Page 74 of Forbidden Cowboy

Anna, at eleven, was developing into a graceful young woman. She had taken on a lot of Sierra’s mannerisms, so in a surreal way, she also looked like her stepmother. I had a family full of copies of my now-wife, and I couldn’t even be mad about it.

I saw the Rolls Royce pull up, and I braced my heart. I had already seen her at the ceremony and thought I knew what to expect. But when the driver got out, and opened up the door, I was struck again by the beauty of the woman I had somehow convinced to marry me.

She was wearing a white dress with purple wisteria embroidered on it; the same woman had done the detailing on both hers and Charlotte’s dresses. It flowed around her like the water in the brook where I still rode Melisandre, sometimes with a child or four in tow. Her hair was wrapped in a stunning crown of real flowers, wisteria among them to match the theme, and the way the evening light fell around her, the waterfall of braids looked like it was made of flame.

Everyone stopped talking as they looked at her. I couldn’t blame them. I felt my own lungs dry up in her presence, and when she moved towards me, I felt a little bit of panic. How was I supposed to live up to everything she needed from me? How could I keep a goddess like her satisfied?

“Momma!” Noah yelled, and ran as fast as his chubby legs would let him go.

He reached Sierra, and she scooped him up, laughing. A few of our guests laughed as well, but I was still entranced. It could have broken the spell, but seeing the way she lit up as one, two, three of her children joined her on the grass as she walked towards me, it just made everything more magical.

When she did finally reach me, the event babysitter came over and guided the triplets away from Sierra, Anna distracting them as it happened so there were no tears.

I held my arms open, and my wife came over to me, standing on the dance floor, beaming.

“Hello, Mrs. West,” I said, and somehow, that smile of hers grew wider.

“Hello, Mr. West,” she replied. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She giggled, and I laughed with her. The band, seeing us together in the middle of the dance floor, took their cue from the event planner and began to play their own cover of Frank Sinatra’sFly Me To The Moon.

“Wait,” Sierra said suddenly, and held her hand up to stop the music.

Bemused, I looked at her, but she just pulled away from me, and walked to the edge of the floor, and onto the grass, where tables with confused guests sat. She gave me a wicked grin before pulling off the heels she’d been wearing, and ran back to me. She motioned for the music to start again, and gave me very little warning before standing on my feet.

“I want this dance to end a little differently, this time,” she said.

We were dancing in the same way we had all those years ago. I couldn’t have said if the song was the same or if any of the people in the audience aside from Beau had been there, but I wanted to make sure that this time, the dance ended the right way.

“You just agreed to be my wife,” I said to her while we swayed. “I don’t think there’s any other way this dance could end.”

“Good,” she grinned.

She lay her head on my chest while we danced, and I could have sworn, from the pulse in my hands and hers, that we were beating in time with each other.

I was married to Sierra Carter—now West. Beau was almost one hundred percent healed, and functioned perfectly well, even with his stiff leg. Our triplets had grown into cheeky, happy, healthy kids, and Anna was becoming the most elegant young woman I had ever had the honor of knowing. The six years I’d had before Beau’s accident had me feeling a little nervous, because life had kept trying to trip me up, but this time, I wasn’t going to let it anymore. I wasn’t ever letting any of the joy I’d found leave me.

And the millions of stars floating in Sierra’s gaze told me that she never would either.

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