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Out on the trail leading toward the mountain, Thomas finally felt as if he could breathe again.
He’d felt suffocated for the past few days, trapped in a situation that threatened to only get worse, not better.
He hoped that distance from Ellie would give him perspective and a chance to clear his head.
And yet with a whole day in the saddle ahead of him, he had nothing but time on his hands, and his thoughts returned to her again and again. She was always there in his mind, and just remembering her quick eager smile made his chest grow tight. In the last week she’d become so full of warmth and light, and the happier she was, the guiltier he felt.
She deserved more. She deserved a man who’d love her properly, a man who had wooed her and won her, fighting hard for her. A man who’d say the things she’d want to hear, and put her first, and give her tenderness, not just hot carnal sex.
He was good at sex. But the other stuff... it wasn’t him. It would never be him and she needed to accept facts or she’d be perpetually disappointed.
Ellie left a note for the men who’d remained behind, letting them know that she was with Thomas and all was well, and then after saddling Oisin, she set off for Emigrant Peak, leaving early to make the most of the cool morning.
As she reached the foothills she felt excited, as well as a little bit nervous. She really hoped that once she reached the camp, Thomas would be glad to see her. She didn’t expect instant jubilation, but once the shock wore off she wanted him to be glad she’d made the effort and joined him. He needed to realize that she hadn’t been born in an Irish village. She didn’t need to be fussed over and protected. Ellie knew she was an excellent horsewoman as well as an experienced hand, and she’d grown up with tremendous independence on the ranch, and with that independence came responsibility.
Her father had insisted she be as skilled as any boy and so she’d been taught how to read animal tracks and be alert as to the wildlife around her. She’d learned about the weather in the valley and how to differentiate the clouds, and know which predicted storms.
But as the hours passed and she and Oisin continued to climb, her excitement gave way to unease. He wasn’t going to be happy, was he?
Ellie’s stomach churned, making her queasy. She ought to go back home. She ought to turn around but the more worried she became, the more determined she was to prove to Thomas that he shouldn’t have excluded her because she wasn’t just a pretty face, but as hardworking and knowledgeable as any of the ranch hands.
She’d driven cattle through streams, rivers, scrub brush and ravines and she wanted to be there, at Thomas’s side, so they could drive the cattle together.
She’d wanted a partnership. Someone who would let her be her. Someone who appreciated how much she loved the land, and her history on this land.
Last summer her father had been too ill to drive the cattle to the high pastures, but he’d done it every other year before and she’d been on each of those trips with him.
The work could be hot and miserable, but there was also beauty in the drive. The whispering aspens, the fragrant summer grass, the breathtaking views from the higher elevation. And she wanted to share it with him. She wanted to share all of life with him.
He had to understand that she was more than a woman, and she was certainly not fragile. She wasn’t going to get sick and die, either, and she couldn’t help wondering if that was his fear. He’d lost so many of his sisters, and maybe he even blamed himself.
Ellie sighed and pushed back her hat, today wearing her father’s beloved straw one. She’d worn it as much for nostalgia as for courage.
She sighed again, fidgeting unhappily in the saddle as a little voice whispered inside her that she was maybe making a mistake. What if Thomas wasn’t happy to see her? What if he was irritated that she’d gone against his wishes?
But why should he be irritated? Why shouldn’t he include her? This ranch was her life, her land, her heritage. It’s how she knew herself, and it was also a connection to her father. Being left behind, much less left behind in a house, would never make her happy.
Harrison’s low whistle caught Thomas’s attention and Thomas glanced at the older man and saw him pointing toward the horizon.
Thomas narrowed his eyes against the bright afternoon sun, staring hard into the distance until he saw what Harrison had wanted him to see.
And then he couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared hard at the horse and rider, jaw tight, molars grinding together.
Even with the hat, he recognized her, but it wasn’t hard to recognize her, not on that huge black horse. Oisin was not a trail horse. He was meant for smart buggies, gently undulating meadows and well-paved roads. His height and long elegant legs made him particularly unsuitable for the narrow path that zigzagged up the mountain.
He knew that Harrison and the ranch hands were watching him, waiting to see what he would do. He disliked being put in that position, of having to rebuke his wife in front of employees, but he wasn’t about to welcome her with open arms. He wasn’t about to welcome her at all. This trip was no place for Ellie, and he made that abundantly clear.
