Authors: Deb Stover
Tags: #General, #Romance, #Western, #Historical, #Fiction, #Time Travel
"The people we love always live in our hearts, Cole."
True conviction entered her voice and her heart.
"That's so."
He pulled her against him and held her in silence.
She allowed herself a few silent tears–for her mother, the baby Jackie'd miscarried, and for herself.
Now that she had things in perspective again, she had to help Cole find his dream.
Maybe–just maybe–she could become a part of his dream.
And stay in the nineteenth century?
He tilted her chin upward and covered her lips in a kiss so tender it almost made her weep.
She clung to him, savoring this moment.
Somehow, she had to tell him about Rock Smith, Goodfellow's offer, help him return Merriweather's gold, and clear his conscience.
And help him find a way to get to Oregon.
After a delicious, lingering moment, he pulled back and smiled.
"I just want to make sure you really understand that invitation to Oregon."
Her heart skipped a beat and she held her breath.
"What about it, Cole?"
"I wasn't asking you to do anything...improper."
Redness flooded his face.
"Ah, rats."
She rubbed herself against him.
"Are you sure about that, big guy?
We've been properly improper already.
Several times."
His drew a sharp breath and pressed the evidence of his desire against her belly.
"I had something a lot more... permanent in mind."
It was her turn to stare in numb silence.
Her blood pumped so loudly through her head, she could barely hear herself, let alone him.
"Cole, what are you saying?"
But she
had
to hear his words.
Listen, Clarke.
"Dang it all, Jackie, do I have to spell it out?"
His discomfort endeared him to her all the more.
"Yes, Cole," she said, blinking and afraid to believe.
To hope.
"Yes, you do."
So I can make damn sure I'm not dreaming this.
Please, God, don't let me screw this up.
Much to her amazement, he dropped to one knee, holding both her hands in his.
Her head swam and she held her breath.
"Marry me," he whispered.
Chapter 15
"I..."
Jackie bit her lower lip.
The man was on his knees
proposing
to her.
"I..."
He grinned and she couldn't contain her nervous laughter.
"What's so funny?"
He placed his hand over his heart.
"My pride may suffer a mortal wound, woman."
"Stand up, Cole," she whispered, then tugged on his hand, no longer laughing.
"Please?
I can't think with you...like that."
"On my knees, you mean?"
He rose and pulled her hard against him.
"Is this better?"
"Oh, yeah."
She kissed him, twining her fingers through the soft hair at his nape.
"I like this a lot."
"Mmm, so do I."
He pulled back and his expression grew sober.
Intense.
"Will you marry me, Jackie?
Be my wife?
Help me raise Todd?
Go with us to Oregon as soon as I save enough money?"
And never return to my own time?
The thought both terrified and thrilled her.
She couldn't imagine anything better than being Cole Morrison's wife and having a son like Todd.
And maybe more babies–a little girl named Sandra.
The man was offering her the world.
His dream.
Her dream.
How could she refuse?
Yet how could she agree?
"Cole, do you really believe I'm not Lolita?"
She had to know once and for all.
A moment's uncertainty flashed in his eyes and a stabbing pain pierced her moment of joy.
She couldn't marry him if he still believed she was Lolita.
"Cole?" she repeated, waiting.
And hoping.
"I don't believe you're Lolita," he said.
"At least, not anymore."
Her fairy tale shattered, her dreams died.
A sinking feeling washed over her and her head pounded.
"What do you mean by 'not anymore?'"
He shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"Jackie, what am I supposed to think?
You showed up in Devil's Gulch just before everybody was expecting Lolita, and your hair's that unnatural shade of red like hers."
She drew a deep breath and clenched her fists at her sides.
In her heart and gut, she realized he still didn't believe her.
Damn.
"Then maybe you should just deliver me to Merriweather and collect your gold, cowboy."
Her lower lip trembled and she bit it, but she banished the nasal drone of Great-Aunt Pearl's voice from the back of her mind.
"Jackie, don't.
I–"
"I'm tired, Cole," she whispered.
"We'd better get back."
She met his gaze and her heart pressed upward against her throat, a tight fist of anguish.
He looked like a man who'd lost everything, which wasn't true, of course.
She was the big loser in this scenario.
"Please, don't look at me that way."
"What way?"
One corner of his mouth turned upward and he raked his fingers through his hair.
"Like a man who wants to kiss you, to hold you, to make you his wife?"
But not like a man who loves me and who believes me.
She shook her head.
"You don't have to marry me, Cole, just because we had sex."
He grabbed her upper arms and gave her a gentle shake.
"Jackie, there could be a
child
.
Lord knows we did everything right to make one."
Ah, so that was it.
How could she explain contraception to a Victorian man?
"Wrong time of month," she said.
"Huh?"
"It's just...
very
unlikely.
Trust me."
At least now she knew why he'd proposed to her.
This wasn't about love or dreams.
Mr. Straight Arrow was simply an honorable man doing the "right thing."
Well, to hell with this.
"I won't let a child of mine be branded a bastard."
His voice was intense and his eyes flashed angrily.
"I can't believe you would risk that either."
She could've said something flippant, but the pain of the child she'd conceived and lost so many years ago stabbed through her anew.
"If there's a child, I promise I'll let you know," she whispered.
"Let's not borrow trouble."
"Trouble?"
He let his arms fall to his sides, an expression of shock and disappointment marring his handsome features.
"Children aren't trouble, Jackie.
They're a blessing."
And a dream I'll never have.
"I didn't mean it...that way."
Her head ached and pounded and she rubbed her temples.
She'd really blown things with Cole now, but it never would've worked anyway.
Her eyes burned and she cleared her throat.
"My proposal still stands," he said stoically, closing his eyes before looking directly at her again.
"And I meant what I said about not having a child of mine raised a bastard."
"I know you did, Cole."
She held her breath, wishing she could tell him everything–who she was, where she was from, why she couldn't be pregnant.
He already didn't believe the truth she'd told him about not being Lolita, so why would he believe time travel?
Because it was the truth.
"Damn," she muttered, dragging in a deep breath.
"What?"
His jaw twitched again.
"Don't grit your teeth, Cole."
She flashed him a smile.
"I have something to tell you, but it's going to be hard for you to believe.
Even harder than the fact that I'm not Lolita.
Which I'm not and never have been."
"Are you...already married?"
His brow furrowed and genuine worry entered his eyes.
"No matter how much I want you, I never would've–"
"I'm
not
married, Cole."
She stepped closer and touched his cheek, watching relief wash through him.
"Dear, sweet Cole."
She smiled up at him.
"No, it's something much more bizarre, but it's the
truth
."
"Truth is good."
He gave her a shy grin.
"And you not being married is even better."
She threw back her head and laughed, feeling much better about everything.
"Ready or not, Cole Morrison," she said with genuine conviction, "you're getting the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
She placed her right hand over her heart.
"So help me God."