by Cindy Kirk
The outside air was a few degrees cooler than when she’d arrived, but Mitzi relished the cool breeze against her hot cheeks.
She took a deep breath and turned so she faced him head-on. “I realize I’m far from perfect—”
“Mitzi, don’t—”
“You need to know I’ve been called an arrogant, self-absorbed person who thinks she’s too good for everyone else.” Mitzi was determined not to sugarcoat. If he eventually chose to be with her, he had to know what he was getting. “My mother thinks I’m uppity. She—”
“Stop. Right. There.” Keenan’s hazel eyes flashed. “I won’t tolerate lies.”
“Facts. Not lies.”
“Lies,” he repeated, his gaze fixed on hers. “If you were relaying facts, you’d talk about a girl who overcame tremendous odds to achieve her dream. A girl who did it by focusing on her goal, by not letting anything or anyone deter her. I say she’s justifiably proud of her accomplishments, not uppity.”
Tears stung the backs of Mitzi’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. “If you think I’m so great, why walk away from me?”
Before answering, he took off his jacket and handed it to her. Mitzi slid her arms into the coat sleeves, still warm from his body. As the heat enveloped her and his fingers lingered on the coat’s lapels, some of the tightness around her heart eased.
“There’s so much I need to tell you.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Problem is, I don’t know where to begin.”
Seeing the distress on his face, Mitzi pushed aside her pride and touched his hand. “No rush.”
His fingers curved around hers and her heart began to thump. Being with him like this felt so right. She listened as he relayed what had transpired the afternoon he’d returned from Nebraska.
Anger rose in Mitzi and spilled over into her voice. “Did that horrid woman pull her business? Did Steve wimp out and fire you?”
“I haven’t heard from him.” Keenan leaned over and surprised her with a gentle kiss on the mouth. “I love you, Mitzi. So much I can hardly bear it.”
“You said all you wanted to be was friends,” she reminded him.
“That was a lie. I’d convinced myself you deserved a more successful man. If Steve lets me go, if I can’t get another job flying, I may have to move. I don’t want to leave Jackson Hole. But if I stay, I’ll never be the successful man you deserve—”
“What is wrong with you?” Mitzi swatted his arm. “You are a success in every way that matters to me. You raised your sister when you were only a kid yourself. You gave up a college scholarship so you could stay around and watch over her. The only reason you went to prison was because you tried to help a man you didn’t even know.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” he said, but he was smiling.
“I’m proud of you.” She met his gaze, hoping he could see in her eyes all that was in her heart. “If you need to move to be happy, I’ll move with you. If you want to stay, we’ll stay. As long as we’re together, I’ll be happy.”
He touched her hair as if needing the contact. “You are what Gloria told me I didn’t deserve and what I’d never have.”
“From what you’ve told me about the woman, your mother doesn’t sound like someone whose opinions deserve to be given much credence.”
He chuckled. “Fact.”
This time it was Mitzi who needed the contact. She rested her hand on his arm. “What is it you want, Keenan?”
“I want you,” he said without hesitating. “I love you, Mitzi. While I may not possess all the qualities on your husband list, I know I can make you happy.”
“Ah, about that list... That’s been revised recently. I happen to have the latest version in my purse.” She opened her bag and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “Let me read it to you.”
He opened his mouth then shut it, gave a jerky nod.
“These are the essential qualifications.”
Keenan drew in an audible breath, his eyes wary. “I’m ready.”
“Pilot.”
A look of startled surprise crossed his face. “I’m a pilot.”
She nodded firmly. “Criteria met.”
“Loves cats.”
Confusion crossed his face before an impish gleam filled his eyes. “Bitty and I are practically BFFs.”
“That’s because you sneak her kitty treats.” Mitzi smiled. “Criteria met.”
“Is that all?”
“One more.” Mitzi paused.
He cocked his head.
She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Name must be Keenan McGregor.”
