Cherished (49 page)

Cole leaned down and gazed at her through the
gauzy curtain of her veil. She saw the fierce love glinting in his
eyes, the softened desire in his face. In that moment, from the
trees outside the window, came the song of a hummingbird. The
heart-stopping beauty of it sweetened the crystalline morning air
for a precious moment, then ceased.

Cole gazed intently into the beautiful green
eyes of his bride. “Come live with me and be my love,” he implored
Juliana softly, so no one else could hear.

Her rapt face spoke her reply. This man who
had needed no one, and had wanted nothing but the solitude of his
own campfire and his own path, needed
her
, wanted
her
. And she needed and wanted him with every fiber of her
being, every part of her heart, body and soul.

She placed her hand in his.

The ceremony was simple, charming, and
heartfelt. Afterward, there was dancing, feasting, champagne. Wade
and Tommy toasted the couple, Juliana danced with all the men and
hugged Josie, teasing, “Soon perhaps we’ll be dancing at
your
wedding—yours and Gil’s,” and consoled her brother
over the loss of the young woman who had been the latest to consume
his thoughts and attentions.

“Please try to be happy for them,” she coaxed
Tommy when at one point he stalked out the kitchen door to sulk in
the vegetable garden. “Josie needs someone steady and reliable to
be a father to Kevin, and you don’t exactly strike me as being
ready for that just yet,” she pointed out.

To her surprise, Tommy had given her a
half-smile of agreement. “Well, actually, Wade and I are planning
to settle down, maybe start a horse-ranching business with Cole—if
he’s agreeable, of course—but as for this husband business—you
know, Juliana, I don’t reckon I am quite ready for that yet. A
little too settled for my taste. And”—his smile widened to a full
Tommy Montgomery grin—“I have to confess, when I rode into
Plattsville to pick up that cedar trunk from the stage, I ran smack
into the new schoolteacher just arrived from Kansas City. Lord, but
she’s a pretty little thing. Sweet, too. Matter of fact, I’ll have
to leave the wedding a little early, if you don’t mind, because I’m
taking her on a picnic ...”

She didn’t worry any further about Tommy’s
broken heart.

The guests were gone by sunset. She and Cole
were alone at Fire Mesa.

Autumn wind rattled the window panes as Cole
swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to their
bedroom. The last fading rays of the sun burnished her hair to
glistening waves of gold as she leaned her head against his chest,
listening to the low, rhythmic beating of his heart.

A small black velvet box sat upon the
sea-green quilt covering the huge four-poster bed.

“Open it,” he told her, placing it in the
palm of her hand as he set her down beside the bed. “It’s my
wedding present to you.”

Juliana had never seen him so happy. His blue
eyes glowed, his whole body was relaxed, warm with pleasure and
anticipation. “Marriage agrees with you,” she teased as she slid
open the box.

“The honeymoon sure will,” he shot back.

She laughed, then let her gaze drop to the
gift in her hand. And there, nestled in a bed of velvet, was a
heart-shaped gold locket and chain, which Cole lifted out and
fastened with sure fingers about her throat.

“It’s exquisite,” she breathed, and felt she
was going to burst with happiness.

Cole cupped her chin. “When I first met you,
you stole my heart, Juliana,” he said quietly, and she was touched
by the quiver of emotion in his voice. “Now I’m giving it to you.
All of it. I hope you’ll remember that—in case I forget to show it
sometimes or to say it ...”

“I won’t let you forget,” she whispered back,
standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. Their arms encircled
each other, bodies touching, clinging of their own accord. The kiss
deepened. His arms came round her, crushing her to him, and the
passion flashed between them, a blaze of lightning zigzagging
between two loving hearts.

He undressed her, stripping away the silk
gown, the chemise and silk stockings, unlocking the thick gold mane
of her hair from the pins that had held it in place; she undressed
him, her fingers brushing the soft, curly black hair on his chest,
stroking him, then kissing him with a yearning need that
intensified with each moment.

They loved each other in the waning
afternoon, as sunset bloomed in the sky over Fire Mesa, and then
twilight came, lavender-gray, soft as down, drifting over the
mountains, the mesas and plains, and the fine old house in the
midst of horse country.

When morning dawned, bright and serene as a
girl on the first day of school, Juliana saw the gift that had been
overlooked, a large pink-and-blue-ribboned package set on the oak
bureau beside the window.

“It’s from Wade and Tommy,” she reported back
to Cole, as she read the card and plunked the package and her own
naked body back onto the bed.

“I saw Wade take it from the pile downstairs
and bring it up here yesterday, but I forgot all about it,” Cole
remarked rather absently, for he was drinking in the sight of his
lovely bride as she wore nothing but autumn sunshine.

“What are those boys up to now?” Juliana
muttered as she struggled with the ribbon. Cole snapped it in two
for her easily, and then lifted open the lid of the box.

Juliana started to giggle.

“Baby clothes,” she announced, lifting the
dozen various miniature nightgowns, booties, bonnets, and tiny
blankets one by one. “Oh, aren’t they precious? And aren’t those
boys ridiculous? We’ve only been married less than a day ...”

“No harm in planning ahead,” her husband
commented, grinning at the sight of the finely made little clothes.
The sight of them gave him a strange warm feeling in the pit of his
stomach, a feeling that went along nicely with the tight, hungry
sensation Juliana’s tousled hair and naked loveliness inspired. “I
think they’ve got the right idea here,” Cole said slowly, gathering
her into his arms. He breathed in the fresh, flowerlike scent of
her hair. “This is a big house, and we’ve got a lot of rooms to
fill up. Can’t hurt to get started. When it comes to fulfilling
family responsibilities, there’s no time like the present, that’s
what I always say ...”

