A muffled sound makes them turn towards the door where they see Rebecca standing, looking a little stunned.
“I-I am sorry….I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation.”
“It is alright, Rebecca. I was just telling Henry that-”
“Mother, love can never be forced upon someone. If Henry does not love me, it is perfectly alright! I can’t force him to love me back just because I love him. I am sure he has his reasons,” Rebecca says, trying hard to control the tears threatening to fall any moment. She turns towards Henry and says, “Henry, I came here to tell you that I am carrying your child. As you reminded me earlier that ours is a marriage of convenience and you married me for an heir, well, once your heir is born, I shall no longer be able to live on the estate…” As she says these words, the entire room starts spinning in front of Rebecca’s eyes. The last thing that she sees is Henry rushing towards her and gathering her in his arms.
Chapter Eleven
“Open your eyes, sweetheart!”
Rebecca slowly opens her eyes to find herself lying on Henry’s bed. His worried face looks down at her and Lady Elizabeth stands by his side.
“Are you feeling alright?” says Henry’s concerned voice.
“Yes, thank you,” she says rather stiffly. Henry can sense that she is angry with him.
After fussing over her for about half an hour, Lady Elizabeth finally says, “Rebecca, ah…Henry wants to tell you something. I shall leave you both alone for the time being. Are you sure you are feeling better?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Henry, make sure not to stress her any further,” she orders her son and leaves the room.
As the door closes, Henry sits beside Rebecca and holds her frail hand. She resists a little initially, but then lets him hold it.
“Rebecca, I have to tell you something. Eight years ago, I fell madly in love with a girl named Charlotte. She was a commoner, a local trader’s daughter.” Rebecca is stunned at the revelation. She strains her head to look at Henry and finds a pained look on his face.
“I loved her more than anyone in the world, and she loved me too. At least that was what she always made me believe…One day I caught her in a …..let’s say a compromising situation with one of our estate’s kitchen staff!” Henry hears Rebecca gasp at his words. He looks down at her and smiles sadly. “I was completely shattered. I had gone against my parents’ wishes by falling in love with her and there she was, betraying my trust! I was completely shattered. I made a promise to myself that day that I’d never ever make the mistake of falling in love again.”
“Oh! I am so sorry…..I didn’t know…..” Henry puts a finger on her lips to silence her.
“But, my dear…here I am! In love with the most incredible woman I’ve ever known! The one who made me forget my promise and got under my skin before I had the chance to realize what was happening. The woman who makes me go crazy with desire every time she touches me, the woman whom I missed like crazy these past days…the woman who is bearing my child…..our child,” says Henry with moist eyes as he moves his hands over her belly reverently.
Rebecca’s eyes are overflowing with tears of joy. Her marriage of convenience has turned out to be the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to her!
THE END
Cowboy Romance
Sally and Evan: Clean Slate
Book One
Rose Haven
Sally and Evan: Clean Slates
Casey Bishop
Casey Bishop sat in the hallway of the courthouse, waiting to be called for her testimony. Her palms were sweaty and her stomach, though empty, rolled and pitched. It was all she could do to keep the piece of toast she’d managed to choke down this morning from coming back up. She knew she was doing the right thing, the only thing she could do to right her wrongs and start a new life. A life free of Joey Masso. The only man who’d ever claimed to love her.
“Miss Bishop, they’re ready for you,” the bailiff said, holding the massive oak door open for her. Casey rose on wobbly legs and walked into the courtroom careful to look straight ahead. The prosecutor had warned her against looking at Joey for fear that she’d lose her nerve. She took a deep breath and continued forward toward the witness stand, feeing Joey’s eyes burn holes into her back as she passed him.
She reached the witness stand, the bailiff gave her the oath, and she sat, still careful not to look at the defendant’s table where she knew Joey sat staring hard at her. The prosecutor walked slowly toward her, offering her a reassuring smile before launching into his line of well-rehearsed questions.
“Miss Bishop, can you please tell the court how you know the defendant, Mr. Masso,” he began.
For the next forty minutes Casey was peppered with questions about her relationship with Joey, her boyfriend since the age of fifteen, her knowledge of his drug dealing and any role she had in his illegal activities. She admitted to knowing that Joey started selling pot at sixteen and moved onto cocaine by eighteen. How, at the ripe old age of twenty-three, he’d become the primary dealer in their small south Chicago neighborhood and was poised to take over the heroine distribution from some really big, really bad guys. She denied any direct involvement in selling, packaging, or transporting the drugs but was forced to admit that she did nothing to stop any of it either. She’d lived the lifestyle the money had afforded: nice clothes, nice dinners, nice cars. In the end, however, she’d grown wary of always looking over her shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d become tired of waiting for the police to kick in their door, or worse, for the rival dealers to do the same. When the federal agent had shown up at the library where she was studying for her chemistry final one year ago tomorrow and offered her a way out, she’d barely hesitated. Even if it meant losing the only “family” she’d ever known.