In fact, he couldn’t have been clearer if he tried, which meant Ellie didn’t care what he thought, nor did she respect him.
Thomas wasn’t happy. He wouldn’t even look at her. Ellie pretended to be oblivious, kicking her foot free of the stirrup, and then shifting her skirts to jump down from the saddle.
She landed lightly on her feet and Mr. Harrison approached, offering to take Oisin and have him fed and watered and rubbed down. She thanked Mr. Harrison and then peeled off her gloves and asked if Mrs. Harrison needed help with dinner.
“She might,” Mr. Harrison answered noncommittally. “Check in with Mr. Sheenan and if he has nothing for you, you might see if my missus could use the help.”
The last thing Ellie wanted to do was speak to Thomas now. She could feel his fury from across the camp. But she couldn’t put Mr. Harrison in the middle. She nodded and headed toward Thomas, heart beating too hard.
She saw Thomas glance at her and then he averted his face as she approached. “Hello,” she said, voice not entirely steady. “Surprise.”
He said nothing.
She laced her fingers together. “I know you didn’t want me to come, because you didn’t think I could handle the drive, but you’re wrong. I’m able to help, and I made it here easily. Yes, it’s a long ride, but Oisin handled the trail beautifully. We had no accidents and no problems—”
“But if you had a problem, or an accident, what would you have done?” he interrupted tersely. “Who would have come to your aid?”
She counted to five, and then to ten. “But there were no problems. See? All in one piece. Good as new.”
He shook his head and walked away from her, going to speak to Mr. Harrison about who knew what.
Ellie perched on a rock and tried to stay out of Thomas’s way, hoping that if she gave him some time, he’d calm down.
The horses were tied to the aspen trees, while the huge cattle herd was resting and grazing in the clearing. They were only halfway to the high pasture but this was where her father and Mr. Harrison always stopped for the first night since there was water in the small valley and plenty of shade, too.
Restless, Ellie finally tracked Thomas down. He was standing, talking to some of the hands, his back to her.
She approached, tapping him on the back. “I’m going to pick some berries over by the stream. Just wanted you to know so you didn’t have to worry.”
His dark head inclined. “Fine.”
Her fingers balled into fists. She was so nervous and unsettled. She hated it like this. She hadn’t come all this way for him to be so angry.
“Want to keep me company?” she asked quietly, hopefully, trying to smile but not sure it was the brightest or most confident.
It took him forever to reply and when he did, his answer was curt. “Sure.”
He didn’t look at her, though, as he walked next to her to the reach the wild tumble of vines growing along the stream, but she looked at him, and in the long, golden rays of afternoon sun, he looked glorious.
The breeze caught at his pale blue chambray shirt, pulling it away from his shoulders and giving her a tantalizing glimpse of bronze skin and his broad, muscular chest. Her fingers itched to touch his skin, and her lips tingled, aching for a kiss. Instead, she crouched next to the vines and began picking the wild blackberries. Every summer she picked them when she was here, turning most over to Mrs. Harrison for her famous cobbler, but also eating as many of the sweet-tart fruit as she could.
“I’ve always wondered who planted the first vine,” she said, gently dumping a handful of berries in a corner of her skirt since she didn’t have a basket.
Thomas looked at her and then away, jaw jutting with displeasure.
She glanced at his hard profile and then quickly back at the dark green vines, trying to focus on the purple black fruit. “I discovered these as a little girl,” she continued. “They die every winter and then come back every summer. Over the years, the bush has grown considerably from just a few vines to this wild patch.”
She kept her hands moving as she talked, determined not to take his silence personally, determined not to let him see how much he was hurting her. She didn’t understand him at all. She didn’t understand how he imagined his silence helped the situation.
When she’d collected a generous pile of berries, enough for Mrs. Harrison’s cobbler, she stood, careful not to lose any of the berries as she shifted the apron she’d made from her long skirt.
“I’m going to take these to Mrs. Harrison,” she said lightly. “Want to walk with me?”
He shook his head. He didn’t even glance her way. “I think I could use some time alone.”
She looked at him a long moment, chest tender, heart bruised. “Are you going to be angry with me all night?” she whispered.
