In His Kiss: Blemished Brides, Book 4

by Peggy L Henderson

  Ellie threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. Lance hesitated before wrapping his arms around her waist. She clearly didn’t find it a problem to kiss him directly in front of her father, and his . . . grandfather. Curiosity burned into him about both of these men, but at the moment, nothing was more important than holding the girl he loved in his arms.

  The two men both chuckled. “Get Patterson to send some men out here to clean up the trash,” Vincent Taggart said, his voice loud and commanding. “Let’s get back to the ranch, Benton. I could use a cup of tea. We’ll leave these two love birds to it. I’m sure they’ll be along shortly, and then we can celebrate.”

  Ellie drew back, smiling up at Lance with love in her eyes. He shot a hasty look at the two men who’d mounted their horses and were riding out of the clearing, then turned his attention back to the woman in his arms.

  “Would you like to stand under a blanket with me Ellie?” he whispered against her cheek. “Then you can tell me everything I’ve clearly missed.”

  She nodded.

  I would love nothing more than to share a blanket with you, Lance Taggart.

  “Thečhíȟila yeló, Ellie Benton.”

  He drew her fully into his arms, and brought his lips to hers. He’d make sure that in his kiss, she would always know love, acceptance and understanding.

  Epilogue

  Lance stepped into the room. A low fire flickered in the hearth, giving off a warm glow to the darkened space. His eyes fell on the woman standing in front of the oval mirror that hung over a dressing table. Steam rose from a teacup sitting on the table, fogging up the glass. She unbuttoned the top buttons of her nightdress, running her fingers along her neck.

  His heart rate increased. The thin material of the gown left little to the imagination. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle, drawing her up against him. He inhaled deeply of the fragrant scent of flowers in her hair, then dipped his head to place a kiss on the scar on her neck.

  “I’m glad we’re finally alone,” he whispered against her ear.

  Ellie turned in his embrace to face him, a soft smile on her lips. She signaled with her hands.

  It was a beautiful wedding, and gathering afterward.

  Lance chuckled. “When I first knew I wanted you to be my wife, I thought the preacher in town could marry us quietly, and maybe we’d have a nice supper in town afterward. I never expected the grand gathering my grandfather, your aunts, and our new friends put together.”

  His hand came up to caress her cheek. He combed his fingers through her loose hair, letting the thick strands glide across his palms.

  Aunt Lizzy actually looked a little happy. It was good for Father to send for her.

  “The open country, and being away from her place of sorrow might help her work through her grief,” Lance offered. “And it was good of Trace’s cousin, Sam Hawley, to escort her. His wife, Emma, certainly seems to like it in Montana.”

  Ellie nodded. Lance leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. He smiled at his bride. She’d met a lot of new people today at their wedding, and she’d never looked prettier, or happier. Over the last few weeks, she’d become close friends with Trace’s wife, and the wives of Cade and Levi Colter.

  Trace’s sister, Sally Mallory, clearly enjoyed arranging fancy get-togethers. She’d been around a lot to help with the wedding preparations even though she’d recently given birth. She’d even tied a large ribbon around Mahto’s neck and managed to teach him to carry a basket of flowers down the aisle. The preacher had turned a blind eye to the dog sitting next to Lance during the ceremony.

  Lance glanced around the bedroom. His and Ellie’s bedroom. If his grandfather would have had his way, he would have built a brand-new mansion on the vast piece of land he’d bought bordering the Patterson ranch. In the end, he’d relented and plans had been drawn up for a much simpler, modest ranch home.

  “I figured it was about time that the Taggart breeding and racing operation expands,” Vincent had said when he’d announced his purchase shortly after his arrival in Montana. “And I have just the man who’s going to run this part of the business for me,” he’d added, looking at Lance. “I’ve heard that they breed and grow good horses in Montana. Probably not as fine as our bluebloods in Kentucky, but with my grandson at the helm, we’ll make a go of it.”

  Trace Hawley and Tyler Monroe had both grumbled that now they’d lost any chance of hiring Lance to work for them.

  “What are you two complaining about?” John Patterson had chimed in with a teasing smile. “I just lost my best trainer.”

  For the first time in a long time, Lance had truly found a sense of belonging. Not since before his mother’s death had he had a real family. Now he had Ellie and his grandfather. His heart had never been lighter, knowing that his father hadn’t abandoned his mother as he’d believed all his life.

  He’d even come to have a deep respect for Ellie’s father, even though the man hadn’t treated his daughter the way she should have been treated all the years after her mother’s death. Grief had made him blind, but he’d finally opened his eyes after Ellie had stood up to him in Kentucky. Wrapped in Lance’s arms, she’d often told him she’d found her courage to make herself be heard because of him.

  Ellie had doted on him like no one else ever had during the final weeks of his recovery, scolding him for doing too much when he should have been resting. Although riding horses had been too difficult while his leg was on the mend, he’d helped in the construction of the new house.

  Many of the neighbors had come to help, too, and Lance had quickly become close friends with Trace Hawley, Jack Kincaid – or Cade, as he preferred – and Levi Colter. Colter owned a woodworking shop and had made much of the furniture that now filled the new house.

  “I still kick myself for not organizing a better search party,” Trace had grumbled on more than one occasion. “I rode right past the road where you got ambushed.”

  “Amos told me he found me a couple miles off the road, so I’m sure Hank and Fred dragged me some distance so I wouldn’t be found. Mahto must have either followed, or they tried to cover all their tracks and dumped him along with me.”

