Rodeo Christmas at Evergreen Ranch (Gold Valley #13)(93)
“Thank you for being mine.”
Because that’s what he was. Hers. In all the deepest, most profound ways imaginable.
“Thank you for being mine,” he agreed.
And when they kissed, she was excited. Because she couldn’t remember how many times they’d kissed. And she knew that there wouldn’t be a way to count. Because they would be kissing like this. Always and forever. Whether she went to saddle bronc events or didn’t, whether she ended up staying at the ranch or not.
It didn’t define her. And it never would.
It was love that defined her.
And she was glad about that.
EPILOGUE
THE REAL WEDDING was on Christmas, at Evergreen Ranch, the following year.
Well, Callie didn’t think it was any more real than their courthouse wedding, with weeds and jeans, but her family was here for this one. And so was Jake’s.
They lived in Gold Valley now, on Jake’s thriving horse ranch, near the other Danielses. A clan that was ever expanding with Colt’s recent marriage, Iris and Griffin’s upcoming baby and Rose and Logan’s new one.
This was the wedding for everyone.
Callie was riding high after her first season riding saddle bronc, and finishing with some decent standing. No, she hadn’t gone in and won everything. But she’d done well, and that felt like enough. For now.
So much of that was down to the unfailing support of her family.
And of course Jake’s.
She felt secure. Secure enough that she was wearing one of the girliest wedding gowns in all of creation. It reminded her of a meringue that Iris might make for the bakery. So fluffy and airy and bright.
Delicate lace covered every inch of it, with long sheer sleeves and an off-the-shoulder neckline. Complete with a necklace, presented to her by her mother, one she’d worn at her own wedding. Her something old.
And a pocketknife from her dad.
It was in her garter. Her something new.
Her wedding bouquet was roses, mixed with scrubby yellow weeds, and she didn’t care if anyone else understood.
It was her.
It was them.
The wedding was outdoors, in the frosty air, with evergreens and Christmas lights all around. And even though she’d been Jake’s wife for over a year, her father still gave her away. Because it was his one and only chance to be father of the bride, he’d told her.
And this time, with witnesses, she and Jake made traditional vows.
Before God and everybody.
And she knew this time they meant them.
But they’d decided traditional vows weren’t enough, not for them.
“If you ever need me,” he finished. “I’ll be there for you. Whatever, whenever. I’m your go-to.”
She smiled. “I’m yours. Whatever. Whenever.”
And then it was time for her to kiss her husband.
Her best friend.
Her everything.
And she felt whole.
* * *
Her First Christmas Cowboy
To all the western historicals I read as a child, which made me want to bring an outlaw into modern times.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS A dark and stormy night. The thought made Tala Nelson grin ruefully to herself.
Thoughts like that were a hazard of grading English papers far too late into the night. But she was the teacher, principal and... Well, all faculty at Four Corners Ranch one-room schoolhouse, and that meant she had to stay up late getting work done sometimes.
Especially if she’d spent the earlier part of the night baking lemon squares and watching murder mysteries.
It was chilly outside, the air crisp and cold enough that she wondered if the rain that was falling might turn to snow at some point during the course of the night.
This was her second December in Pyrite Falls, Oregon, and on the ranch, and while she wasn’t the biggest fan of being out in cold weather, she loved being in during cold weather. Wrapped in blankets, with a hot cup of tea, feeling cozy even in the midst of the chill.
Winter made her feel wistful and nostalgic for Christmases she’d never even celebrated. But then, she didn’t have to grow up with the magic of the holidays to have absorbed the feeling. The lights, the songs.
Maybe she should decorate this year.
Her mother might not have approved of holiday celebrations, but her life was her own now, and that meant if she felt like celebrating, she could.
She took the teakettle off of the stove and carried it over to the coffee table, where her cup of tea and all of her papers were sitting, then she poured herself some more hot water.
On her way back to the kitchen, she grabbed another lemon bar. Then she went back and sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table, trying to make sense out of the essay in front of her that made some very... Factually inaccurate claims about Mark Twain.