“I’m not going to be happy with you, no.”
“But you’re going to be like this?”
Finally she had his attention, and the look he gave her cut to the core. “As long as you are like this, yes.”
Her hands shook as she adjusted her grip on her skirt. “I just wanted to be with you, Thomas. And I’m sorry—”
“But you’re not sorry. You’re only sorry that I haven’t given you a warmer reception. But I didn’t want you here. I didn’t want you to make this trip, and not because you can’t ride, but it’s not appropriate, Ellie. I’m here to work, not play house. I don’t like being distracted, and I don’t appreciate being disrespected.”
She exhaled hard, feeling as if he’d punched her.
So that was it. That was why he was angry.
He wasn’t worried about her. He didn’t care that she’d made an effort to be with him, and to prove she could handle the rigors of the trip. He just didn’t want her here. It wasn’t appropriate.
“You didn’t marry a city girl,” she said roughly, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. “I was not raised to be cooped up in a house. I was raised outside, riding, shooting my gun, being adventurous, and free. And I’ll learn to cook for you, Thomas. I’ll even try to be a good housekeeper to please you. But I’m not ever going to stop being me. And if that bothers you, or embarrasses you, then that’s your problem, not mine, as I’ve no interest in being your convenient wife!”
“A convenient wife? Is that what you call yourself?” He laughed as he ran a hand through his crisp black hair. “Oh, sweetheart, forgive me, but you, love, have been anything but convenient. You approached me. You practically begged me to marry you. You turned my world upside down. I was happy before. I was content before. I had peace before. So don’t talk to me about being convenient, because in my eyes, you are nothing but inconvenient.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. She was more devastated than he’d ever know. “I appreciate your honesty,” she said when she could find her voice. “I’ll be honest, too. I think it’s unfair and wildly inappropriate that you’re so determined to squash the Burnett in me. That’s the best part of me, Thomas. That’s the part of me you should admire most.” And then she walked away, eager to hand the berries over to Mrs. Harrison and then even more eager to get her horse and head back home.
Thomas walked along the stream, jumping from rock to rock, trying to burn off his frustration, not wanting to return to the campsite until he was in a better mood.
He knew he’d hurt Ellie’s feelings, but he was worn out, tired from tension and drama. He didn’t want to punish her, he didn’t want to be cruel, but he wasn’t comfortable giving her the same freedom and independence she experienced living with her father.
She wouldn’t understand, but he felt more responsible for her well-being than her father had, because Thomas was the outsider. Thomas didn’t have the benefit of being a family member. If something happened to her, people would judge him. People would blame him. And he would also blame himself.
As it was, he worried about her, every second of every day. He was anxious leaving her each morning, and he remained troubled until he returned to her each night. He worried about someone stopping by the house during the day, and Ellie setting off on her own, and then having trouble. He knew she carried a gun, and he was sure she could use it, but there were dangers where a gun was of no use.
Floods, storms, fires, illnesses.
Snow.
Ice.
Lightning.
Thomas ran a hand across his face, feeling half-mad.
How had he thought this marriage would work? How had he imagined he could protect Ellie when he couldn’t protect his own family?
How could he save Ellie if he couldn’t save Eliza, and Eliza wasn’t nearly as headstrong or rebellious as Ellie?
She’d left the house for the mountain before seven, and it had taken her until midafternoon to reach the camp site. It would take at least seven hours to get back home. Ellie glanced at the sky as Oisin’s hooves sent a shower of pebbles down the slope. With luck, she’d be off the mountain by dark, and then it’d just be another hour to the house, and she wasn’t worried about crossing the pasture by moonlight. She knew the property and knew where to ride. Oisin knew his way home, too, and he’d get her there safely.
It wasn’t the trip that worried her, and she didn’t waste more than a moment’s thought on wolves, or bears, or being accosted by a stranger because she had her shotgun and her pistol and both were loaded and handy should she need them. She’d use them, too, if the situation required, as her father had drummed into her the necessity to be smart and survive.
Her father had taught her many invaluable skills but he’d never told her anything useful about love or men, or marriage, and right now she needed advice and a sympathetic ear, someone who could give her pointers on how to manage a proud, stubborn man like Thomas Sheenan.
