She only lightened up when she sang the old Bonnie Tyler song, “Holding Out For A Hero”. Nick had asked her to sing it as a tribute to all the families that had been willing to let their loved ones donate organs. She started the song still ticked off, but somewhere in the middle, she thought about Rossen and all the things he was forever doing for her, and by the end of the song her anger was gone.
They sang two last songs and did a couple of encores, and then she went back down into her dressing room, suddenly weary to the bone. There on the dressing table in front of the mirror was a beautiful bouquet of all kinds of wildflowers. She bent down to drink in the fragrance. It reminded her of high summer back home on the ranch. She wondered why Nick had switched from the roses he always sent.
She was just looking at her hair, wondering how she was going to get the pink out before church the next day, when Nick spoke to her from the doorway. "Hey, you rocker chick, what did you think of your first real concert?"
She looked up at him in the mirror and smiled. "Hey, Nick. Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful. The concert was great! You were right! It is the ultimate rush and I loved it. I'm sorry I was so irritable before hand."
He laughed. "No problem. You're a kickin' guitarist when you're hot! I'm thinking I'll tick you off before every concert!" His tone softened. "You quit being mad in your hero song. Were you thinking about me?"
She turned to look back at him and then looked down. "Honestly, no. I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "I figured it was him again. It's okay. He's too nice a guy to even be mad at."
Kit felt guilty when she answered, "I used to think that, but this morning I'm afraid I was as mad as I've ever been in my life. I probably said a few things I shouldn't have." She could feel herself blush and he laughed at her.
"That bad, huh? Maybe it's a good thing. At least he knows you care enough to be passionately angry."
She gave him a tired smile. "Oh, I imagine he knows that."
He turned to go out the door. "I'll have the car wait in case you want a ride back to your hotel."
Confused, she asked, "Why would I not want a ride back?"
This time it was his smile that was a little tired. "Because the flowers weren't from me."
She watched him turn around and walk away and was wondering what he meant, when Rossen came in to stand nonchalantly against the door jamb just like Nick had. He almost looked like a California pretty boy in his cowboy boots with his matching leather jacket. Their eyes met and held while they both tried to figure out what to say. He finally broke the silence, "You were great tonight." His voice was gentle, but there was something in his eyes that was far from tame.
She suddenly found it hard to breathe and wished she hadn't been quite so forthright with him that morning. Almost shyly, she said, "Thank you. I've been worrying about when I'd have to face you after my tirade. What are you doing here?"
The light deep in his eyes intensified and she glanced away. In a voice that was almost velvet, he said, "Being emotionally honest."
Her eyes flew to his again and she felt almost a little panicky at what she saw there. Hesitantly, she asked, "What about the rules?"
He smiled. "All rules are off when you're dealing with somebody with pink hair."
She put up a hand to touch it. She'd forgotten about the wild streak. "It was not my idea, I promise. It would never have made it there if I'd been paying attention to the stylist and not thinking back on our conversation this morning."
“Conversation. That’s an interesting word.” He walked into the room and came to stand behind her and put his hands into her hair. "Actually, I think it's hot. I think you should leave it there."
She looked up at him in the mirror wondering who this man was who had taken over Rossen's body. "Leave it there? Can you just imagine Gladys Maggleby tomorrow?"
He laughed. "She's been saintly since that incident last winter. She's probably dying for a good head of rocker chick hair." He put his hands through it and then put his fingers on her neck to stroke her skin and softly said, "It's actually going to be very nice to have all the rules off. I hate them, too. I think we should keep the pink hair forever."
She was still staring at him in the mirror, her heart beating thunderously in her chest. He slowly bent his head, watching her eyes in the reflection, then ever so gently placed a lingering kiss on the side of her neck below her ear. His breath on her skin gave her chills to her toes. "What are you doing?" Her voice was low and almost husky when she finally got the words out.
He looked back up at her reflection. "I'm kissing your neck." He went back to nuzzling her and she turned around to look directly up at him.
