At least, she hoped so.
But if not... She had plenty of family.
She had Clayton, who she loved more than anything, and she had the friendship of Nelly, the previous teacher’s daughter and the current town librarian, which was something that had blossomed when Tala found more security in herself. Was able to relax and take some time to enjoy life, rather than being afraid that everything in it was a simple distraction.
What she had begun to learn was that relationships weren’t a distraction. Weren’t a danger.
They were, in fact, everything that life was made of.
They had the wedding reception at Four Corners also, and there was a big bonfire, with dancing and laughing, and she had never felt so complete, so loved in all of her life.
She was taking a break from dancing with her new husband when she heard the sheriff’s sister Elsie Garrett talking to one of the Sullivan sisters. “Sawyer got one of his hookups pregnant. And she doesn’t want the baby. So, he’s set on being a single dad.”
“No,” Fia Sullivan, oldest of the Sullivan sisters, responded with round eyes. .
“Yes. God’s honest truth.”
Well, if there was one thing that seemed to be true about Four Corners, it was that things never stayed the same for long. There were always new people. And apparently, there was about to be one more.
Of course, all that talk of babies brought her back to what she suspected about herself.
But she didn’t figure the wedding reception was the place to be thinking about that.
So she waited. Waited until a couple of days after the wedding, when she and Clayton were settled in their house. “What do you think about children now?”
He looked at her. “That seems out of the blue.”
“Not really. I mean, now you’re not on the run, you’re not in danger from your brother or the police, you don’t have a bullet hole in you, you have a wife...”
“I guess all that’s true. I never really thought about it in that context. It scares me. Because I don’t really know how to be a father.”
“You don’t really know how to be a husband either, but here we are.”
“True. Yeah. I think I’d like that. With you. Only with you.”
“I figured.”
“Well, we could start trying,” he said, looking at her keenly.
“Oh, I think it might be too late for that,” she said. “In fact, I think you might be a father by next Christmas.”
His jaw dropped. “You think?”
He immediately asked her to confirm it, and he took a quick trip to the store, returning ten minutes later with a small item. It was positive. And when he finished showing her just how happy he was, they lay together in their bed, and he held her close. “I’m so thankful that I got shot. And lost. Really, I’m just thankful for my rock bottom. Because when I climbed back out, you were there. And that was everything I needed.”
“You are everything I needed.” She touched his face, ran her finger along that scar on his lip. None of the bad things that had happened had taken him from her. And she was grateful for that. No, his strength, who he was, his integrity... It all brought them this life. She would always be grateful for that.
“For an outlaw, you’re a pretty good guy.”
“Only for you, Tala Everett. Only for you.”
And Tala could only smile, because what had started as a dark and stormy night, was leading to a bright and sunny future.
A life filled with all the love that they could ever hope to have, and give. And this was only the beginning.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Rancher’s Christmas Storm by Maisey Yates.
Rancher’s Christmas Storm
by Maisey Yates
One
As Honey Cooper looked around the beautiful tasting room that—other than the vineyards themselves—was the crown jewel of Cowboy Wines—she thought to herself that if she had a book of matches and just a tiny bit more moxie, she might’ve burned the entire place to the ground.
Not that it could ever be said that she was lacking in moxie—maybe it was just the desire to avoid prison. Perhaps not the best reason to avoid engaging in the torching of her family winery. Scratch that, her family’s former winery.
Until it had been sold to Jericho Smith. Jericho Smith, who was the most infuriating, obnoxious, sexy man she had ever known.
He made her itch. Down beneath her skin where she couldn’t scratch it. It drove her crazy. And now he had her legacy. Just because her brothers were no longer interested in the day-to-day running of Cowboy Wines and her father wanted to retire, Jericho had offered to buy and her father had sold. Sure, she had a tidy sum of money sitting in her bank account that her father had felt was her due post sale, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t the point.
Maybe she should go find a matchbook.
Instead, she looked down at her phone—she had bought herself a smartphone with her ill-gotten rage money—and saw that it had lit up again. She had a message.
It was from Donovan. Which thrilled her a little bit.
Donovan ran an equine facility up north, on the outskirts of Portland. She had met him on a dating app. A dating app. Yes, Honey Cooper had signed up for a dating app.
But the thing was, she was really sick of the pickings down in Gold Valley. She was sick of cowboys. She was sick of everybody knowing her brothers. Her father.
Jericho.
She was untouchable here. They might as well up and put her in a glass case. Everybody acted like they were afraid of getting punched in the face if they came within thirty yards of her. In fairness, they probably were in danger of getting punched in the face. Jackson and Creed weren’t exactly known for their measured temperaments, and when it came to Jericho... Well, he was the older brother that she absolutely didn’t need.
He twisted her up in ways she hated, and had for as long as she’d noticed that boys were different from girls. Of course, the problem with knowing a man that long was that he could only see you as the pigtail-wearing brat you’d once been and would never really see you as a woman.
There was also the fact she knew all too well that Jericho’s personal policy when it came to relationships was that they were best as a good time, not a long time.
But he was just so hot.
So was Donavan though. You know, if the pictures that she had gotten from him weren’t a lie. No, they weren’t those kind of pictures. He had not sent her his nudes. She wasn’t sure if she was offended by that or not, as she had it on very good authority—TV—that men often sent women their anatomy when they wanted to hook up.