A Snow Country Christmas (The Carsons of Mustang Creek #4)(45)

“Fine. I’d stay like this forever.”

That was as good as I love you.

“This is a nice sleeping bag.”

He chuckled. “I forgot pillows. I didn’t think of it. I don’t camp too often.”

“I’ll use you as my pillow. You’re actually quite comfortable.”

“That type of high praise is likely to win my heart.”

“I had that in the bag already, right?”

“I thought that went without saying.”

Raine rolled on top of him, which was very easy to do since they were sharing a single sleeping bag. She said simply, “I’m happy.”

“That’s what we’re supposed to do for each other.”

“I hope I’m holding up my end of the bargain.”

“You have no idea.”

She touched his lower lip, their mouths just inches apart. “Oh, I think I have some idea. Otherwise I’m guessing you wouldn’t be quite so enthusiastic about one small sleeping bag with two bodies and no pillows.”

“I thought I was your pillow.” He held her closely, lightly stroking her back, those long fingers taking some definite liberties.

“And you’re a good one. If you could market you, the stores would sell out. Women would flock in.”

“Unfortunately, I think I’m taken, correct?”

“You got that right, mister.”

*

Hands down, it was the most erotic night of his life.

In bed—well, technically in a sleeping bag—with a very sexy woman, and she’d fallen asleep all draped across him, not that she had much choice because there was nowhere else to go. It gave him some time to reflect on his recent life decisions.

If he sold both his other houses he could build her the house of any woman’s dreams, but he didn’t think she’d go for it. Raine would probably prefer something modest, but a dream artist’s studio was a definite must. Maybe after Daisy graduated high school Raine would be willing to move to the cabin property full-time.

His wife. He was starting to get a real charge out of the notion.

Water, electricity, internet, a decent road... He could arrange all of that.

He had an idea forming in his head about the floor plan. As long as Raine basically agreed with it, he was in a very good place. She was focused on details and he was focused on what would work. A one-time-only construction project was his goal and he thought it was hers, too.

He liked pairing the right backer with the right film, and the right artist with the right project, because he could spot solid worth. He’d probably shot himself in the foot by even proposing that Raine consider doing the pixel film. She would be busier than ever, but he was ready to slow down and take a look around. His frenetic working pace couldn’t go on forever, he’d always known that. If he cut back, he could be there a lot more of the time for Raine and Daisy—and any kids he and Raine might have together.

It seemed to him they’d started working on that tonight.

Those select casual relationships he’d had in the past amounted to nothing and he knew why now. He’d known something was missing, but just not how to define it.

Raine had settled all that.

And now he knew how the book ended.

“I did something wrong.” He knew he had. She was quiet, and maybe not distant, but certainly distracted.

“No,” she told him in a resigned voice, “you did something too right, I’m afraid.”

How was that possible? he argued in his mind, but the spitfire was good at calling his hand. “The land dispute is settled. That varmit won’t ever threaten you or this place again. What now?”

She put her hands on her hips, but at least now there was laughter in her eyes. “Varmit? Eastern boy, you need to learn a great deal about how to say a word like that. You can’t pull off cowboy just yet, but you’re pretty good, I’ll grant, at solving a real problem without just taking out a gun.”

“A man can use his brain now and then instead of force. I still don’t understand why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, just pretty sure I’m going to have a baby.”

He’d known it was possible, but he was still stunned. “What?”

“That isn’t necessarily all your fault, I was there too, but in case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t married.”

He recovered after a moment. And he could solve that problem, too. “There’s a preacher in Mustang Creek. Let me hitch up the horses. We can pay him a quiet visit and take care of that right away.”

She was going to be stubborn to the last minute, but was so beautiful every time he looked at her she took his breath away. “The last time you did that it didn’t work out so well. I seem to remember sitting in the buckboard and watching you jump out to chase the loose horses down.”

“Sweetheart, I remember. Thanks for reminding me you were laughing so hard I thought you might fall off the seat.”

“I’m not sure I should marry a greenhorn.”

He went over and kissed her. “I’m positive you should.”

Her smile was predictably saucy. “I think I will. I’ll hitch up the horses.”





Epilogue

December 24th, one year later