Pistols and Petticoats (A Historical Western Romance Anthology)
Page 26
"Fine. I lost him, but I'm not really interested in that—it's you on my mind right now." He cupped her face between his big hands. "Up on that hill you told me that you thought I didn't care about you anymore because I felt that other thing instead."
Seth looked so sincere, and yet so terribly uncomfortable, Shannon had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. Then she reminded him of their conversation. "I said that I thought you might love me a little."
He nodded and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. "That's the thing I'm talking about."
Now she did laugh. "Oh, Seth. You're not talking about love. You're talking around it. Can't you just up and tell me what's on your mind?"
His hands still cupping her face, Seth kissed her, a warm, gentle kiss that held a lot of promise. Then he abruptly set her aside and whistled into the corral. As he'd been taught, Charlie trotted over to where Seth and Shannon stood.
Pointing at the horse, Seth said, "I'm trying to tell you that I want my horse back."
Not entirely sure she understood, Shannon said, "You do realize that the only way you can get him back from me is if you accept him as my dowry."
His expression sheepish, Seth said under his breath, "I understand and accept your terms."
Shannon's heart skipped a beat and then seemed to stop altogether. To be sure of his intentions, she asked, "Was that a proposal?"
"Is that what you would like it to be?"
Tapping her toe in the dirt, she narrowed her gaze and said, "That remains to be seen. Now was it or not?"
Glancing at her with a crooked grin, Seth simply said, "Was."
"Some proposal," she said, not at all disappointed. "I don't suppose you have a ring or anything to show that we're betrothed."
Seth considered this a moment, and then inspiration struck. He untied his blue scarf, pulled it off, and looped it loosely around Shannon's neck. "Will this do until we get married?"
"It will do just fine," she said, fingering the material. "I'll even wear it when I sleep."
Crushing her to his chest, Seth whispered, "Do whatever you want with it, but I'm going to have to have it back by the time we get to San Jose."
"But that's tomorrow morning."
"That's the schedule."
Shannon thought about that a minute, trying her best to understand this man of few intimate words, and then said, "Are you suggesting that we get married as soon as we get to San Jose?"
Love clearly shining in his eyes even if he couldn't say the word, Seth said, "Yep."
Chapter 15
Centennial, Wyoming
Lacey climbed the stairs leading to the bedroom loft she shared with her husband, and found him staring out the bay window at the Snowy Mountain range in the distance.
"Crowfoot just stopped by with our mail," she said, joining him by the window. "We got another letter from Shannon."
Hawke turned to her. "Has she come to her senses and decided that she belongs here?"
Lacey shook her head. "You should read her letter, but please, Hawke... remember that Shannon is a grown woman who has to follow her heart."
His expression suspicious, he snatched the letter out of Lacey's hand and began to read. He'd only gotten through the first two paragraphs before Hawke's eyes bulged, and he bellowed, "My little girl is married? Married!"
"Now, Hawke, do not get yourself so upset. If you read on you'll find that Shannon is very much in love. Her husband is a horseman, like you, and is in charge of all the animals in Mister Cody's show. I think they will be very happy together."
He shook his head. "I can't believe this. Shannon went and got married without us. I didn't even get to give her away—not that I would have."
Lacey patted her husband's chest. "Twas impossible for her to come home for the wedding, but she did promise to bring her new husband with her and come for a visit next spring."
"Spring? Why can't she come now?"
Sighing heavily, Lacey said, "You are not going to read that letter, are you."
"No, I am not." He let the letter flutter to the floor. "I'm afraid I'll rip it to shreds if I do. Just tell me what it says."
"The troupe, as Shannon calls the show people, is on the way to the east coast where they will board a ship and sail to England."
"What? But that's so far away."
"Tis," she agreed, "but no farther than I traveled from Ireland."
Hawke studied her for a moment, and then said, "I know, I know. You were younger than Shannon when you made the trip."
"True, my husband, and think of the adventure our Shannon will have when she arrives there." She bent over and retrieved the letter. Then she ran her finger over the words until she found the ones she sought. "It says here that they arrive in England in December, and that they have shows scheduled in London from the day after Christmas until the end of April. After they return to America she will come for her visit."
Muttering under his breath, Hawke said, "Then I guess there's not a damn thing I can do about it."
"No, so please, just be happy for her." Remembering something else she'd read, Lacey added, "She says there's a very good chance that she will meet King Edward the Seventh while she's in London."
Coming to terms with all he'd learned, Hawke nodded slowly. "What about Caleb? Does Shannon have word of him?"
