Cowboy Sing Me Home
Page 28
Dusty couldn’t breathe. She backed against the counter with her pie in one hand and her coffee in the other, breathing in peach fumes and staring at Luke.
He took another step toward her and reached to take the coffee and pie from her. “You’re shaking. You’re going to drop this.”
“I’m not shaking,” she said breathlessly. She looked down at the coffee, which danced in its cup. She set it and the pie on the counter and stuffed her shaking hands in her pockets. “What are you doing here?” She’d planned a speech, a monologue, really, to let him know how she felt, to let him – and herself – know that this was her choice, still. Her decision. He’d come after her, and it was all wrong. How would he ever know, now, that it was her choice?
“I told you, I’m not going to let you go. What we have is too special to write off as a fling. This is real and you know it. That’s why you ran. Fine. I’ll come with you. I’ve got some vacation time coming. And if you still want to run, I’ll quit my job, and run with you.”
He reached out a hand and took her by the elbow. She jumped again at the contact, but he held her there, large and warm and solid against her skin that felt like ice.
“It’s too late,” she said numbly.
“No, it’s not too late. It’s not. There’s still a lifetime for us.” He framed her face with his hands. “Dusty, it’s not too late. I love you.”
She felt her face grow hot, her heart pound, and she wanted to throw himself into his arms but couldn’t move. She finally let herself hear the words, let them sink slowly and permanently into her. He loved her.
“Don’t say it’s too late, Dusty,” he whispered, and with his thumb gently wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you. Say it’s not too late.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck there, anchored in her throat by the commingling terror and joy. He loved her.
She took a deep breath and was about to speak when the phone beeped on the counter beside her. They both looked at it.
“I’m in love. Cancel all future engagements. I’m done.”
In the next bubble, Alfie had texted back, “Thank the Lord. I’ve wanted to retire for three years.”
Then, under that, “Go have some grandbabies for me to visit.”
As Dusty read the words, the pent-up emotion burst out in a mixed laugh and cry. She was shaking, tears running down her face, and she watched Luke through tears as he picked up the phone and stared at it, transfixed.
“I meant it was too late to run,” she said, putting her forehead to his. “It was too late to keep from losing my heart. Because I already loved you.”
Slowly, slowly, his gaze turned from the phone and met hers.
“Say it again.”
“I love you. I knew it the moment I heard you’d been shot, but –”
She was going to say more, but his mouth covered hers and made speech impossible. His arms held her so tightly she couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. She wanted to cling to him, to stay in this position forever, to burrow herself into him so deeply he’d never be able to shake her.
His arms tight around her, his lips on hers, he groaned and lifted her, swinging her around until she was dizzy and laughing against his mouth.
“Are you sure, Dusty?” He leaned back, and the fear and hope in his eyes had tears springing to hers.
She nodded. “I’m sure. I must be. I’ve spent the past hundred miles trying to talk myself out of it.”
“There’s no going back now, you know. I don’t want to just date you.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Dusty, will you marry me?” He studied her, his face sober, and it was more of a question than a proposal.
She nodded and whispered again. “Yes.”
“I want kids.”
That one had her heart hitching. “I know.”
“Are you ready for that?”
The old fears sprang up, and she clutched his shirt in her hands, anchored herself with his eyes. “No. I’m not. Not yet. But I will be. I promise.”
“It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“No, I don’t know that. And neither do you. If I knew it, I wouldn’t be so scared right now.”
“But you’re coming back with me, anyway?”
She nodded.
“Say it again.”
“You first.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. “Now, was that so hard?”
She laughed. “I’ve never been so happy and so afraid at the same time.”
“Just keep saying it. Whenever you get scared. If something goes wrong. Just keep saying it. Keep hearing me say it. And we’ll make it through. I won’t ever let you forget it, Dusty, or doubt it. Not for a second. And I won’t ever let you go.”
The End
Thanks so much for reading Cowboy, Sing Me Home! This is the completion of a special journey for me, because Luke and Dusty’s story was the third in a series set in the fictional west Texas town of Aloma. A True-Blue Texas Twosome (Toby and Corinne’s story) and That Kind of Girl (about Colt and Becca) were both published under my pseudonym, Kim McKade, under the Silhouette Intimate Moments label. It is a dream come true for me to finally have the whole gang out there for everyone to meet. I love these characters and I hope you did, too. This story was an especially emotional one, but so satisfying.
Did you know that I’d do just about anything to get you to review this book on Amazon? Seriously. I would wash your car, bake you a nice lemon pound cake, or even paint your toenails. Okay, I won’t actually do any of those things, but I would be so appreciative! Feedback is so important. Please take a moment to click on the link below, log in to Amazon.com, and leave a review. I appreciate it more than I can say!
Kim Hunt Harris
http://www.Amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/write-a-review.html?asin=B00BD4EHZG