“You weasel,” she yelled. Her hand landed on the side of his head, leaving his ear ringing. “Do you know how much you scared me?”
“Ow!” Grabbing her arms, he rolled on top of her. God, he loved her. Every gorgeous, enraged inch of her.
“You infuriating, maddening ox.” She wiggled a hand free and grabbed a handful of his hair.
“Ouch. Sweetheart, easy.” He got hold of her wrist. With her one cheek bright red against the green of her eyes and the blond of her hair, she looked like the sweetest angel in the universe, but—cripes!—she had a good grip.
“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, you louse.”
She pushed against his chest, catching him by surprise.
She rolled away from him. He made a lunge for her, but ended up with a fistful of her shirt. She stopped rolling when it ripped. On her stomach on the ground, looking back at him over her suddenly bare shoulder—her lips red and swollen, her green eyes intense she looked like an adolescent boy’s wet dream, like Woman Incarnate with long legs parted, rounded bottom covered by tight denim and half of her beautiful back exposed. Her hair spilled across her upper back. She shrugged her pale bare shoulder. Her lacy pink bra strap fell down her arm.
With that simple, careless, sexy as hell movement, she tempted him. He lunged for her. They lost control and were on each other, kissing, licking, rolling, tearing at clothes, until they lay naked on the prairie floor, surrounded by nature. This is right, Hank thought as he lay on top of Amy. Here, like this, in this place.
He looked around them, at the tall grass that masked them from the world, arching his neck to view the blue sky above that witnessed their lovemaking.
To whoever lives up there—God or Yahweh or Buddha or Supreme Being—thank you.
He lowered his gaze to the woman beneath him, watching him with her quiet, fine-grained intelligence. Precious. Unique. His.
“I love you,” Amy said, with her heart shining in her eyes.
“I know,” he said, suddenly serious. “I love you. I will marry you. Today.”
He entered her slowly, steadily. She gripped him with her muscles, squeezing him with an exquisite sensation almost too beautiful to bear.
“Welcome home,” they both whispered.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“WE WON’T GET MARRIED today.” Amy lay in Hank’s arms, sated and supremely, unreasonably, insanely happy. “We need to plan a wedding.”
Hank groaned. It rumbled from his chest to resonate against hers. “Not a big one,” he said. “I hate those things. Are you going to make me wear a tux and stand at the front of the church looking like a penguin?”
“I should, just to make you miserable,” Amy answered. “You deserve it after the stunt you pulled on me.”
“Which stunt? This one?” Hank asked, pressing his newly burgeoning erection against her belly.
“Not that.” Amy chuckled. “You know what I mean. That was a cruel trick.”
“I know.” Hank sobered. “I was mad at you for running away.”
She kissed his chest. “I’m sorry. It will never happen again.”
Hank tucked her head under his chin.
She scratched her buttock. “This grass is itchy.”
Hank’s chest shook with laughter. “You got an itch that needs scratchin’? I’m your man, little lady.”
She ran a finger over his lips, then pressed her palm against his stubbled cheek. “You need a shave.”
He smiled and his eyes disappeared. She treasured his dear, honest face, with his strong jaw and bushy mustache, his mischievous eyes and perpetually lurking smile.
“Hank Shelter, you have been my salvation. I was so lost when I came here.”
“Naw, you weren’t really lost. Just a little confused.”
“Well, I’m unconfused now and ready to take control of a few matters.”
His expression became wary. “Like what?”
“Like inviting a few guests to our wedding.”
“Do you really want a big wedding?”
“I want to invite our families and friends.”
“That won’t be so big, then.”
“Yes, it will, Hank. I have a lot of friends.”
“You’re going to invite a bunch of your city pals?”
“Yes, most of these people will be from the city.”
“They’re not going to want to come out to watch me stand at the front of a country church.”
Hank looked so miserable, Amy thought she’d better be kind. “We won’t have the wedding in a church. I’d like to have it here on the ranch.”
He didn’t answer for a minute. She could tell by his lowered eyelids and his mouth tightening into a line and his hands fisted against her back that a strong emotion gripped him. When he looked back at her with shining eyes and an enormous smile, she knew it was happiness.
“Let’s go get started on that guest list,” he said.
“Don’t worry about the guest list. I’ll handle it.”
They got dressed, then started back to the ranch, holding hands and discussing money.
“Hank, you don’t get it, do you?” Amy suspected this was what a good old-fashioned mosey felt like, wandering through tall grass in the evening while the sun set behind the trees.
Hank held the torn section of Amy’s blouse closed with a hand on her shoulder.
Zeus trailed behind them, every so often nudging Hank’s shoulder to rush him to the stables and the horse’s dinner.
“I am very, very good at what I do,” Amy continued. “Even beyond the accounting, I know stocks and bonds. I know how to mix investments so there’s growth without exposing the principal to too much risk. I’ve done it for myself and my money is now yours. The ranch is safe.”
Hank threw back his head and hooted. “Jamie,” he yelled, smiling to the sky. “We’re back in business.” He looked at her seriously. “You’re sure the ranch will be okay?”
“Yes. I will do everything in my power to protect it.”
She stood on tiptoe. “And you,” she whispered, kissing him. “Let’s go plan a wedding, cowboy.”
THROUGH THE WINDOW in her small attic bedroom, Amy watched for Hank to come riding across the fields that stretched clear to Hungry Hollow. She’d made him stay at the neighboring ranch for the past three days, swearing the entire community to secrecy on pain of death. She’d arranged a stupendous surprise for Hank. Stupendous. What a great word. She laughed. The man was rubbing off on her.