His grin returned. “Why, that happens to be my name.”
She handed the paper to him. “You scored one hundred percent.”
“A score that pushes me to the top of your husband list.”
She gazed at him through lowered lashes. “Why yes, it does.”
“Riding on that high...” Keenan reached inside the jacket she wore and pulled a tiny box from an inside pocket. Then, firmly taking her hand, he dropped to one knee.
Her heart stopped. Completely stopped. The only way she knew for certain she was alive was she could hear her ragged breathing.
“From the moment I first saw you, I was captivated. When I got to know you, I realized we fit. I don’t know how else to say it. We’re stronger, happier, better together. If I had a list, it’d be a short one because there would be only one thing on it, and that would be your name. You, Mitzi Sanchez, are the only woman I’ll ever want, the only woman who can make my life complete, the only one I’ll ever love.”
Tears of joy slipped down her cheeks.
Keenan flipped open the box and took out the beautiful blue topaz ring. “Will you do me the honor—and make me the happiest man on the planet—by agreeing to become my wife?”
“Yes,” she said, and he slipped the ring on her finger. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
Keenan rose and pulled Mitzi into his arms just as the French doors opened.
Cassidy surveyed the scene and her bright red lips lifted into a smile. She sighed lustily, took a huge gulp of champagne then lifted the now-empty glass in a toast. “Here’s to true love and happy endings.”
Keenan looked at Mitzi, at the woman he loved who miraculously loved him back. He tightened his hold on her and laughed with pure joy. “I couldn’t put it better myself.”
Epilogue
Mitzi’s wedding day dawned bright and sunny in Jackson Hole. Though she knew she could have had a big ceremony, once she and Keenan decided to do it, they wanted to be married now. If it had been just up to them, they’d have headed off that night for Las Vegas.
But this wasn’t just about them. This was an occasion for family and friends to gather and celebrate. When Mitzi had told Kate and Betsy over a lunch at Hill of Beans that they were thinking of a January wedding, Kate had been stunned. Who got married in January?
Mitzi had smiled.
Betsy had reminded Kate that this couple had never been traditional.
“You look beautiful,” Kate told Mitzi, adjusting her dress.
Though the small wedding had turned into two hundred guests, the only things Mitzi wanted was a slinky gown and for Keenan to wear a black tux. When she’d told Keenan that just seeing him in black made her want to jump him, he’d laughed and told her black was his new favorite color.
“You look perfect.” Betsy’s eyes shimmered with tears as she stepped back to survey her almost-sister-in-law.
Mitzi felt beautiful and surprisingly calm. A serene peace had settled around her shoulders when she’d slipped on the dress. A feeling of rightness. This was what she was meant to do and Keenan was the man meant to journey with her down this path. She knew it in her heart. She knew it in her soul.
The sound of the organ filled the small waiting area off the main seating area. Her stomach jittered with anticipation.
“Almost show time.” Resplendent in her emerald-green dress, identical in color to the one Betsy wore, Ka
te leaned over and lightly kissed Mitzi’s cheek. “All happiness, dear friend.”
Mitzi blinked away sudden tears. She was doing a good job keeping them in check until Betsy took her in a fierce hug.
“I always wanted a sister,” Betsy whispered. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
“I love you both.” Mitzi’s voice grew thick with emotion as she thought of the upcoming years and all the good times they’d share.
She’d have left Jackson Hole if that was what Keenan wanted, or needed to do, for his career. But Mrs. Van Ness had not only reconsidered her decision and asked to have him fly for her company, she’d apologized.
Mitzi thought someone had to have intervened for such an about-face, but Keenan couldn’t think who had that clout. Regardless, Jackson Hole would remain their home, and Mitzi couldn’t be happier.
“Are you ready?” Betsy asked.
“I don’t have my veil on yet.” Mitzi glanced around the small room. “Where is it?”