  No matter how hard he tried to remember, the memories of that night were fuzzy at best after the initial shooting and beating. Clearly, Hank and Fred had followed him to the Red Cliff, and then seen him ride away and seized their chance to ambush him.

  Seeing Ellie smile and communicate with her newfound friends over the weeks had brought joy to his heart. Every Saturday, they’d all gotten together and Lance had taught them sign talk. Ellie’s father and his grandfather had participated, as well as John Patterson, and surprisingly, Fiona.

  He’d spent hours listening to his grandfather talk about Henry Taggart and his white heritage. Then Lance had told of his life growing up among the Lakota and at the Indian School. Ellie’s father had been truly remorseful about the raid on the village, but Lance had realized the event had been out of Major Benton’s control.

  “You’ll have to come to Kentucky after the wedding, and pick out the horses you’ll be bringing to Montana,” his grandfather had said the day before. “I always hoped Henry would someday take over the family business after his career in the army was over. Now it’s up to you, Lance.” Vincent Taggart had worn a proud look on his face that day.

  Lance scooped his bride into his arms, and carried her the short distance to their bed. Her mouth fell open in surprise, which was quickly replaced with a smile. She braced against his chest, and motioned with her hands.

  Are you well enough to carry me? Your leg.

  Lance grinned. He winked at her.

  “It’s our wedding night, mitawin. I’m well enough to do most everything.”

  He laughed as her cheeks turned rosy at the implication of his words. He placed her on the bed and leaned over her, grinning down into Ellie’s love-filled eyes.

  Smiling coyly, she raised her hands, hol
ding her index finger in front of her face, then swirled both hands in a sweeping circular pattern so they passed each other, and finally joined both index fingers together and touched them to his lips.

  Then you’d best kiss me, my husband.

  “I’m glad we understand each other,” Lance murmured as he covered her mouth with his.

  Thank you for purchasing and reading IN HIS KISS. I hope you enjoyed the story. To help other readers such as yourself discover new books, please consider leaving a short review on Amazon.

  Join my list of readers, and be treated to exclusive content, specials, giveaways, behind-the-scenes along with new book releases. As a special thank you, you’ll receive a FREE copy of HIS CHRISTMAS ROSE, a Blemished Brides Short Story.

  Other books in the Blemished Brides Series (each book is a standalone, so they do not need to be read in order, but characters from earlier books make appearances in subsequent books)

  In His Eyes

  In His Touch

  In His Arms

  In His Kiss

  Several characters mentioned in IN HIS KISS have their own stories in other series. Tyler and Laney Monroe can be found in my western time travel novel, Ain’t No Angel (from the Second Chances Time Travel Romance Series), and you can learn more about what happened at the Three Elms Farm in Kentucky, and Trace’s Cousin Sam Hawley, in Emma: Bride of Kentucky.

  For a complete list of all my books, please check out my Amazon Author Page.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for purchasing and reading In His Kiss. I hope you enjoyed the story of Lance and Ellie. This book, for me, was a good example of how characters often take over a story during the writing, and lead the way, no matter what the original plan may have been. Lance turned out to be a much gentler hero than I anticipated. I always knew he had great insight into things because of his ability to communicate with animals (which, in my opinion, requires great listening and observation skills), but his mild nature surprised me.

  While writing the book, personal events in my life may also have influenced the direction and tone of the story. The Blemished Brides Series was always intended to be a gentler series without the high action, adventure, survival scenarios, and mild love scenes I usually include in most of my other books; but it surprised even me how sweet this story turned out. Ellie and Lance are a very tender couple. I don’t write love scenes for gratuitous purposes, and there was no reason to include one in this book.

  Sign Talk has been used by Native Americans to communicate with tribes who spoke different languages. The plains tribes never had problems communicating with each other - including complex facts and feelings - due to their unspoken language using only hand and finger gestures. The sign talk of the plains tribes is probably the most highly developed gesture language in the world. While I included some of Ellie’s gestures, I oversimplified many of the movements’ descriptions to avoid bogging down the story. Hopefully I’ve added just enough description to keep it moving forward. The reference source I used is a book called, Indian Sign Language, by William Tomkins.

  Fort Peck was first established in 1867 as a trading post and stockade. It became the Indian Agency for the Assiniboine and Gros Ventre Indians in 1871. The fort was flooded and destroyed by the Missouri River in 1877, and the Indian Agency was relocated at that time. For the purposes of In His Kiss, I took some literary license with describing the fort as a viable cavalry outpost.

  The Carlisle Indian Boarding School in Pennsylvania was founded in 1879, as a government-funded, off-reservation school for Indian children. It became the first of about 26 schools in many states and territories, in an attempt to assimilate Native Americans into white culture in order to ‘save’ them. It was believed that by teaching them Euro-American culture, they would become self-reliant members of society. When the children arrived at the school, their names were changed and their hair was cut, following the motto of “kill the Indian, save the man.” Children were often punished for any Native behaviors or speaking their native language. Between 1879 and 1918, nearly 10,000 Native American children from 140 tribes attended the school, but very few actually graduated.

  I wish to thank my editor, Barbara Ouradnik, for the countless hours helping me perfect the story, not only fixing my grammar and wonky sentences, but also ideas and insights for making the characters and story stronger and the best it can be.

  Also, my group of beta readers for this book - Heather Belleguelle, Lisa Bynum, Sonja Carroll, Shirl Deems, Becky Fetzer - who were the first to get their hands on my chapters, and who supply me with their insightful comments and let me know what works and what doesn’t.