She gazed at him with eyes gray in the dim light of the stable. He moved his hand to her cheek, and she pressed into his touch, closing her eyes briefly.
“I want to marry you so badly, but I . . .” Doubt reared its ugly head again, taking the words from him.
“Roman.” Clara pressed her hand over his. “Please, just ask me. Again.”
He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “Are you sure?”
“Roman.” She looked at him now with undisguised impatience.
A laugh threatened deep inside him. Roman shook his head, trying not to grin in such a serious moment. “Clara, would you marry me?”
“Of course. After all, didn’t I agree already down by the creek some time ago?”
Her wide eyes and mischievous smile made him laugh, out loud this time. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He lifted his free hand to cradle her other cheek, and then dipped his head to kiss the grin from her face.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as he met them with his. If this incredible, brave, beautiful woman believed in him, then nothing so small as men seeking revenge could stop him from building the life he wanted.
Roman moved a hand to press Clara closer to him. She responded by wrapping her arms around him, her small hands pressing into his back. She was as sweet as a summer breeze and completely perfect. And she was his.
They could do anything, together.
Epilogue
SEPTEMBER 1876
Slices of ham sizzled in the pan on the stove. That, along with the potatoes keeping warm next to them and the leftover slices of last night’s apple pie, would make a good, hearty noon meal for Roman, Jeremiah, and the young man they’d recently hired to help out at the livery. While the ham cooked, Clara glanced about the kitchen and smiled. It was perfect.
In fact, everything about her little home with Roman was perfect. There were still a few pieces of furniture she wished to add—a couple more chairs for the kitchen table, a small table for the parlor, and a wardrobe for their clothing—but they had everything they needed. Somehow, after the thieves—and Mrs. Hoskins, who the marshal had found at the camp east of town where the men had kept Clara—were caught and sent up to Cañon City, word had gotten around town that Roman and Clara were waiting to marry until he had time to finish their house. Over the next few days, men of all sorts had shown up at the livery, tools in hand and ready to help. The house was completed within the week, and they had the furniture they needed a week after that. Even better, the men in town had trusted Roman again with their horses, and his business was doing better than it ever had before.
Clara added ham and potatoes to three plates, along with a slice of pie. She’d just finished covering the last plate with a napkin when the kitchen door opened and Roman appeared.
“Something smells good,” he said. He crossed the room and lifted the napkin from one of the plates, then gave her a serious look. “I don’t believe Jeremiah or Fred care much for pie.”
Clara smiled and swatted him with the apron she’d just untied. “You only say that because you want to eat it all yourself.”
“Can you blame me?” He took the apron from her and tossed it onto a chair, before wrapping his arms about her waist.
