Lone Star Hero

by Jennie Jones

  “You can be happy for me now. Remember what we talked about, up on the roof?”

  She nodded. “You said you were happy for me, because I’d found the real me again after years of hiding.”

  “And you said you’d like to be happy for me, and I said I’d let you know when that time came.” He took another step up. “Now’s the time. Will you be happy for me?”

  “I really want to believe this is happening and not a dream...”

  “It’s because of you that I’m happy. It’s because of you I discovered there’s only one me. That one me wants to be with you, because you’re my happiness. You’re my heart and my soul.”

  Her heart melted and her soul soared.

  “I love you, Molly. More than the ground I love to walk. More than the vista I’ve been walking toward for thirty years. You’re my horizon, Molly Mackillop. I’m home.”

  Goosebumps covered her skin in short, sweet stabs of joy. He loved her.

  “Do you know how bad I felt?” she asked.

  “If it’s as bad as I’ve been feeling since you drove off and left me, it was real bad.”

  “I’ve sat here for over an hour, being lonesome and pathetic.”

  “I’m sorry.” His smile was a little deeper now, and so was the love in his eyes. “I walked back as fast as I could. Can you forgive me?”

  She skipped down the steps and in one second flat she had her arms flung around his neck and was wrapped in his embrace.

  “I love you,” she told him, her face pressed to his, cheek to cheek.

  “I love that you love me, you beautiful, crazy woman.” His voice sounded choked with emotion.

  All the warmth inside her curled like butter pats, and heaven ballooned in her chest.

  “I wanted us to be right for each other,” she admitted. “I wanted it so much.”

  He pulled back, so they were looking at each other. “We’re damn well perfect for each other. We won’t let anyone tell us otherwise.”

  “Pact?” She held up her hand, fingers folded except for her little finger.

  He hooked his little finger around hers and the knot of forever love—no matter what—seared not only their fingers together, but their truth.

  “Love you,” he said.

  “Love you, too.”

  Little fingers knotted, he leaned close, and murmured, “You’re my world, Molly.”

  “You’re my everything,” she whispered back, a moment before his mouth hit hers and heaven arrived.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Momma, Winnie!” Molly said as she pushed through the blinds on the salon doorway, the late afternoon sunshine steaming in behind her. “I’m getting married!”

  If there’d been a journalist around to witness her joy, today’s headline would read—

  Psychic in love after a day and night of glorious passion with one really hot guy!

  “Well of course you are, baby,” Momma said in a distracted tone as she walked through the corridor from the takeout, her laptop in her hands and an expression of concentration on her face.

  “You mean you’re not surprised?”

  Momma put the laptop down. “Honey, he’s a really hot guy. The day Alice told you there was a stranger coming to town, I knew it was no stranger and that it was the love of your life.”

  “Because of the the gift?”

  “Mother’s intuition. But I might add,” Momma said, pointing a cherry colored fingernail, “you both gave me heartburn. Never known two such stubborn people in all my life.” Her green eyes locked on Molly’s, and she smiled. “Congratulations, baby. I’m over the moon for you—I just wish you’d both gotten around to the end result a lot sooner than this.”

  Molly crinkled her nose. “We’ve only known each other for over a week. How fast did you want us to move?”

  “A week? Ha!” Momma laughed, then pulled a serious face. “You’re right. Of course. A week—or just over. It hasn’t felt like six years at all.”

  “Six years?”

  “At least there’s no need to use our savings for the tiler now.”

  “Just as well,” Molly said. “Because you haven’t got any savings, have you?”

  “I’ve got fifty dollars, but I really need to upgrade the theme on my blog and that costs fifty dollars.”

  Laughter and the sound of a metal tape measure whirling outside drew Molly’s attention and she turned to the doorway.

  Saul had come into town with her, saying he’d help out with the co-op makeover. That meant digging up all the rows already in place, and creating a new veggie patch, big enough to accommodate Hopeless residents’ voracious appetite for broccoli and beets. He looked raw and brave as he worked next to Mr. Jack and Mr. Walnut. Plus—praise be—it was hot this afternoon and he’d already taken his shirt off.

  Molly took her eyes off her fiancé and turned to her mother. “So this ‘I’ve found a tiler’ nonsense was a ruse to get me and Saul together faster, wasn’t it?”

  “Not only that, baby,” Momma said, looking pleased with herself, “but your mother-in-law and I get on like a house on fire. The whole Solomon family will be here for the wedding.”