It wouldn’t be appropriate to ask Mrs. Baxter, and Johnna was in town and still unmarried. Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering if it would be too inappropriate to seek out Johanna’s sister-in-law, McKenna Frasier, Sinclair’s wife.
Ellie and McKenna were not friends, but Ellie was desperate and her heart felt close to breaking. She needed to understand what she was doing wrong, and McKenna was a strong woman, and an independent one. If anyone might have some suggestions for dealing with an alpha male, it’d be her.
Thomas had been livid when he walked back into camp an hour later, and discovered that Ellie and Oisin were gone.
It had taken him several long seconds to process that she’d handed over the berries and left.
His hands balled into fists as Harrison apologized, saying they’d all thought Thomas knew, and that he’d given Ellie permission to return.
At another time, Thomas might have laughed at the idea of him giving Ellie permission to do anything. But as it was now, there was nothing laughable about the situation. It would be dark hours before Ellie returned home and he was all too well aware of the dangers of the rugged terrain.
Thomas saddled Crockett and was off as soon as possible.
In the distance, he could hear the howl of a coyote, and then the answering howl of another coyote.
Thank God they were coyotes and not wolves.
But a pack of coyotes wouldn’t fear attacking a lone female. Thomas prayed she was on her horse, and alert. He prayed she wouldn’t have any trouble on her return, and every mile he rode without a sign of her or Oisin seemed to be a good omen. But he wouldn’t be able to relax until he saw her at home, safe.
And then, he would give her hell.
What has she been thinking?
Or more to the point, did she ever think? She was one of the brightest, most accomplished women he had ever met. But, good God, she lacked even a sliver of common sense.
Deciding to trail after him had been a terrible decision on her part. Not just because he had told her no, but because she’d traveled all that way—eight hours at least—all on her own, putting her into all kinds of danger. And then when he was upset, instead of waiting the storm out, she turned around and went right back down the steep mountain, again by herself.
Did she not understand he was worried about her? Did she not understand that her safety was the most important thing to him?
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to her. She was his. His to cherish, and his to protect.
And then he refused to think anymore, shutting down all thought, smashing all fear, determined to focus only on his goal, and his destination.
He just needed to get home. He just needed to see that Ellie was safe and where she was supposed to be.
It was midnight when Thomas finally reached the ranch. The house was dark. The barn was dark as well, which was how it should be. He felt a rush of relief, thinking everything looked snug and quiet. He tethered Crockett to the back porch, before heading into the house.
He climbed the stairs quickly, battling his temper, not wanting another heated exchange with her at this late hour. They’d have a serious talk in the morning, but for now, he just wanted to ease the panic that had been thudding through his veins for the past seven and a half hours.
The door to her bedroom was open. The bed was empty, the pink quilt smooth, the pillows plump.
She wasn’t home. She wasn’t here.
He inhaled sharply at the jagged lance of pain, feeling as if a switchblade had just been jammed between his ribs.
For a split-second, he felt violently ill, his worry so intense that he nearly punched the wall, and then he was running down the stairs, and across the yard, throwing open the barn to check the stalls. No sign of her horse. The saddle wasn’t on the wall.
She’d never even made it home.
The world narrowed, and all thought ceased. He couldn’t see, either, blinded by rage—he’d told her not to go, he’d told her it was too dangerous—and then fear—he couldn’t lose her—and then finally grim determination. There was no way in hell he would lose her.
He went to the bunkhouse and pounded on the door, shouting at the young cowhands to wake. When the door opened, he told them to dress and saddle up as they were going to look for Mrs. Sheenan, who’d never made it back from Emigrant Peak.
One of the young hands squinted out at the dark. “Shouldn’t we at least wait till daybreak? I don’t know how we’d ever find her without any light.”
“Do you want a job here?” Thomas ground out. “If you do, saddle up, and if you don’t, get the hell off my ranch.”
Then, minutes later, both hands were on their horses, joining Thomas as they cantered away from the house and barn, heading east toward the mountain’s dark hulking shape. “We’ll spread out once we reach the base of the mountain,” Thomas told them. “I don’t know if she’s hurt, or just lost, or if Oisin went lame. Keep your ears and eyes open and hopefully the next time I see you my wife will have been found.”