“Cassidy was fooling with it.” Kate pulled her brows together. “I’ll see—”
Before Kate could go in search of her other bridesmaid, Cass walked through the door. It wasn’t the headdress with veil Mitzi had selected. It was—
Mitzi’s breath caught. “A tiara.”
Cassidy grinned. “Keenan wanted to surprise you. He said you always wanted a tiara. He hoped it’d make the day extra special.”
Love welled up in her already full heart and spilled over in tears. He knew her so well.
“Hey, hey.” Cassidy rushed over, now alarmed. “No crying. You’ll ruin your makeup.”
“I’m just so ha-appy.” Mitzi sniffled then accepted the tissue Betsy handed her.
“The way everyone should be on their wedding day.” Cassidy’s tone may have been matter-of-fact, but her eyes held the sheen of tears.
Once the tiara and veil were secured, Cassidy straightened her own green gown and listened for the music. “I believe that’s our cue to line up.”
Cassidy started down the aisle first, a curvy blonde scattering rose petals like a fairy nymph. Kate and Betsy flanked each side of the bride.
Mitzi saw her mother, sister and nieces sitting in the family pew at the front of the church. Her mother held Nate. About time they had a little boy in the family, she’d told Mitzi.
The rest of the sanctuary was filled with friends and colleagues. Even Mrs. Van Ness was there, sitting beside Bill and his family.
She had no hard feelings toward the woman, Mitzi realized. In fact, her actions and the resulting turmoil had allowed her and Keenan to grow closer as a couple and embrace what was truly important.
At the end of the aisle was what truly mattered. Keenan McGregor. The man who was not only her friend and lover but would soon be her husband, for all eternity.
Her hand rose to touch the tiara and she saw his smile widen. She glanced at the ring on her hand, the one linking her love to his.
Mitzi couldn’t imagine a more perfect wedding day. She had a tiara on her head, a blue stone on her finger and her very own prince waiting with love in his eyes.
The perfect prescription, she thought, as she took her first step down the aisle, for living happily ever after.
From Cindy Kirk:
Thank you so much for spending time with Mitzi and Keenan. It warmed my heart to see how Keenan’s friends had never lost faith in him and supported him in his darkest hour. He and Mitzi were such a fun couple so I was happy to share their story with you.
If you’ve fallen in love with Jackson Hole and the wonderful people who live there, you’re going to love IT STARTED WITH JOY.
This book is a reader favorite and Derek, Rachel and Joy hold a special place in my heart. This book went beyond Derek and Rachel’s love story. It was also Joy’s story, a foster child with a need for a family to call her own. Fans of uplifting romance LOVE this book and I know you will too.
Dive into this heartwarming romance now It Started with Joy (or turn the page for sneak peek)
Sneak Peek of It Started with Joy
One of Derek Rossi’s earliest memories was throwing a Wiffle ball to his dad. Since that day he’d pitched in more baseball games in his thirty-two years than he could count. Surprisingly, he’d never been hit. Until today.
He didn’t even see the ball which dropped him to his knees. One minute he was talking with the coordinator of the Pitching and Catching Workshop, watching the boys and girls leave the Jackson Hole Indoor Sports Facility. The next, his head was pounding like a son of a gun. Derek blinked, trying to clear his suddenly blurred vision.
As if by magic a blond-haired blue-eyed angel appeared and knelt before him, her brows furrowed in concern. She smelled like vanilla and the bright lights in the gym gave her an ethereal glow. It didn’t seem right to be on his knees before such a creature. He tried to stand, but she grabbed his arm and held on tight.
“Sit down.” The warmth of her touch jolted him back to reality and told him this was no apparition. “I need to make sure you’re okay before you start moving around.”
The beating of the bass drum in his head nearly drowned out her words. Derek struggled to focus. “Are you a doctor?”
“Emergency room nurse.” She held up her left hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
He squinted and the hand came into focus. “Two.”