  “You’ve planned my wedding?”

  “Only the flowers and the media coverage.”

  “Media what?”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got an idea, that’s all. Doesn’t mean I’m going to run with it.”

  “It better be legal, and I’d better have all my clothes on.”

  “It’s for my blog,” Momma said as though explaining to a child. “I’m up to ten thousand subscribers and I need daily news and forecasts. I’m thinking of turning Davie’s truck into a mobile blog van so I can get around the valley faster and gather my stories.”

  “And what about Donaldson’s Development?”

  Momma huffed her disgust. “Still trying to pull fast ones, but I’m faster.”

  “Like what kind of fast ones?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ve got you and Saul sorted, we can deal with the rest.”

  “The rest of what?”

  “Off with you,” Momma said. “Go see Alice and then get your cute little everything back to that hunk of a man. I’ve got to get back to my blog, then go and make a telephone call.”

  “Why? What’s happened?” And why did Momma think Molly was going to see Alice?

  “Trouble brewing,” Winnie said, as she entered the salon from the corridor. She wrung her hands. “But don’t worry, Molly, you’re Momma’s got it covered.”

  Uh-oh. “Legally covered?’

  “Shoo!” Momma said. “I’ve got work to do.” She turned on her strawberry-pink heels, sat on her hair-chair and opened her sorbet-pink laptop.

  Molly left the salon. There was only one place to go for further information—A. Mackillop. No Appointments Necessary.

  But first, she’d stop off at the co-op garden patch and say hi to her hot fiancé.

  “Hi.”

  He stopped digging, and smiled down at her.

  “Hey.” He leaned in and kissed her mouth and Molly teetered in the rush of pleasure as paradise hit her. Would she ever get used to heaven arriving this fast?

  “Just got to go see Alice,” she said. “Something’s come up.”

  “Like what now?” he asked.

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “Okay, boss. Drive safely.”

  “I always do.”

  “Molly!” he called when she reached the gate. “Don’t forget to come pick me up on the way back. I don’t want to have to walk home. Not today. You and I have a date in the two-story section.”

  “We do?”

  “We’ve got to christen it.” He grinned endearingly and Molly’s stomach took a hit.

  They’d christened her bedroom, the bathroom, the lodge house living area and also his bedroom—they’d been in there moving his gear to Molly’s bedroom which was now their bedroom—but they hadn’t yet christened any part of the hacienda. Oh, boy. Was she in for a busy
night.

  “I definitely won’t forget to come back and pick you up.”

  His smile bloomed and his eyes turned dusky blue. “Can’t wait to get home.”

  Home. God bless him. “Put your shirt back on,” she called. “Mrs. Wynkoop’s on her way. I don’t want her getting any ideas about your tool. It’s all mine.”

  She moved off toward the pickup with the sound of his laughter, deep and sexy, ringing in her ears and setting her thighs all a-tremble.

  Twenty minutes later Molly brushed through a branch of willow. “Guess who?” she sang out.

  She strode to the pit fire, and sank next to her grandmother, crossed-legged. “We’re right for each other,” she said, picking up a mug and pouring coffee from the pot Alice had placed on the rim of the fire pit. “What do you think about that?”

  Alice chuckled. “Your momma’s been telling you all along.”

  “So have you.” Molly took a sip of coffee, hooked her free arm around her knees and looked at her grandmother. “I just didn’t get it. You said we weren’t right for each other, but I wasn’t listening, I only heard the words. What you meant was, you’re not right for each other, you’re—”

  “Perfect for each other,” Alice finished.

  Molly looked into her grandmother’s eyes, trying to read what was behind them, and failing. “Did you hear about what happened to me up on the roof?”

  “I saw.”

  “Spooky stuff.”

  Alice didn’t answer.

  “Crazy spooky,” Molly persisted.

  All she got from Alice was a droll smile, and although most of her smiles were cautiously given, this one had a kink in it. A crazy, happy kind of kink that reminded Molly a lot of her mother’s kinky smile. Hope I get a smile like that when I’m older.

  “You will.” Alice said. “Clever man, that hot guy of yours.”

  Molly grinned. “Isn’t he? And isn’t he hot?”

  “He’ll do this valley a lot of good. As you have, Molly. I’m proud of you, child.”

  Molly sighed with contentment. “Thank you,” she said, and turned her gaze to the fire, which went all hazy and dreamy in her vision. What was it Momma had said, all those days ago? You don’t need a man to look after you, Molly Mackillop. You need a man who’s prepared to watch out for you. Different qualities entirely.