Lacey backed away from her husband—not that she feared for her safety, but because she didn't want to be in the area of his next explosion.
"Yes, Hawke, there is word of Caleb. It seems he met a nice family of photographers who work for the Wild West show and they gave him a job."
"A job? But he's got work here."
"True, but tisn't the work he loves. Caleb intends to stay with the show at least until next spring."
Hawke shook his head again. "So we've lost both of our children to Buffalo Bill and his gang of cowboys and Indians. Is there anything else I should know about?"
Lacey batted her lashes and gave him her best smile. "Two more things, my husband."
"I'm not going to like either one, am I."
"I think not, but please be calm and try to understand."
He sighed, but gave her a quick nod.
"The thing is, the photographers have a lovely young daughter who has caught Caleb's eye—"
"Let me guess," he said, cutting her off. "Caleb is married, too."
"Not yet, my husband, but Shannon seems to think he will be, and soon."
Hawke hung his head a moment, and then said, "I don't have any more children to run off and get married, so what could that last thing be?"
"'Tis the horse Caleb rode to Cheyenne. He boarded it at the livery there, but since he is not returning for a very long time, it seems you will have to either go collect the horse or sell it to the livery owner."
"So I've not only lost my twins, I've lost two fine horses as well?"
Lacey brightened. "Yes, but think of it this way, my husband—at least we have the house all to ourselves."
As he glanced at the fireplace mantel where Lacey kept the spurs she'd once worn, a slow smile spread across Hawke's face. He recalled the day well before the twins were born when she'd stood on their bed wearing those spurs—and not another damn thing.
Hawke pulled Lacey into his arms and whispered, "And don't I have an idea about what we can do with all this newfound freedom."
The End
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THE BRIDE WORE SPURS
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book One
Excerpt from
The Bride Wore Spurs
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book One
by
Sharon Ihle
Bestselling, Award-winning Author
"What happened at the doctor's office, Lacey? Are you with child?"
"Aye, my husband." Lacey grinned broadly, aglow from within. "That I am."
"You don't look terribly upset. I thought you didn't want to have children."
"Aye, but that was because I thought any babe I bore would be born mad like me. The doctor told me that probably would not happen, but now even that does not matter—I was ne'er truly mad, so the babe is sure to be all right."
"That's what you've been so upset about?" Still confused, Hawke hadn't truly grasped the idea that he was to become a father. "What about the difficulties you'll have raising the children of a half-breed?"
"A half-breed? Oh, Hawke." Lacey knew exactly what he was referring to and why he couldn't get it out of his mind—he'd carried a burden not so unlike her own all his life, too. Tears welling in her eyes, she softly said, "My only concern was that I might be forced to give the man I love a mad child. I have told you many times before that your Indian blood makes no difference a'tall—in fact, I've grown rather fond of that side of you. Will you ne'er believe that of me, my husband?"
Hawke closed his eyes, and Lacey thought she heard him utter a low groan or growl.
"We are going to have a baby," she went on to say, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Please try to find a way to be happy about this, husband."
Hawke abruptly released her, turned his back, and for a moment, Lacey wasn't exactly sure how he was taking the news. He took three deep breaths, his back heaving mightily, then he swung back around to face her again. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but something caught Hawke's gaze over the top of her head. Lacey glanced over her shoulder to see that several curious onlookers still stood on the boardwalk watching their exchange.
Without a word, Hawke turned Lacey toward him, lifted her off her feet, and carried her around the corner, down the alley, and to the back of the building where they finally found complete privacy. Again he opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead, reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew his ledger. After flipping the pages to a blank sheet, Hawke moistened the tip of his pencil and began to write.
Amused, Lacey watched him awhile, but finally grew impatient and snatched the ledger out of her husband's hand in mid-scrawl. He didn't object, but smiled that dazzling smile of his as she scanned the heading: Loving Lacey.
The first entry in the Reasons For column read:
She's the only female in all of Wyoming Territory willing to marry a hard-headed man like me.
Lacey glanced up at Hawke in surprise, met his gaze, and gave him a shy smile. Then she read entry number two; Because I can't help myself.
Smiling to herself now, Lacey scanned number three, then reread it to make sure of what she'd seen; She's having my baby and wants it as much as I do.
"Oh, Hawke," she murmured as again her gaze shot up to his. This time when their eyes met, it left them both a little misty.
Catching her breath, Lacey read number four, and burst into giggles; Because I really, really can't help myself.
And number five filled her heart to bursting; Because she is the sun, the moon, earth, wind, and fire to me.