“What’s going on?”
He put his head down and spoke as he nuzzled her skin again, "You were good enough to struggle through my list for me, I figured the least I could do was work on yours for you. This is the physically intimate part, at least as physically intimate as we can be before we get married." He paused to kiss the other side of her neck and then looked back up. "I'd like to ask you about that, but I'm a bit intimidated. You've already turned down five other guys this week, and I really don't want to be the sixth."
She was looking at him like he'd lost his mind and she honestly wondered if he had. She'd never seen this side of him before. Nervously, she accused, "Now you're lying. You know I'd marry you tomorrow if you wanted."
He stood up to look down into her eyes again. "Tomorrow's incredibly tempting, but I want you forever, so we have to wait until you can go through the temple. Does that mean you'll marry me?"
"Does that mean you're asking?"
He put both hands on her shoulders and then moved one to brush her lower lip with his thumb. "Kit Star, I love you. Would you marry me and be with me forever and ever?"
She was still looking at him, her brighter blue eyes searching his deep blue ones in wonder. "Yes, of course I’ll marry you. I'd be honored." She looked down. "I love you too. I always have. You know that."
He tipped up her chin to face him as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. She'd waited so long for this kiss. He had too. He hugged her tighter and she moved closer to him as it lasted, the warmth of his firm mouth making up for all the wasted months.
His low groan as he finally pulled away to hold her close filled her with sweet heat. He touched his chin to her forehead. "I've wanted to do that for forever."
She leaned back and looked up at him. "Then why did you make us wait so long?"
He pulled her back into his arms again. "I had to Kit, and I'm sorry you felt bullied, but I'd do it again if we had to start over. I had to." He stepped back to look down at her. "You were too infinite of worth to short change. Look me in the eye and tell me the last year hasn't been important to the woman you've become?"
She tried to meet his eyes and finally looked down. "You're right. You always are, darn it! But what's so different about tonight than all these past months? Why can we finally show our feelings now?"
He gave her a sad smile. "Lots of things. Watching you kiss Nick goodbye was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was awful! The other day he accused me of taking away your agency. And every single person I know, you included, has called me a bonehead.”
He paused to kiss her again and then admitted, “But mostly I just knew the raging female I saw this morning was all woman. There was nothing childlike about her." He smiled at her as she looked guilty and then he sobered. "I love you, Kit. And I can't live without you, temper and all." He pulled her close to kiss her again. This time she kissed him back with all the pent up need of the last year.
Finally, he raised his head and his voice was husky as he said, "Come on, honey, we should go. Let's get you back to your hotel. I have a room there, too. Our flight is early in the morning.” He paused to kiss her again, and at length added, “And we need to leave plenty of time to do your pink hair."
Epilogue
Ten weeks later, one year to the day from when he'd baptized her, Ros
sen watched Kit and Mimi Rockland walking across the lawn of the Salt Lake Temple, the spring flowers around them a riot of blooms. Their white dresses showed off their dark hair to perfection against the brilliant emerald of the grass and the gray stone behind them. He was just thinking how lucky he was to have two girls worth far above rubies, when Mimi turned to try to walk toward him with toddling steps as she called out happily, "Dah-eeee!"
The End
About the author
Jaclyn M. Hawkes grew up in Utah with 6 sisters, 4 brothers and any number of pets. (It was never boring!) She got a bachelor’s degree, had a career and traveled extensively before settling down to her life’s work of being the mother of four magnificent and sometimes challenging children. She loves shellfish, the out of doors, the youth and hearing her children laugh. She and her fine husband, their family, and their sometimes very large pets, now live in a mountain valley in northern Utah, where it smells like heaven and kids still move sprinkler pipe.
To learn more about Jaclyn, visit www.jaclynmhawkes.com.
Author’s Note: My mother, who just happens to have delivered eleven children, of which I am number five, was horrified when she read this book and Rossen touched Kit’s pregnant tummy. And she wasn’t just slightly horrified. She was absolutely certain that those incidents should be removed because they were completely inappropriate!
