Waiting for Spring (40 page)

“And I love you.”

As his lips started to curve into another smile, he flattened them, and for an instant Charlotte thought he would scowl. She couldn't imagine what had changed his mood so suddenly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Barrett appeared startled. “No. Yes. Maybe.” He refused to meet her gaze. Instead, he stared into the distance as he said, “I suppose I ought to thank you for not giving Warren the ransom money, but you've created a problem.”

“A problem?” He was making no sense. Charlotte had heard that people who sustained injuries to their heads could be confused for several days. Perhaps Warren had hurt Barrett more seriously than she had realized. Perhaps they should be on their way to see a physician, not a minister. “How can there be a problem?”

Barrett's lips quivered again, and once again Charlotte had the impression that he was trying to fight his smile. “Now I can't collect the payment,” he announced.

“I don't understand.”

Barrett's eyebrows rose in what appeared to be astonishment. “How could you forget? Don't you remember that when you insisted I should not sacrifice my savings, I told you I'd ask for payment when David was safe?” Charlotte nodded as the memory resurfaced. “That's the payment I want to collect. The problem is, your son is safe, but it doesn't seem quite fair to ask for anything when I still have all the money.”

Though Barrett's voice was solemn, his eyes sparkled with
ill-concealed mirth, and Charlotte realized that he was neither serious nor injured. He was in his right mind, trying to bring a little levity to a day that had had more than its share of tragedy.

“What kind of payment did you have in mind?” Charlotte tried to match Barrett's solemnity, though the twinkle in his eyes told her that the payment he wanted couldn't be onerous.

“A huge one.”

“How huge?”

“Enormous.”

She pursed her lips, pretending to be annoyed. “But you said I'd be able to afford it.”

Barrett nodded. “You can. The question is whether you will want to pay it.”

This was a side of Barrett Charlotte had not seen today, playful and joking, and—oh!—how she liked it. Living with a man like this would never be boring.

“Unless you tell me what you have in mind, I'll have no choice but to refuse. My mother taught me never to buy a pig in a poke.”

“A what?”

“A pig in a poke.” When Barrett did not seem to recognize the term, Charlotte explained. “Poke is an old-fashioned word for a sack. Not buying a pig in a poke means you shouldn't take something without looking at it. If it's still in the sack, you don't know whether it's a healthy pig or whether it's a pig at all.”

“I assure you, the payment I have in mind is no pig.” Oddly, the muffled noise that accompanied Barrett's words sounded like a pig's snort.

“Then what is it?”

“It's simple and yet complex.”

“Sounds like a pig in a poke.” Charlotte shook her head in feigned indignation. “Just tell me, Barrett.”

“All right.” As the sun dipped behind a cloud, Barrett's lips curved into the sweetest smile Charlotte had ever seen. “The payment I want is a kiss.”

Her smile matched his as she thought of the kisses they had shared last night. The prospect of a lifetime of those kisses broadened her smile. How glorious it would be to be married to this man!

“That's all?” she asked, pretending disbelief. “You were prepared to give up your entire fortune, and all you want is a kiss?”

“Not just any kiss. I wanted a kiss from you.”

“One kiss?” He'd given her many more than that last night.

He nodded. “That's all.”

“Then you shall have it.” Though it was clear that Barrett expected his payment later, Charlotte had other ideas. Barrett was the man of her dreams, the one she'd been waiting for her whole life. He was the man who'd filled her heart with love and happiness. He was her hero. And so, in full view of anyone passing by, Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

“I love you, Barrett Landry,” she murmured.

Dear Reader,

Research is always one of my favorite parts of writing a book, and this time it was particularly enjoyable, since I was learning about my adopted hometown. If you visit modern Cheyenne, you'll find it greatly changed from 1886. Most of the buildings from that era are gone, and to make it even more confusing, several of the main streets have different names. What hasn't changed is the welcome that residents give to visitors and newcomers. That's part of what attracted me to Cheyenne in the first place. Do I sound like the Chamber of Commerce? Sorry!