The last entry in that column was scrawled across the page, since Hawke had been writing it when she snatched the book away. Because I—
Giving a grin as big as all of Wyoming, Lacey glanced to the top of the ledger where the Against Loving Lacey column started. It had but one entry; It's too damn embarrassing to tell her how much I love her in public.
With tears rolling down her cheeks, Lacey let the slender book fall from her fingers as she threw her arms around Hawke's neck and whispered, "And I love you, too, my husband."
Then, kissing him with all the love and passion she felt inside, she reminded him of yet another entry which belonged in the Reasons For Loving Lacey column.
* * *
Thanksgiving supper was held at Winterhawke Ranch that year—not because Lacey suddenly became adept at cooking, or because Hawke's culinary talents moved beyond simple stews and roasts, but because the log house was bigger than the Weatherspoons'. With three babies and an eleven-year old boy among them, the weary adults needed all the room they could get.
Shortly after the Winterhawke twins were born in October, Crowfoot had finally agreed to move into the house. His surge of protectiveness made it impossible for him to let them out of his sight for more than an hour at a time. He bedded down in the babies' bedroom, still content to lie upon the little straw mattress he'd fashioned in the barn. This arrangement was fine with Lacey, who wasn't getting much sleep, and Hawke was darn near agreeable to anything, so awed was he over the perfect little boy and girl he and Lacey had created. They named the boy, Caleb, after good friend and neighbor Caleb Weatherspoon, and the girl, Shannon, after the River Shannon in Ireland.
Other than their home, which Hawke had considered as his own property anyway, the sudden family inheritance didn't really mean so much to him. He and his wife were content just to live in peace to raise their family and the horses. Of course, the extra money did come in handy here and there. Especially for frivolous, nonessential items. Like sterling silver spurs.
Eyeing the pair of miniature spurs hanging from a wire above each of his red-haired babies, Hawke impulsively reached out and flicked the tiny shamrock wheels at the backs, setting all four of them to spinning. For luck, he told himself. Not that the Winterhawke family felt they needed any more than they already had. But just for luck.
The Bride Wore Spurs
The Inconvenient Bride Series
Book One
by
Sharon Ihle
~
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The Bride Wore Spurs
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
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Meet the Authors
In another life, Barbara Ankrum was a successful commercial actress in Hollywood, going on auditions while she and her husband raised their two children. At some point, on the way to an audition apparently, it occurred to her that in order to get her creative life in hand, she ought to write a novel. This epiphany sprang directly from her love of romance novels and an obsession with all things Western. After selling the first book, a Western historical, she left casting directors behind and never looked back.
Barbara's bestselling books have been twice nominated for Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA award and have won numerous other awards. She also writes contemporaries for Harlequin Intrigue under her own name and for Harlequin Blaze under the pseudonym, Carrie Hudson. After all these years, she still believes in happy endings and feels very lucky to be able to do what she does. The kids are grown now, but Barbara and her husband still live in Southern California with their two cats and a scruffy, unrepentant dog who will, no doubt, find her way into one of Barbara's books soon.
Adrienne deWolfe is a bestselling, award-winning author and book writing coach, who calls Austin, Texas, home.
Recipient of 48 writing awards, including the Best Historical Romance of the Year, Adrienne is the author of the bestselling Wild Texas Nights series of Western Historical Romances. She has also written a bestselling, non-fiction series, including, How to Write Wildly Popular Romances, How to Write Romance Heroes with Sex Appeal, and How to Write Sensual Love Scenes.
When Adrienne isn't writing books, she is blogging at WritingNovelsThatSell.com, where aspiring authors find lots of tips, inspiration, writing resources, professional story critiques, and online writing workshops.
You can follow Adrienne on GoodReads.com; on Facebook at Facebook.com/Writing.Novels; and on Twitter at @AdriennedeWolfe.
Bestselling author, Sharon Ihle has written more than a dozen novels set in the American West. All have garnered rave reviews and several have foreign translations. Many of Sharon's books have won prestigious awards, and as an author, she has been a Romantic Times nominee for Career Achievement in Love and Laughter. A former Californian, Sharon now makes her home on the frozen plains o
f North Dakota. Hard to believe, but it's true.
You can contact Sharon through her website: www.sharonihle.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Table of Contents
Ethan's Bride by Barbara Ankrum
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Excerpt from CHASE THE FIRE - Wild Western Hearts Series, Book 4
Shady Lady by Adrienne deWolfe
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Excerpt from DEVIL IN TEXAS - The Velvet Lies Series, Book 4
Bareback Bride by Sharon Ihle
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10