Casey had been orphaned at four, raised by her mom’s alcoholic sister and her loser husband. She had spent the next eleven years keeping a low profile, careful not to invoke the wrath of her aunt on a bender. She’d been clothed, fed and educated but never loved. Until she’d met Joey. They had been sophomores when they met and Casey had allowed herself to be swallowed by his attention like an affection-starved puppy. He’d promised her all of the things she felt her life lacked and she’d stayed in his cocoon for eight years. And now she was blowing it all to hell.
Sally Andrews
Casey stared out the window of the plane mentally getting acquainted with her new life. I am Sally Andrews, I grew up in Indianapolis, I decided to trade city life for fresh air… she repeated to herself over and over again. After her testimony against Joey, her life had become a whirlwind. He’d been sentenced to twenty-five years to life in prison, she’d been ushered to a safe house, given a new identity, and bundled onto a plane to Oklahoma. As the plane descended she felt her nerves start to buzz again. She was alone and even through all of the assurances the United States Marshal’s Service that she would be safe, she still woke in a cold sweat at night, sure she heard Joey at her door.
She stepped off of the plane into the small airport and was met by Deputy Marshal Susan Fields, a tall black woman with a kind smile and alert eyes. She ushered Casey to a waiting car and they began the drive toward her new home of Pawhuska, a small ranching town.
“I’ll be your point of contact if you should need anything,” Deputy Fields was saying, as Casey watched the dusty landscape pass by the windows. She was taken to a small apartment above a local bar which had been rented for her by the Marshal’s Service and was told the owner’s name was Buck Carter.
Buck. You didn’t meet too many people in Chicago named Buck. Casey was beginning to feel like she was dropped onto another planet. She gathered her small duffle bag and walked into the bar to introduce herself and get her keys. Might as well find a job while she was at it, she figured. Casey walked into the bar and stood just inside the door letting her eyes adjust to the dim light inside. The place was relatively small with seats for six at the bar and
a scattering of tables arranged around what appeared to be a small dance floor centered by a jukebox currently wailing some country song about lost love. Casey approached the bar and a skinny man in his sixties with a ponytail and a lazy left eye straightened from his task of stocking the beer coolers.
“May I help you,” he asked in a gruff voice.
Here we go, Casey thought.
“Yes. I’m Sally. Sally Andrews,” she said and the name sounded foreign on her tongue.
“Ah yes, my new tenant,” Buck said. “City girl, eh?”
Casey was taken aback at first but then realized her lack of southern accent and her current attire of yoga pants and Sketchers gave her away. She added clothes shopping to her mental checklist. If she was going to try to blend in, she needed some cowboy boots STAT. She made small talk with her new landlord and was grateful that he didn’t ask many questions. He seemed to understand that she liked her privacy.
“There’s not much up there,” Buck started. “A small table, a few chairs, a couch and a bed. No TV but there’s a radio, fridge and oven. Not very pretty or nothing but it’ll keep you warm and dry.”
“That’s ok,” Casey replied. “I don’t need much. Except maybe a job. You know of anywhere that’s hiring?”
“Well actually, I’m looking for someone to replace my bartender Rosie. She goes back to college in Tulsa in a few weeks. You ever done anything like that,” Buck asked.
“I used to do some waitressing in high school,” she replied.
“Well then, you’re hired,” Buck stated.
Casey was, again, surprised. “Just like that,” she asked.
“Well seein’ as you’ll be livin’ upstairs, I suppose I’ll know where ta find you if’n you don’t show up one day,” he said with a smile.
“Very true. Well thank you sir. When should I start,” she asked.
“What’s today, Sunday? How ‘bout you come in Friday? Take a few days to get yourself settled and learn your way around town? And Sally? ‘Sir’ makes me sound too respectable, call me Buck.”
“Sounds great Buck. Where’s the nearest grocery store?”
Evan
Sherriff Evan Cole strode into his office on Monday morning, the smell of the brewing coffee setting his stomach rumbling.
“Mornin’ Leeann,” he greeted his dispatcher with a tip of his Stetson.
“Mornin’ Sherriff,” she replied, getting up to fetch his coffee.
“Anything I need to know about,” he asked.
“The mayor’s secretary just came by and dropped off the new budget proposal for you to look over,” Leeann said, following Evan into his office and setting his coffee on the desk.
“Great, can’t wait,” Evan growled. “You’d better keep the coffee coming if you expect me to stay awake reading that damn thing.”
Evan folded his large frame into his chair, shuffling through the few messages on his desk before grabbing his coffee mug and leaning back to prop his long legs up on his desk. He grabbed the budget report and began to leaf through it. He hated this part of the job.
Originally from Texas, Evan had grown up on a ranch. His parents had struggled to make ends meet until one of the local oil companies had asked to drill a test site on their land. Evan remembered standing next to his father, mimicking his stance, arms folded across his chest. He was nine years old. He watched the big drill pierce the ground and thick, rich, black oil bubbled to the surface. It was the only time in Evan’s life he’d seen his father genuinely smile.