Her gaze met his and for a second he found himself floating, drowning in the azure depths… Until he became conscious of the noise—and the people—moving closer, encircling him, suffocating him.
The woman must have sensed his sudden distress because her voice rang out above the conversational din. “Everyone, back up.”
“Come on, folks, move along,” a man’s voice echoed. “He’ll be fine.”
The crowd dispersed and Derek’s panic subsided. Chatter turned to a distant hum. Ron Evans, one of the event’s coordinators, stepped in Derek’s field of vision. But the older man’s focus was on the nurse. “Should we call an ambulance?”
“No ambulance,” Derek answered for her. The last thing he needed was more publicity. Besides, he felt okay. Or he would if his head would quit pounding.
“I don’t believe an ambulance is necessary, Ron. But an ice pack and Tylenol would be helpful.” The nurse’s lips lifted in a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I locked up the first-aid kit a little too quickly.”
“Coming right up,” Ron said, hurrying off.
Even as she reached into her purse and pulled out a penlight, the nurse’s attention didn’t waver from Derek’s face.
A light flashed in his left eye. He jerked back.
“Hold steady,” she said in a voice that was soothing yet brooked no argument.
He did as she asked and the light flashed again.
“Your pupils react well to the light,” she said in a professional tone he found reassuring. “How’s your vision?”
“Fuzzy but getting better.” He rubbed a spot above his left temple. “My head sure hurts.”
“Ron should be back any second.” Even though the nurse’s expression remained composed, her gaze lingered on his head, on the knot that he could feel growing larger by the second. “Can you tell me who you are?”
He may have only been in Jackson Hole a short time, but there’d been lots of buzz about the baseball workshop he was holding this first weekend in December.
“I’m Derek Rossi,” he said, surprised she hadn’t recognized him.
As if she’d read his mind, her lips quirked upward. “I know who you are. I just needed to make sure you did.”
He wondered if she knew how lovely she looked when she smiled. Then he scoffed at the thought. Of course she did. She was a beautiful woman. They always knew stuff like that. Although she was married—he’d seen the diamond on her left hand—he found himself curious about his angel of mercy. “And who are you?”
“My name is Rachel Milligan.” She brushed a wayward strand of blond hair back from her face with a slender hand. “I�
�m an emergency room nurse at Jackson Hole Memorial. I was in charge of the first-aid station today. I’m afraid my little girl is the one who beaned you.”
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
The small voice came from his left. Ignoring the pain, Derek slowly turned his head in that direction. Rachel’s daughter stood off to the side, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other.
Rachel gave the girl a reassuring smile. “This is Joy.”
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Rossi,” the child said, drawing closer.
Derek guessed the girl to be seven, maybe eight. She was thin but not undernourished. Her face was covered in freckles and her eyes, instead of being blue like her mother’s, were a vivid green, framed by thick brown lashes. What Derek noticed most was her hair. It hung in long corkscrew curls halfway down her back. It was a tan color, not blond but not really brown either. She was cute, rather than pretty. He decided she must take after her father.
“I noticed a ball on the floor and I threw it to you.” By now the child had tears in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Before Derek could respond, the event coordinator returned juggling a cup of water and Tylenol in one hand and an ice pack in the other.
“Thanks, Ron.” Derek swallowed the pills and pressed the ice bag gingerly against the side of his head.
Once that was done, he reflected on what the child had said, wondering if he’d heard correctly. The ball that had hit him had packed a wallop. Had it really been thrown by a girl?
“Do you forgive me?” By now tears were slipping down the girl’s cheeks.
“Mr. Rossi understands it was an accident.” The woman stared into his eyes. Her expression reminded him of a tigress protecting her young. “He’s not angry with you.”
Derek shrugged off Rachel’s hold and rose to his feet. She quickly followed, standing close, as if worried he’d fall. For a second that seemed possible, but thankfully the spinning room righted itself.
“I’m not angry,” he said. “I’m impressed.”