Elation. Another great word, and no better one to describe what she felt on her wedding day. Pure, unadulterated elation.
She strained to see into the distance. Still no sign of him. Oh, Hank, it’s time to come home.
Sun beat onto the fields and a mild breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees.
Amy turned from the window when she saw a cloud of dust rise in the distance. He was coming!
The narrow, elegant skirt of her dress whispered around her knees as she scooted downstairs. Her heart beat hard enough to bounce out of her chest. What would he think of her surprise? Pulling the front panels of her silk jacket together, she buttoned it before stepping outside.
Leila stood beside the minister under the weeping willow, waiting for Amy to join her. Janey stood on Leila’s other side, every piercing filled with white pearls Amy had given her. Mom, Willie and Hannah sat in wicker chairs facing forward. Mom smiled when she saw her, Willie stuck a finger into the neck of his dress shirt to pull it away from his throat while pretending to gag, and Hannah grinned, sending a few rivers to crisscross with a few mountain ranges on the wrinkled map of her face.
The chairs behind them were filled with ranchers and ranch hands from the neighboring community and the townspeople of Ordinary.
When Amy looked beyond the chairs, her breath caught in her throat. She’d known her surprise for Hank would be good, but she’d had no idea just how emotional it would make her. Fanned out around the yard, across the driveway and into the fields stood hundre
ds of kids and young adults, each and every one wearing the white Stetson Hank had given them when they’d come to stay on the ranch—some as recently as this past summer, some as far back as fifteen years ago, when Hank had started this whole venture.
A young man in the front row smiled at Janey, the two silver studs in his bottom lip winking in the sun. Janey blushed and dipped her head with a shy smile.
Amy’s elation rose in her chest. Love is in the air.
She rushed to the spot beside Leila in front of the minister, inhaling the essence of the ranch, satisfied to be home here where she belonged.
“He’s coming,” she called above the hubbub of the crowd.
The crowd cheered and clapped.
“Shh. Shh. He’ll hear,” Amy said. Everyone laughed.
“He’s gonna know about it in a minute, anyway,” Willie called out.
“You be quiet, Willie,” Leila said.
Willie scowled but must have seen something on Leila’s face to make his eyes widen.
Amy took a peek at Leila’s face and was stunned by the heat she saw there. She turned back to Willie. He closed his mouth and sat back with a smug grin on his face.
She had so much good news to share with Hank in their future together.
Love is in the air.
She watched Hank ride around the corner of the house and draw Zeus to a halt, while the crowd turned to watch him. She knew the moment Hank realized exactly which “friends” Amy had invited to the wedding. His jaw dropped while he stared at the sea of white hats. One hand clenched into a fist, while the other rubbed his chest over his heart.
Her eyes misted over and she blinked furiously to clear them. She wanted to catch every nuance of emotion on Hank’s face.
He pulled a white cotton handkerchief from his back pocket, took off his hat and wiped his forehead, swiping at his eyes as he went. Setting the hat back onto his head, he sat still with bowed head, the brim hiding his face.
When Hank lifted his head and met her gaze across the lawn full of guests, they were suddenly alone. With his eyes, he telegraphed the depth of his love for her, a love far deeper than any she’d ever known, and in that moment, she knew she was the luckiest woman on earth.
Someone clapped. Another person joined in, then another, and another, until the breeze on the Sheltering Arms ranch erupted with a thundering cacophony of love and respect for this man who had given these young people hope in their most desperate and vulnerable moments.
Hank dismounted and handed the reins to a ranch hand. As he walked the narrow gap left for him through the crowd to the lawn, he shook hands, touched arms, tapped shoulders, caressed young heads.
The only sounds now were the gentle murmurs of Hank’s “kids” as they greeted him, the most common refrain a heartfelt thank-you.
Amy wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
One of Hank’s former guests, now a virtuoso on the violin, started to play “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” A hush settled over the crowd as the sweet, high strains floated on the gentle breeze.
Joy. Amy remembered her first day on this ranch, when she was sure she would never again in her life feel joy.
She knew the lyrics, hummed them to herself.
Hank started down the verdant aisle under the weeping willow to join her.
Yes, finally. Amy wanted to grab hold of life with both hands and trumpet to the world that she had fallen in love with a wonderful man who had, by his example, taught her courage. True courage. She hoped to continue the lesson for the rest of her life.
As Hank approached wearing his black dress pants, white shirt with black string tie and spotless white Stetson, she stared into his eyes—those dark brown, whiskey-highlighted mirrors of his beautiful soul that, at the moment, shimmered with more love than she thought one man could hold, and all of it hers. Then he took her into his arms and, before every living person who mattered to them, kissed the daylights out of her. All of him, hers. Every big, gorgeous inch of him.
He left her breathless, barely able to respond to the ceremony that followed or to the minister’s questions.
“Wilt thou take this man—”
“Yes!” Yes, yes, yes!
Hank and Amy turned as one, partners for life, and the crowd whooped with screams of delight.
Almost every man, woman and child whom Hank had ever touched with his loving compassion threw their white Stetsons into the air, where they hovered and cavorted on the breeze like playful doves, set free by the love and sheltering arms of a remarkable man.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3488-2
NO ORDINARY COWBOY
Copyright © 2009 by Mary Sullivan.
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