One of the questions I'm frequently asked is how much is fact and how much is fiction in my stories. The background to
Waiting for Spring
is factual. Cheyenne's wealth in the 1880s was based on cattle, but overgrazing and the devastating winter of 1886–87 destroyed many of the cattle barons' fortunes. As the map at the beginning of the book indicates, many of the places Charlotte and Barrett visit were real. As for the characters, anyone who has a speaking role is fictional. I've alluded to real people, notably F.E. Warren and Joseph Carey, who became Wyoming's first U.S. senators and who now have streets named after them, and the territorial governors of that era, but you'll notice that they don't speak.

Since the weather played an important role in the story, I
wanted to be as accurate as I could about it. Fortunately, I had access to a diary that mentioned the weather on specific dates, so I didn't have to imagine when it snowed or rained. Other books provided photographs of both the interior and exterior of many houses and important buildings, so once again I didn't have to rely on my imagination and possibly get some of the details wrong. But the story itself is pure fiction.

I hope you enjoyed Charlotte and Barrett's adventures and that you're looking forward to the third of the Westward Winds books. Although it's primarily the story of Elizabeth, the youngest of the Harding sisters, my heart ached for Gwen when she discovered Warren's treachery, and so I'm giving her another chance at happiness in
With Autumn's Return
. That book should be available in the spring of 2014. In the meantime, if you haven't read
Summer of Promise
, the first of the trilogy, I hope you'll find the story of Abigail's summer at Fort Laramie intriguing. I have to admit that Puddles the puppy is one of my favorite characters in
Summer of Promise
, even though he's not human.

As always, I look forward to hearing from you. For more information, including my email address, I invite you to visit my website (
www.amandacabot.com
). You can also find me on Facebook, and you might be interested in my blog where my “Wednesday in Wyoming” posts give you an insider's look at the state.

Blessings,
Amanda Cabot

I
am privileged to have a team of talented, dedicated professionals working to turn my stories from rough manuscripts into finished books. The staff at Revell is, without exception, a true delight. To list everyone who's been part of this book would take several pages, but I would like to single out four women whose efforts have made a huge difference.

Vicki Crumpton's title may be Executive Editor, but I call her Editor Extraordinaire. She has an innate sense of what readers want—and don't want—in a book. That, combined with her wonderful sense of humor, makes revisions fun. Well . . . almost fun. Vicki's the perfect editor: part cheerleader, part coach, completely fabulous.

My project editor, Kristin Kornoelje, describes her comments as picky. I find them brilliantly insightful. Kristin's the one who catches inconsistencies, overuse of individual words, and unclear motivation. I thank her, and so should you, because my stories are better as a result of her pickiness.

Michele Misiak continues to amaze me with her innovative
methods of promoting my books and her boundless energy. Although her title is Marketing Manager, she coordinates so many aspects of the publishing process that she's become my go-to person whenever I have a question. And, even though her inbox is overflowing and her schedule packed, she's unfailingly quick to respond. Thanks, Michele!

Art Director Cheryl Van Andel is an author's dream come true. She's never content with a merely good cover but keeps working with the artists to make each one great. Since she's given me consistently beautiful covers, I had high expectations for this one. What I didn't expect was that Cheryl would leave me speechless. Those of you who've met me know that doesn't happen very often, but when I received an email from Cheryl saying that the artist couldn't find a suitable gown for the cover model and that she was going to have one made specifically for my book, I was flabbergasted, flattered, and—yes—speechless. As if that weren't enough, Cheryl let me select the gown's design and color. What can I say other than that I was thrilled to be part of the process and even more thrilled with the final product?

I am deeply grateful to Vicki, Kristin, Michele, Cheryl, and the rest of the Revell staff for everything they do to make my books the best possible.

Dreams have always been an important part of Amanda Cabot's life. For almost as long as she can remember, she dreamt of being an author. Fortunately for the world, her grade-school attempts as a playwright were not successful, and she turned her attention to writing novels. Her dream of selling a book before her thirtieth birthday came true, and she's been spinning tales ever since. She now has more than twenty-five novels to her credit under a variety of pseudonyms.

Amanda is a member of ACFW, a charter member of Romance Writers of America, and an avid traveler. She married her high school sweetheart, who shares her love of travel and who's driven thousands of miles to help her research her books. A few years ago they fulfilled a longtime dream and are now living in the American West.

T
EXAS
D
REAMS

Paper Roses

Scattered Petals

Tomorrow's Garden

W
ESTWARD
W
INDS

Summer of Promise

Waiting for Spring

Christmas Roses

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