At dawn, McKenna made Ellie a cup of hot, sweet tea while Sinclair saddled Oisin and then McKenna gave her a hug and Ellie was on her way home, with Sinclair as an escort.
Ellie hadn’t wanted an escort, but Sinclair wouldn’t hear of her leaving and riding home without someone to see her safely back.
“I’ve traveled between the two houses plenty of times in the past,” Ellie answered. “I don’t know why you’re making a fuss now.”
“If the roles were reversed and it was McKenna heading home, I would hope your husband would see her safely back.”
“That’s because McKenna can’t ride or shoot half as well as me.”
His lips twisted as he checked his smile. “No, it’s because I love McKenna and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.”
Ellie didn’t answer and Sinclair said nothing else until the old Burnett Ranch house came into view. “McKenna didn’t tell me everything that you two discussed last night, and I don’t want to know, but clearly you came over in need of some female company and I hoped she could help.”
“She was very kind, and she gave me some good advice.”
“I’m glad.” He hesitated. “You’re strong, and that’s good, but you have to remember that men have pride.”
“I know. Archibald Burnett was my father.”
“He was a great man, too.”
“He was,” she agreed.
“And you put him on a pedestal.”
She shot him a side glance but said nothing.
“It’s awfully hard, if not impossible, for any man to fill shoes that big,” he added quietly, “but I admire Sheenan for trying.”
Ellie couldn’t get Sinclair’s words out of her head as she climbed the staircase to her room. She’d never quite thought of the situation that way, but he was right. She’d adored her father and he’d been her hero, and it couldn’t have been easy for Thomas to take on the ranch responsibilities, and her, particularly on the heels of her father’s death.
Reeling with exhaustion, she tugged off her riding boots and struggled out of her dress. She threw herself down on her bed in her petticoats, so very glad Sinclair had insisted on unsaddling Oisin and rubbing him down before making sure he had food and water before he left. She would have done it herself if Sinclair hadn’t offered, but she was so saddle sore right now and ached in every muscle and joint.
It was too much riding for one day.
It was too much heartache for one day.
All she wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep forever.
She pulled one of the crisp cool pillows beneath her cheek and closed her eyes, thinking only of sleep—
“Where the hell have you been?”
Thomas’s deep, rough voice jolted her awake. Ellie lunged into a sitting position, her hands flying up as if to protect herself. “What?”
“Where have you been all night?”
She gave her head a groggy shake. “I’ve been here.”
“You were not here. I followed you off the mountain last night and you didn’t come home and then I see Douglas riding away from the house—”
“He escorted me home, that’s all.”
“And why did he need to escort you home? Were you lost on his property?”
“No. I rode over to the Douglas’s to speak to McKenna.”
“And why would you do that? You don’t even like her.”
“I don’t dislike her.”
“She stole your fiancé. You’re not friends. You’ve never been friends.”
“She also came to our wedding, as she’s my best friend’s sister-in-law.”
“You didn’t go to see McKenna Douglas. You went to see her husband.”
Ellie stiffened, outraged. It was one thing for him to be in a foul temper, but another to accuse her of something frankly adulterous. “I did not! I didn’t even speak to him last night. We only spoke when he escorted me home.”
“Was he up here? Was he in this room?”
“No! No. Absolutely not.”
“I knew you still loved him.”
For a minute she just stared at him, baffled by the accusations. Where was this coming from? How could he even think such a thing? “What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? There is nothing between Sinclair and me—”
“It doesn’t look that way, Ellie. It looks as if you want what you can’t have. But then you always want what you can’t have.”
She applauded. “Yes! So true. You couldn’t be more right.”
His brow lowered and his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not in the mood for games.”
“Well, neither am I. Because I do want what I can’t have, and what I want is you, Thomas Sheenan, you awful, ridiculous, hardheaded Irishman! I want you. Because I love you. But you don’t believe in feelings and emotion and whenever I get even a little bit close to you you push me away—” She broke off and gulped a great breath as she grabbed her pillow and threw it at him, and then grabbed the other pillow and threw that one, too.
“And for you to even suggest that I have any interest in Sinclair when all I want is you, and to be with you, after I spent seven and a half miserable hours riding up that damn mountain to find you, only to have you say those cruel, hurtful things—”
She broke off again, tears filling her eyes. “Shame on you, Thomas Sheenan! Shame on you because I have only loved two men in my life. My father. And you.”
