He put down the book he was reading, stared at her for a moment, then laughed. “I think that would make me incredibly happy. He already seems like a son to me. And I must confess that I saw this coming—well, I hoped. So I suppose I should also confess that I haven’t needed to convalesce here, sweetness. I was just giving you and Morgan time to realize you never want to part. You can tell him you both have my blessing.”
Delighted, she sat in the chair next to his bed to make a few confessions of her own, how her old dreams of marrying an English lord had waned in comparison to being partners with Morgan in his store—yes, he’d asked her to be his business partner—and how love was so very confusing, but temptation wasn’t. Yes, she even said that to her father! And she admitted that she’d known for a while now that she wanted to marry Morgan, but now that she was sure of how he felt about her, she didn’t want to wait another moment, wanted to be married today.
It was late afternoon when she went downstairs to see if Morgan had returned. He hadn’t, so she rode to town to find him. She could wait for Morgan to do the asking, but she couldn’t imagine how long that might take. It was a momentous decision for her to do the asking instead, and if she thought about it long enough, she wouldn’t. So she rode straight for the church first, then set out to find Morgan. She was impatient by the time she spotted him leaving the telegraph office.
She galloped toward him, reined in abruptly, and said without preamble, “Marry me by sundown. The preacher has been informed. My father has been informed. You can tell your parents.” And she rode off just as abruptly with her cheeks scalding from a deep blush.
The trouble was, she felt like her old self in Nashart, especially after being with her brothers this week, so she’d gotten a bit bossy. There was no other excuse for what she’d just done, ordering him to marry her instead of asking as she’d intended. She was mortified! How could she face him again? How could she not?
Those thoughts raced through her mind as she rode back to the ranch. But when she came to Tiffany and Hunter’s house, she slowed down. She could hide there for a while. But as soon as Tiffany opened the door to her pounding, she cried, “I ordered him to marry me today!”
“What did he say?”
“I didn’t give him a chance to say anything!”
“But you beat him to it?”
“I did what?”
Tiffany couldn’t stop laughing long enough to answer, but when she finally did, she said, “It was only a matter of time, honey. Everyone guessed it would happen soon. Morgan is probablysorelieved that you beat him to it and did the asking. Why wait, after all, when you both know it’s what you want? And don’t worry about a thing. I’ll get you to the church on time. Did you specify a time?”
“I told him by sundown.”
Tiffany giggled. “How western of you. I bet that made him laugh.”
If she hadn’t left him shocked. If he wasn’t already riding out of the territory....
But she stood in the church late that day as the sun set, wearing one of her white evening gowns trimmed in lilac satin, more sedate than one of her ball gowns. Tiffany had fetched it for her, since Violet was too afraid to return to the ranch and run into Morgan if he was back there. Tiffany even supplied her own wedding veil for the occasion. And sneaked Violet into town early so they wouldn’t run into any of the family. She’d even refused to let Hunter into the house while they were getting ready. Tiffany Callahan was turning out to be a wonderful friend.
Her father, along with Morgan’s family, started arriving at the church, followed by most of the people in town. Word had spread fast. She wished the Faulkners could have been there, too. What a long letter she would have to write to Sophie and Aunt Elizabeth! Morgan’s brothers tried to talk to her when they arrived, but Mary shushed them, which was a good thing, because the slightest wrong word could make Violet bolt, she was that nervous. Morgan hadn’t arrived yet, and the most nerve-racking part was standing at the altar waiting for him. Traditionally the groom waited for the bride. But nothing about this wedding was traditional, including the possibility the groom wouldn’t show up for it—although his family must expect him to or they wouldn’t be there, which was why she hadn’t run yet.
And then he walked down the aisle toward her, her bear, amazingly handsome in his fancy black suit, wearing the biggest grin. He wanted to be there! She was so relieved she thought she might swoon.
When he reached her, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, then whispered, “Yes, by the way.”
Hunter took that moment to call out teasingly, “Who’s holding the shotgun?”
“I am,” she and Morgan said in unison.
She gave Morgan a weak smile for shouldering the blame. “I’m sorry about how I broached the subject with you.”
“I’m not. I wasn’t going to. I love you too much and didn’t want to try to keep you here if you really wanted to go.”
Hearing that, she threw her arms around him. But someone else yelled, “Get married first!”
They laughed, faced the preacher, and got hitched. Yes, she could definitely think of marriage to Morgan that way. She was going to embrace his way of life, not try to lure him to hers. Well, good intentions...
He was kissing her before the preacher said he could, and she got lost in it, reveled in the sweet, hot sensations he evoked, would have stayed that way forever if Morgan hadn’t taken her hand and rushed them out of the church amid all the loud congratulations. He helped her get in the buckboard waiting out front, then drove them out of town—but not toward the ranch.
“They’re all going to want the traditional bride’s kiss,” he warned. “Just make sure you slap any men who take too long at it, or I’ll have to start throwing punches.”
But he’d just absconded with her! She started to laugh again. She had a feeling she was going to do a lot of that this evening, she was so happy. She glanced back to see the whole town following them, in wagons, and buckboards and on horseback. And then she heard the music, and looked ahead once more to see lights strung up in the field they were approaching. There was a large wooden platform there, too, and many benches and tables laden with food.
“This is where the town comes for gatherings and dances and to celebrate special events,” he explained. “And today couldn’t be more special. We’ll leave when you’re ready, or if either of us gets too drunk. I booked us a room at the hotel. There’s no way we’re spending our wedding night with my family down the hall.”
She grinned and stroked his face. “Good idea, but we’re not getting foxed. You can partake of a few, but I want you sober tonight.”
“Bossing me already, Mrs. Callahan?”