  “What’s happened to the thing?” Alice asked.

  Molly laughed at the use of terminology from her grandmother, then steadied the mug in her hand in case the coffee spilled. “It’s good news. His parents called me this morning. I’m getting my money back and he’s going to have to sell everything in order to keep his sisters in college. And better yet—he’s going to have to move in with his mom and dad. They’re ecstatic and he’ll be under their thumb, stuck in the suburbs, and there won’t be a decent manicurist for miles. I couldn’t be happier.”

  Alice chuckled and Molly allowed the moment of amusement—okay, revenge was sweet—to lie contentedly on the air.

  She sat quietly for a few minutes, evaluating all she’d been given. “Do we create our own gifts of fortune, Alice?” Could a person shift the wheel of fortune, or govern the power of fate?

  “‘Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,’” Alice said.

  “Shakespeare?”

  “I don’t know what he thought about it, but I’ve always liked that line from Much Ado. What I’ve been advised is that the supposed force or power that predetermines events says we can change fortune.”

  Spooky, or what. “So we’ve got a final result,” Molly said, satisfied. “Apart from—”

  “Donaldson’s.”

  Molly sighed. “Winnie said they’re causing trouble again. But can they really hurt us now?”

  “We’ve got three towns, child.”

  Three times the trouble? Why hadn’t she thought of that?

  “We can sort things out,” Alice said. “If we all pull our thoughts together.”

  That made Molly think about her cousins. At least they could stay in their respective adopted states now, without having to worry about the valley, because Molly was here, sorting it all out. With help, of course.

  She sipped her coffee, contentment, joy, and all those other wonderful emotions, like expectation, appreciation, and happiness, filtering through her once more. “At least I got rid of the great-grandfathers.”

  “You got rid of yours.”

  Molly stilled, and peered at her grandmother. “What does that mean?” She was almost too frightened to ask.

  “They’ve moved on.”

  “Where to?”

  “Surrender.”

  Molly started, and coffee spilled over the rim of her mug and onto her hand. “Why?” she asked, licking the coffee off her thumb. “What’s in Surrender?”

  “Lauren.”

  Molly put her mug down. “But she’s in California.”

  “Not for much longer. There’s a man coming for her.”

  “What does he want with her?”

  “He doesn’t know that he wants her yet.”

  Uh-oh “So why is he coming for her?”

  “Can’t say.”

  Oh, heck. Molly looked back at the flames, peered hard, and felt a burning, powerful force course through her.

  “That’s it then,” she said, and picked up her coffee mug. “Here we go again.”

  Poor Lauren. And poor unknown man. Neither knew what was about to hit them....

  The End

  More by Jennie Jones

  Don’t miss the next story of the Mackillop girl story!

  Book 1: Lone Star Hero

  Molly’s story

  Book 2: Coming soon

  Book 3: Coming soon

  Love the town of Whiskey River, Texas? Stay awhile. Where the women are feisty, the men are sexy and the romance is hotter than ever.

  The Brothers of Whiskey River Series

  Book 1: Texas Heirs by Eve Gaddy and Katherine Garbera

  Book 2: Texas Cowboy by Eve Gaddy

  Book 3: Texas Tycoon by Katherine Garbera

  Book 4: Texas Rebel by Eve Gaddy

  Book 5: Texas Lover by Katherine Garbera

  Book 6: Texas Bachelor by Eve Gaddy and Katherine Garbera

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  About the Author

  Jennie Jones loved everything romantic from an early age and still does. Give her a country manor with a debonair earl, a dusty outback station with a surly homestead boss, or a sprawling cattle ranch with a lonesome cowboy and she’s in her element.

  Born in a country town in Wales, all these romantic leanings in her youth led Jennie to the theatre where she worked as a professional actor for many years. It was a natural turning point when Jennie began writing fiction. She says writing keeps her artistic nature dancing and her imagination bubbling and she can’t envisage a day when writing will ever get boring.

  Jennie now lives in a country town in Australia, getting most of her kicks from books about earls, cowboys and all kinds of passionate book-boyfriend heroes. When she’s not writing or reading she hangs out with Jonesey the boy cat, Zena the girl cat and Churchill the 50 kilo rescue dog. Plus the occasional sighting of her daughter. You can find more about Jennie and her books on www.jenniejonesromance.com.

 

 

 
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