“I’ve never heard you say that before ...”
she murmured.

He pinched her bottom. “I’ve never been
married before.”

The kiss they shared was long and intimate.
“Now I am,” he added, threading his fingers through her hair. “Very
married. And we’ve got all these little baby clothes sitting here,
going to waste, with not a single baby to wear them ...”

Juliana gasped with pleasure at what his
mouth and his hands were doing to her. “We can’t have that,” she
agreed breathlessly, moving her hips tantalizingly against him, and
pressing soft kisses against his chest.

Joy, desire, passion, love—all of these
flowed through her as she held him close and nibbled at the corners
of his lips. “There’s only one thing to do,” she whispered, closing
her eyes as one delicious sensation after another washed over
her.

He studied her flushed face, and lifted an
eyebrow questioningly.

“Come live with me and be my love,” she
smiled, echoing the words of the poem he had spoken to her only
yesterday, delighting in the luscious flow and meaning of each
word, “and our love will fill up all these rooms and those baby
clothes too, and our hearts will be full as a stream in
springtime....”

“Sounds damn good to me.”

And as he held her tight, cherishing her with
all his being, and made love to her on that fresh and rosy day,
they both knew that it was indeed good—as good as anything on earth
could be, as close as mortal man and woman could ever come to
heaven.

They made love beneath a shining sun—and
touched the stars.

* * * * * * * * *

For a complete list of my books, visit
www.jillgregory.net

Read on for excerpts from
Daisies in the
Wind
and
When the Heart Beckons
.

Wolf Bodine looked like he was in the mood to
pick a fight with
someone
.
Why shouldn’t he target
me?
she wondered wearily. But his next words came as a
surprise.

“It looks like I’m the one who’s beholden to
you, Miss Rawlings.”

His tone was soft. Downright pleasant.

Caught off guard, she nearly dropped the
cups. Hastily she set them in the sink and spun to face him,
suspicion darkening her violet eyes. What was he up to now? “Not at
all,” she said warily. “It was nothing.”

“You’re wrong.” Wolf had been trying hard not
to notice how pretty she looked in her yellow-and-white calico
dress, her cheeks flushed from the excitement of the night, her
eyes overbright in her lovely, pale face. Every instinct told him
to stop thinking so much about Rebeccah Rawlings. But she seemed to
be haunting him these days, and he couldn’t figure out why.
Frustrated by his own weakness, he nevertheless couldn’t keep his
mind off how fresh and angelic she looked, how like summer flowers
she smelled, how her slim eyebrows drew adorably together when she
was thinking hard about something. And about how her feet fidgeted
when she was nervous. They were fidgeting right now, Wolf noticed,
and wondered with half amusement, half consternation if
he
made her nervous.

Lightning flashed beyond the window. Wolf
stepped closer to her and saw her foot wiggle.

“You went out into the storm to rescue Joey,
and you kept Billy from catching pneumonia,” he said, keeping his
voice even and dispassionate, even when she turned those
intoxicating eyes on him. “You took care of them both. You kept
them warm and dry. I’d say that’s something.”

“Well—”

“Don’t argue with me. I’m trying to thank
you.”

“It isn’t necess—”

“Rebeccah,” he cut her off. “Just say,
‘You’re welcome’.”

Confused, Rebeccah only gazed at him, feeling
ridiculous. But it was hard to think when he was staring at her
like that, hard to protect herself against his steady, powerful
brand of charm.

Suddenly he grinned. Rebeccah’s heart turned
over. He closed the distance between them with one stride, and
before either of them seemed quite aware of what he was doing, he
seized her with a firmness that would not be deterred and stared
intently down into her face.

“It’s easy,” he continued, his tone more
patient now, his vivid gray eyes glinting into hers with hypnotic
warmth. She noted that his chestnut hair was damp, and this made it
look even darker in the lamplight. He smelled of autumn rain and
crisp leaves and good polished leather. His dimples deepened as he
smiled, and he looked almost boyish, Rebeccah thought, her heart
melting—yet not like a little boy at all.

“You’re ... welcome,” he prodded her gently.
He sounded amused. His mouth curled in a slow smile. His face was
only inches from hers. “Say it, Miss Rawlings.”

“You’re ... welcome, Sheriff.”

“Wolf,” he corrected swiftly.

“Wolf,” she murmured. A dizzy sense of
unreality gripped her.

He leaned toward her.
What the hell am I
doing?
Wolf wondered at the last moment, and paused. He told
himself to pull away. But a force stronger than his own common
sense kept him rooted to the spot, holding Miss Rebeccah Rawlings
firmly by the arms, gazing directly into those brilliant eyes.

Then his lips touched hers. Lightly,
tentatively.

“Wolf,” she breathed again, and her hands
crept shyly against his chest.

That slight movement, the softness of her
touch, was his undoing. Casting reservation aside, he deepened the
kiss, and his warm, rough mouth captured hers. His powerful arms
locked around her slender form before either of them realized what
was happening. He inhaled the fresh, flower scent of her as he drew
her close. Held her tight. Tasted deeply.

Rebeccah felt her senses swooning. Her full
mouth clung eagerly to his. From her temples to her toenails she
suddenly quivered all over with hot, glowing pleasure. Was this a
dream—one of her many thousands of dreams since that night years
ago when she’d stared into the jeweled heart of a campfire and
hungered for him?

No, it was real.
Real
. His hands at
her waist were strong, hot even through the fabric of her gown. His
lips deliciously imprisoned hers, and she clung to the warmth of
his mouth as if to sweet life itself.

“Sheriff ...” she gasped when he stopped for
breath.

“Wolf,” he corrected her roughly, and kissed
her again.

Continue on for an excerpt from
When the Heart
Beckons