She also considered this book as “moving way to fast in their physical relationship”. At first, I laughed and said, “Mom, they never even kiss until the very last page. C’mon. How is that fast?” It didn’t matter. Because of the unusual circumstances, Rossen, who to me was the most saintly guy on the planet, was a bit of a player to my mother.
I still kind of chuckle at her, but the bottom line is, I guess we all have our own morality yard sticks. With that in mind, to anyone I’ve offended, please forgive me, because after all, this is a romance. Stuff like kissing happens occasionally in romances. And while it isn’t the main story, I happen to think kissing is one of the most vital activities of earth life, and I don’t intend to stop writing about it, or enjoying it, anytime soon. Sorry, Mom.
Plus, I’m willing to bet that even my dear, sweet mother has been kissed once or twice. At least that’s my dad’s story. Yeah, they’ve been busted a couple of times. And she does have eleven kids—that’s a bit incriminating, I’d think! Don’t you? Bless her heart.
Anyway, just don’t tell her how much kissing is in the third book! Of course, we all know that Sean is the rebel of the family, so what can we expect? (But then, so was my dad and my mother seemed to like him a little. This is him, so you’ll understand why.)
Sean Rockland definitely turns out to be the most perfectly, dreamily romantic of the family so far. I love the dancing in the night wind in the woods scene! And in all honesty, I like the kissing parts. Call it a character flaw if you will.
Teasing aside, I hope you enjoy Sean and Lexie in Once Enchanted. They are fun! They’re just hard headed enough to make you laugh before you sigh at the end. They have been one of my favorite books to write, Jaclyn
Peace River Rockland Ranch Series #1 excerpt
Woodland Hills, California
Her running horse could be heard long before she appeared out of the mist. In the half light of dawn and the wisps of fog drifting off the river behind the track there was first the cadenced hoof beats and then the horse’s rhythmic, even breathing. Finally, like an obsidian ghost appearing through a veil, the great black horse materialized and raced ahead, his gait so smooth he seemed to barely touch the earth with each massive stride.
She rode as if she was part of him, their motion fluid, his black mane streaming past her face in the wind to whip against her jockey helmet. He appeared and blew past in a matter of seconds, then disappeared again into the mist where the track curved into the distance. For a moment there was again his breathing and hoof beats, until these too faded into the half light, and it was as if the sleek ebony spirit flying down the track had never been.
Flagstaff, Arizona
The sweet sad strains of ‘This is Where the Cowboy Rides Away’ came on over the PA system as the lights started to come back on in the grandstands. Slade Marsh and Rossen Rockland listened from behind the bucking chutes where they were packing the last of Slade’s bull riding gear. The rodeo was over and the last of the fireworks had faded from the night sky leaving only the sulfurous smell and the mess the local youth groups would clean up first thing Monday morning.
It was the last night of this rodeo, and for both of them, it had been a profitable weekend. Together they’d taken first place in the team roping, and Slade had also been in the money bulldoggin’ and riding bulls. It had been a good rodeo, but now Slade was tired.
He zipped the duffle bag closed and stood up, stretching tired muscles. There was dust on his jeans from where he’d landed in the arena dirt after his ride, and his black cowboy hat would never be the same after being stepped on by a nineteen hundred pound Brahma bull. At least the bull had only gotten the hat. He’d been aiming for Slade.
They stopped to untie their horses from the outer rail and headed back across the rodeo grounds toward the trailer that was home to them on this rodeo circuit. Leather reins in hand, they paused when they realized a street dance was starting up in the area directly ahead of them. Giant speakers that had been set up on the lawn chose that moment to emit a series of crackling static and then throbbing country music. Their horses were veterans of enough rodeos that all they did was twitch an ear and wait to see what the two cowboys would ask them to do.