Things looked up for their family after that, his father was able to purchase newer and better equipment, more horses and more cattle and the money never seemed to run out. Their happiness lasted only five short years until Evan’s mother, Marie, fell ill and died. Evan was fourteen. His father, unable to drag himself from the despair of losing his wife, sold the ranch in Texas and moved Evan to Oklahoma. He bought a ranch there almost three times the size of the one in Texas and spent his remaining years attempting to work himself into an early grave.
At seventeen Evan altered his birth certificate and joined the Army. He wanted out of the big, empty house, he wanted to see the world. He saw Afghanistan. At the end of his second tour, he was called home. His father was dying. By then, he’d seen enough death he didn’t expect the site of his sickly father to bother him. They’d never been particularly close even before his mother had died. But when he came home and stepped into his father’s bedroom, he felt as though his legs might give from under him.
His father had been a big man, as tall as Evan’s six feet four, but heavier around the middle. Now though, John Cole looked small and shriveled under his blankets and it was all Evan could do not to stare slack-jawed at the older man. Right there, Evan decided not to reenlist at the end of his contract and came home to care for his father.
He took on the daily duties of the ranch with the help of the guys who’d been working for his dad for the past several years while he’d been away. He worked hard during the day and slept harder at night. He looked in on his father and called in every doctor and nurse that he could find. John Cole died six months to the day of Evan’s coming home. Evan was twenty-five. After that he worked even harder, his way of grieving the father he never really knew.
He spent the next few years working the ranch and frequenting the local bar, Buck’s. After breaking up more than a few a few fights and setting a few too many drunken ex-boyfriends straight, he was asked to run for Sherriff. And so just two months shy of his twenty-eighth birthday, Evan Cole was elected Sherriff of Pawhuska, Oklahoma. After the first year of running both the small police force and the large ranch, he decided to leave the day-to-day of the ranch to Colby, his trusted manager and he focused on the policing.
Evan looked up from the budget report and rolled his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to refocus but the words on the page kept blurring together. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the report onto his desk and looked out the window of his office. From where he was he could see most of the main strip. The barber shop, the small clothing boutique, the hardware store and Minnie’s Diner stretched out in a row in front of him. He watched the people of Pawhuska wander from one place to the next, never in any particular hurry, and realized that he was truly happy here. He was about to stand up and see what his deputies were up to in the outer office when a woman walking down the street caught his eye.
Sally
Casey took her two small bags up the back stairs to the small apartment above Buck’s bar.
Sally, your name is Sally now, she mentally scolded herself. She was going to have to stop thinking of herself as Casey if she was going to pull this new identity off. From now on she was going to start thinking as Sally, acting as Sally, being Sally. She unlocked the door and stepped into the small space. Buck was right, there wasn’t much to it. The kitchenette had an island counter, the fridge, oven and toaster Buck had promised. She peaked into a cupboard and saw a small stack of dishes, a few cups and a frying pan. A look in the drawer under the counter offered a set of silverware. Against the opposite wall, under a window sat a small wooden table with two mismatched chairs. The rest of the main area opened to a small living room with a couch and a rocking chair. She walked down a short hallway where she found a small but clean bathroom and a bedroom. The bedroom had a bed and a dresser which was slightly dusty and lace curtains that looked as if they may have at one time been white.
Home sweet home, Sally thought as she dropped the two bags with all of her earthly possessions onto the bed. She sat down and surveyed her new home. It was a far cry from the luxury she’d enjoyed the past few years but she felt calm here. Almost at peace. The feeling was foreign to her and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. Her life had been anything but peaceful from the time her parent’s had died. Sally decided not to dwell on her thoughts and set about making a list of things she would need for her new life.
She walked the short distance into town, grateful that everything was so clo
se at hand since she didn’t yet have a car. Her first stop was the small clothing store where she purchased some jeans, t shirts, tennis shoes and that pair of cowboy boots she had thought about when she’d first walked into Buck’s. Next she went to the used book store and found a few interesting looking volumes to purchase. She figured she’d need something to occupy her mind until she could get a small TV. From the book store, Sally walked a short block to the grocery store, buying a few staples she’d need in the kitchen plus some basic cleaning supplies.
When her arms were laden with all of her purchases, Sally began the short walk back to the apartment.
“Can I help you with some of that ma’am,” a voice drawled from behind her.
Sally turned to see a very tall, very handsome man standing behind her with a friendly smile on his lips and his hands on his hips. She looked him over quickly and her heart settled down some as her eyes caught on the silver star clipped to his belt.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw you with all these bags and thought I’d help. Sherriff Evan Cole,” he said, tipping the brim of his hat toward her.
“Sally Andrews,” she replied. “Thanks for the offer but really, I’ve got it.”
“You’re new here, yes? Living over at Buck’s?”
Sally panicked slightly. How did he know about her already? She’d only been in town a total of six hours.
Evan saw her hesitation to answer and noticed the way her eyes darted everywhere but at him. He realized he’d spooked this mysterious stranger. He flashed her a reassuring smile and tried again.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The Unforgettable Billionaires: The Complete Collection Boxed Set 1-12 (Young Adult Rich Alpha Male Billionaire Romance) (Alpha Bad Boy Billionaire Romance) Page 116