Thomas stood rooted to the spot, jaw clenched, teeth aching. His stomach hurt, as though he’d swallowed a jar full of nails. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said lowly, stiffly, forcing himself to speak.
“Oh, I do, I know exactly what I’m saying, and exactly what you’re not saying.” She drew a hysterical breath. “You don’t love me and you’ll never love me and I’m the fool because I fell for you even before you married me. I fell for you that night in December when I saw you on the firetruck and in that crazy, horrifying moment where everything went wrong, something also went right. I lost Sinclair, and found you.”
She reached up to dash away the tears but she couldn’t catch them and they spilled, one after the other. “I wish I didn’t love you. It’d be so much easier if I didn’t care—”
And then Thomas, who wasn’t good with words, and didn’t trust words, did the only thing that made sense.
He went to the bed and picked her up even as she swung wildly at him, punching him in the chest, and flipped her on her back, pinning her thrashing legs, and grabbing hold of her fists and he kissed her.
He kissed her not only to silence her painful stream of words, but to calm her and stop the tears.
The kiss was hot and fierce, part punishment and part desperation. Thomas had been out of his mind with worry. All night he’d battled his fear and how it ate at his heart, torturing him with outcomes that he couldn’t accept. Nothing could happen to her. Nothing.
She had to be okay, she had to be fine. It was the only way, it was the only acceptable outcome. Thomas had lost people before. But he wasn’t going to lose Ellie. He wouldn’t even contemplate such a thing. Ellie was his... his world, his heart, his future.
“You can’t do that to me again,” he said, against her mouth, his hands cradling her face. He could feel the tears sliding down her temples into her hair. “You can’t just disappear like that.”
“I was going home. You didn’t want me.”
“I always want you,” he answered, kissing her again, deeply, his tongue finding the soft recesses of her mouth, and hearing her whimper as he stroked the delicate skin with all the nerve endings.
He loved her low whimper and the way she arched against him as he slid his hand down her hips and then between her thighs.
“You can’t have me, though,” she answered huskily. “You can’t just take me when you want me.”
“But I want you all the time.” He lifted his head and gazed down into her luscious green eyes. He’d prayed he’d find her in one piece, but he’d prayed before for a miracle and it hadn’t been granted. “I was so worried, Ellie. You have no idea.”
It was true. He’d been heartsick, so heartsick he’d felt poisoned all the way through.
And then when he saw Douglas riding away from the house, Thomas had wanted to destroy his neighbor. He’d wanted to beat him to a pulp but Sinclair was too far away and Thomas was too intent on finding Ellie.
“You are mine,” he murmured, still studying her beautiful face, as if trying to memorize it forever. He traced the winged eyebrows and the small straight nose and then her full, generous mouth. “My bride. My wife. My family. You’re all I have, and all I want.”
Her lower lip quivered. “But you hate feelings, and you don’t want to love me.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. You weaseled your way into my heart a long, long time ago.”
“Weaseled?”
He smiled at her indignant tone and lowered his head, slowly kissing her, a kiss so hot and hungry she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down, even closer.
“Is charmed better?” he teased, one hand skimming over her hipbone, and then finding warm soft skin beneath the petticoat.
“Yes, but we both know I’m not charming, at least, I wasn’t charming toward you.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I liked you too much, and you didn’t like me.”
“Oh, I liked you, quite a bit.” His fingers slipped between her thighs and found her where she was warm and damp. He stroked her until she was breathless and arching up against him. “But I was out of your league, sweetheart. What could I offer you? Nothing.”
Her nails bit into his shoulders and she closed her eyes, panting as the pleasure built. He watched her lovely face as she struggled to retain control.
“I should have said no to your proposal, Ellie. I knew I didn’t deserve you, but God help me, I wanted you. And I will want you forever.” And then his mouth covered hers, drinking in her cry as she climaxed.
Ellie slowly opened her eyes, and frowned at the bright sunlight pouring through her open bedroom window. Taking a breath, she felt the weight of Thomas’s arm around her, holding her firmly to him, his knee between her thighs.
Something had happened... what had happened?
And then it all started coming back to her.