“We’re old, Rossen,” Slade stated it matter-of-factly. Rossen simply turned to look at him with one eyebrow quirked as Slade went on, “We are. Just look at us. Saturday night, good music, beautiful girls under the stars. And what are we doing? Trying to figure out a way to get past this crowd without being seen, so we can go home, put on some liniment and go to bed. It‘s true. We’re old.”
Rossen grinned. “You may be old at twenty-seven but I’m still only a whippersnapper at twenty-six. I’m in my prime.”
Slade had to work not to limp. “My backside hurts. Actually, most everything I own hurts. I gotta quit riding bulls.”
“Better your backside than your head.” Rossen laughed and added, “Backsides are optional, heads aren’t. Although Jesse probably wouldn’t agree. You’re right. You’d better quit riding bulls.”
Slade groaned and said, “Jesse. Now you can see why we’re avoiding the dance. It’ll be a meat market. Let’s try going through the south parking lot and cutting through the warm-up arena.”
As they trudged across the lot, Rossen said, “Someday, Marsh, we’re gonna meet some girls we actually look forward to being with.”
“I just hope we’re not too old to enjoy them.”
Rossen chuckled. “Hey, we enjoy girls. Sometimes they make us laugh.”
Slade answered in a voice devoid of energy. “Sometimes they just make us tired.”
“Sheesh, you’re negative. I have half a mind to drag you back to that dance just to perk you up.” They skirted a row of cars waiting to exit the parking lot, their horse’s feet clip-clopping on the pavement.
Shaking his head, Slade said, “Can’t dance tonight, I smell like a cow pie.”
Rossen let out a laugh. “I gotta teach you to be more selective on your landings.”
“How ‘bout if you just teach me to stay on until I can jump down nice and easy?”
“How ’bout if I just teach you to stay off the bucking stock?”
They reached their trailer next to the row of stalls where they kept their horses, then tied them up to start stripping their saddles and bridles. After brushing them down and getting them settled for the night, the men headed back to the big six horse trailer with living quarters.
Rossen went in to see about scrounging up a late dinner while Slade loaded their gear into the tack storage, then settled his tall frame on the trailer step to take off his spurs. Rossen’s he
ad appeared inside the screen door. “Nuked pizza okay?”
Slade sighed. “After I learn to dismount bulls, I’m gonna learn to cook.”
Journey of Honor (excerpt)
He pulled up and got off his horse and was just about to speak, when he heard the sound of a cocking gun. The wagon flap moved and the barrel of a pistol appeared, followed by Giselle's head. When she realized who it was, she dropped the muzzle of the gun and took a deep breath, then whispered with her accent. "Oh, Mr. Grayson, you frightened me. I thought you were Henry Filson. What are you doing?"
That's exactly what he was asking himself just about now. "Uhm, you're not going to believe this, but I've come to see if you would consent to marrying me." He put up a hand. "It's just to be able to get you away in the morning, and we'll have it annulled when we get to your valley. It's either that, or stay here and deal with Filson and a trial, and waste more time getting started west."
She looked totally confused for a minute, and then said, "Just a moment." Her head disappeared back inside the wagon cover and he could hear her whispering quietly to someone. Then a bare foot and lower leg appeared through the flaps. He realized she was getting out.
He went forward to help her down and she turned to look at him with big eyes in the darkness. She was wearing a nightgown covered with a long robe and her hair was loose and hanging around her shoulders. She was even prettier than when she'd been all dolled up, and he questioned again to himself what in the world he was doing, while he waited there to see if she was going to laugh or cuss him.
He was completely amazed when she looked up at him in wonder and asked in a soft, sweetly Dutch voice, "You'd do that for me? Really?"
He didn't know what to say to that. He'd never experienced anything in his life that would help him figure out what to do in this situation. Finally, he just said, "Uh, yes. I would. But honestly, it's not being totally unselfish. Without you and your grandparents, we can't leave either until we find someone else to take your place. The army won't let trains of less than twenty wagons start out."
Above Rubies (Rockland Ranch) Page 28