave of thankfulness rolled over him and he took her hand in his.

  “Duh.” Sam rolled her eyes. “How could you ever have doubted me?”

  Chapter Seven

  Sam smiled up at her new husband as they took to the floor to celebrate their first dance together. After the wedding lunch and way too many speeches, the hall had been cleared to create a sizable dance floor for the guests.

  “Aren’t you glad this is over, Hoss William?” Sam inquired.

  “Damn glad that no one needs to use my stupid name in public again for a long time.” He smiled down at her. “And it isn’t over.”

  “What do you mean?” Sam asked.

  His smile was a thing of beauty. “Our life together is just beginning.”

  “That’s really romantic,” Sam breathed. “Who are you?”

  “Just a man in love.” He gently twirled her in a circle. “And by the way, that dress January lent you? It looks fantastic. I didn’t even recognize it. You took my breath away when you came down the aisle.”

  Sam tried not to laugh, but HW wasn’t a fool.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “When this dance finishes, go and ask Yvonne about this dress, okay?”

  “Not January?”

  “Definitely not January.” Sam smiled up into his golden eyes. He’d gone for fancy western wear for his wedding look, which matched hers perfectly and suited him like a dream. “It’s a bit of a tale.”

  “Like our wedding morning.” His smile was crooked. “I suppose it’s something to tell our kids.”

  Sam snorted. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves here, Hoss. We just got married.”

  The music ended and HW kissed Sam, making everyone in the room cheer and whistle at them. Sam didn’t think she’d ever felt happier in her life. Her family was here—even her baby brother. They’d stuck by her during some of the worst years of her life and helped her regain her strength and independence. She would always be immensely grateful to them for that.

  She’d found a whole new tribe of Morgans, who had accepted her into their lives without question, and she was now married to a man of great worth. Working on the ranch with the horses, the kids with special needs, and the vets with PTSD helped her give back something of herself to those who now needed support.

  So many blessings, so much love . . .

  Sam walked off the dance floor and was immediately claimed by HW’s father, Billy, for the next dance. For quite a while she was busy and didn’t see much of her bridegroom, who was being swamped by the ladies in his life. She didn’t mind sharing him just a little bit, but as the night wore on, she found herself missing him more and more.

  Coming back from a trip to the restroom, which had been something of an experience in itself, she bumped into her bridegroom in the reception area of the center. For the first time all day they were actually alone.

  “Are you okay, Sam?” HW eyed her flushed face. “You were gone so long I was starting to worry.”

  “I just had to pee, and let me tell you, HW, getting myself, this dress, and all my underthings into that tiny stall was a sight to behold!”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah, I can see that.” He tilted his head to one side. “Ah, you might want to do something about the skirt at the back before you scandalize our guests.”

  Sam reached around and encountered a huge wad of fabric sticking out from her butt like a feathered tail. “Oh Lord! It must have gotten stuck in my spandex!”

  HW started laughing, grabbed her by the hand, and whisked her into one of the business offices that lined the hall.

  He framed her face in his hands and kissed her. “Never change, Sam Kelly Morgan. Promise me that.”

  She frowned at him. “How about you help me with my dress, and we get to the lovey-dovey stuff in a minute?”

  “Okay, turn around.”

  She presented him with her rear. “I think the top skirt has gotten caught up in the petticoat.”

  “Yeah.” She waited, but nothing else happened. “To be quite honest, Sam. I don’t know where to start.”

  “How about you try and extract the top layer of the dress?” Sam suggested.

  “Got it.”

  She craned her neck to look over her shoulder as he carefully released each delicate panel.

  “It really is a beautiful dress, Sam,” HW murmured as he worked. “I’m glad Yvonne went and found it for you.”

  “It was very sweet of her and I’ll never forget it,” Sam reassured him.

  “You could’ve told me, you know.” He looked at her, his amber gaze serious.

  “In retrospect, I wish I had.” Sam sighed. “But knowing our luck, if you’d gone to get the dress, you would’ve ended up stranded in Vegas or something. How’s it going back there?”

  “I’ve released all the top skirt, so you should be able to untangle the petticoat from your underwear now,” HW said.

  “I’ve got a better idea. I hate this stuff.” Sam grabbed hold of a wedge of spandex. “I’m taking it off. Don’t look.”

  By the time she’d puffed and panted her way out of the clingy undergarment, HW was laughing so hard he was wiping his eyes and sitting on the floor at her feet. She grinned down at him.

  “There goes my feminine mystique.”

  “Like you’ve ever been shy around me,” HW replied. “That was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Do all women do it like that?”

  “Not much choice,” Sam muttered. “I’m burning that thing tomorrow.”

  “Please don’t. I haven’t watched you put it on yet.”

  Sam bent down to pick up her lace panties, which had also ended up on the floor, but HW was faster.

  “Hey! Give them back!” Sam protested.

  “Not a chance.” HW stuffed the panties in his pocket.

  “But now I’ve got nothing on under my dress except my socks,” Sam comp
lained.

  “Exactly.” HW came toward her, picked her up, and sat her on the edge of the desk. He pushed her thighs wide, and she held her breath.

  “Oh.”

  He sank down to his knees, and very gently lifted her gossamer skirts.

  “Beautiful.”

  Sam gathered up the panels of her dress and drew them to one side. “Does this help?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He slid his hands up her inner thighs making her shudder as he leaned in and kissed her mound. “The most amazing sight in the world.”

  “Better than my actual face?”

  “Just different.” He let out his breath. “I’ve been thinking about tasting you all day.”

  “Then don’t let me stop you,” Sam reassured him.

  He flicked her bud with his tongue, and she shuddered with longing. With a satisfied sigh, he set to work proving to her yet again the amazing things he could do with his mouth and fingers. She cupped the back of his head as he nuzzled her most sensitive flesh and then grazed her with his teeth.

  “HW . . .” she gasped, and climaxed in long waves as he waited her out. “That’s just . . .”

  She opened her eyes as he stood and stepped away from her.

  “Where exactly are you going?” Sam asked.

  He studied her. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About what?” Sam demanded.

  “All the crap you’ve put me through today.” His slow, sexy smile made everything inside her stand to attention. “I think I’ll make you wait awhile.”

  “For what?”

  “Me.” He blew her a kiss. “You can last another hour, Sam, can’t you?”

  “You—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, he winked at her and strolled out. It took her a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t coming back, and that he still had her panties in his pocket.

  Sam scrambled down from the desk, found her abandoned spandex, and dropkicked it into the trash can. Sometimes HW Morgan could be extremely annoying, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time.

  * * *

  “There you are, HW.”

  Sam came toward HW, a smile on her face that immediately made him nervous. Mind you, he’d just walked out on her mid-foreplay, so he probably should be worried. He’d retreated to the bar end of the room, and was sharing a quiet word and a beer with his twin while he waited for his raging hard-on to subside.