Gradually, Roan recouped his strength. He eased Shiloh off him and gently tucked her in beside him. She gave him a drowsy smile, her eyes satiated with pleasure.
Closing his eyes, Roan wanted nothing more than this moment with Shiloh. He would always want this brave, beautiful woman. And silently, he swore he would protect her, give her room to grow and know herself in ways she’d never been given a chance to do. He would love and protect her. A new fierceness flowed through him as he held Shiloh close, felt her warmth against him. He wanted this woman to carry his children. She would be such a good mother. There was no question in Roan’s mind, as he embraced her gently for a moment and then relaxed his arms a bit, that Shiloh was going to finally bloom here in Wyoming.
As sleep began to tug at his mind and emotions, Roan smiled, inhaling her scent. There was such hope for both of them. They had a future together. And this morning, making love with Shiloh, he could see the promise of things to come.
Kissing her tangled, silky hair, Roan felt Shiloh sigh contentedly against him. Her slender arm was draped across his waist, her leg tangled with one of his own. Their hips rested against each other, a reminder of what they’d just shared. “Go to sleep, Darlin’,” he murmured against her hair. Because Roan knew every day from here on out was going to get better for both of them.
Shiloh’s writing ability was back and Roan felt as if they’d turned a corner with each other. It was a part of her healing process, a trusting of him in her life, knowing that he really was there for her. As he relaxed and felt her begin to sag against him, telling him she had fallen asleep, Roan wondered about the love her parents had held for each other. They had been artlessly in love with each other. And that love had grown and bloomed between them. And Shiloh had been the rest of it.
Intuitively, Roan sensed that their relationship, and later, their marriage, would be just like that. His own parents had that deep, abiding love for each other. He’d grown up seeing it deepen and widen, become more enriched over time. And he knew Shiloh and he were capable of the same kind of love. What they had was so special. He had the right woman to take both of them to that heady height of lifelong love. Together. Forever.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek at
WIND RIVER RANCHER
by Lindsay McKenna.
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Coming to your favorite bookstores and e-tailers in January 2017.
Click here to get your copy.
Reese Lockhart’s stomach was tight with hunger as he stood at the outskirts of a small Wyoming town called Wind River. The sign listed a population of two thousand. He’d gone a month without decent food. Six inches of snow stood on the sides of the road where he’d walked the last ten miles on 89A north. It headed toward Jackson Hole, where he was hoping he might find work.
The town, for a Monday afternoon, was pretty slow. A few pickup trucks came and went, fewer people along the sidewalks. He halted outside Becker’s Hay and Feed Store, the aged red brick building standing two stories high. The red tin roof was steep and reflected sunlight off it, making Reese squint. Bright lights now hurt his eyes.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, feeling humiliated and fearful of rejection once again, he pushed the door open to the store. Would he get yelled at by the owner? Told to get out? It was early May but snow had fallen the night before, and the sleepy town of Wind River still had slush on its streets midday.
The place was quiet, and smelled of leather. He saw a man in his sixties, tall, lean with silver hair, sitting behind the counter. He was sitting on a wooden stool that was probably the same age as he was, an ancient-looking calculator between his work-worn hands as he methodically punched the buttons.
Girding himself, ignoring the fact he hadn’t eaten in two days, Reese automatically swung his gaze around the huge establishment. A hay and feed store was something he was familiar with. Maybe the owner needed some part-time help? If so, he could make enough money to buy a decent meal. Shoving away the shame he felt over his situation, he saw the man lift his head, a set of wire-rim spectacles halfway down his large nose, blue eyes squinting as he watched Reese approach the long, wooden counter.
“Howdy, Stranger. Can I help you?” he asked.