The trip up the mountain, the tearful ride back, the conversation with McKenna and then Thomas returning, and accusing her of having Sinclair in her room...
She remembered how she told him everything, and how she’d practically shouted that she loved him.
Ellie cringed, remembering that part. She wished she hadn’t said quite everything, and she really wish she hadn’t shouted all that about loving him. It was so embarrassing and awkward since emotion wasn’t his thing. Now all she wanted to do was escape but Thomas’s arm was ridiculously heavy and, despite giving it a shove, she couldn’t get it to move.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep but not at all sleepy.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. His dark gaze met hers and he lifted a brow.
“I’m going downstairs. I’m sure you must be hungry or something.”
“And you are such an excellent cook.”
She would have punched him if she had a free hand.
“So violent,” he teased, rolling her onto her back as if she weighed nothing. He straddled her hips, his hands catching her wrists and holding them down.
“Because you make me angry!”
“What did I do now?”
“How could you accuse me of behaving improperly with Sinclair? How could you think so little of me to even suggest such a thing?”
Thomas’s smile faded. He released her hands but didn’t move off her. “That was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
“But why did you?”
His broad shoulders shifted. “Because I know you’d wanted to marry Douglas. He was your first choice—”
“Only because I hadn’t met you yet.” Her eyes burned and she struggled to keep herself from falling apart again. “You are my first choice.”
He made a rough sound. “You don’t need to say that. I’m not that fragile.”
“But it’s true. You are the only man I’ve ever proposed to.”
“Because you’d run out of time.”
“Because I’d finally found the right one.”
“I brought nothing into this marriage, Ellie girl.”
She swallowed against the lump filling her throat. Ellie girl. It was the same thing her father used to call her. “You brought exactly what I needed,” she whispered, blinking to clear her vision. “You brought you.”
He said nothing, his dark gaze shuttered, his expression impossible to read.
“Thomas,” she whispered, trying to smile, wanting so very much to reach him, and reassure him. “You are what I need. And even if you don’t love me—”
“Stop.”
“It’s okay, because I’d rather have you and have something of you, than nothing—”
He stretched over her, his mouth covering hers, stealing her words and her air and her pain.
He kissed her until her heart slowed and her veins felt full of sunshine and honey.
“I love you,” he said roughly, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. “It’s that simple, and that complicated.”
“Why complicated?”
“Because I wouldn’t survive losing you. I’m not going to do this life without you.”
She smiled through her tears. “You don’t have to. I’m here. We’re here. Together.”
“Life is harsh.”
“But also beautiful.”
“I don’t trust God.”
“Oh, I do. He brought me you.” Her tears were falling again and she struggled against the overwhelming emotion. She reached up to stroke his hard, handsome face. “And how I love you. You have no idea.”
He turned his lips into her hand, kissing her palm. “You say everything I’d like to say. I wish I had more words, I struggle to find the right words.”
“Can I help you with the words as its obvious I have plenty of them?”
He smiled crookedly. “Please do.”
“I’ll ask the question, and you answer. How is that?”
“Fine.”
“I’m not actually going to ask a lot. I just need to know one thing. Do you love me?”
His dark eyes met hers and held. “With all my heart.”
Her own heart thumped hard in response. She exhaled. “That’s all I need to know.”
“Are you sure?” He rolled over, bringing her with him so that she was now on top of him. “No more questions? No worries or concerns? Is everything truly, finally clear?”
“Well, maybe just another question.”
“Okay.”
“When did you know you first loved me?”
“Last December when I saw you rushing after Douglas, begging him not to leave you.”
Her jaw dropped, eyes widening.
He nodded. “You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I thought, if you were mine, I’d never let you go. And so when you proposed, I couldn’t refuse you, even though I knew I didn’t deserve you. I had the chance to make you mine, and I did.”
Warmth rushed through her, warmth and hope and happiness so bright that she couldn’t quite take it all in. “Thank goodness Sinclair didn’t want me.”
“I know why he didn’t.”
She arched a brow.
He cupped the back of her head and pulled her down to him, murmuring, “Because you were made for me.”
She looked into his eyes and nodded, and then nodded again. “I love you, Thomas Sheenan.”
“I love you, Ellie Burnett.”
“Sheenan,” she corrected huskily. “Ellie Burnett Sheenan. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
