Carol: Sweet Western Historical Romance (Brides of Archer Ranch Book 2) Page 13

  She leaned over for her lemonade and saw that Will had left his coat over the chair beside her. She ran her fingers over the fabric, remembering how dashing she’d thought he’d looked when he’d come in, just before she’d spoken with the doctor. She picked it up, thinking she might try to find him and return it and as she did, a drawing fell out of the pocket.

  She knew she probably shouldn’t look, but she adored his drawings and was always anxious to see any new ones. She unrolled it and spread it out over her blue skirt.

  She blinked several times before she caught her breath. She couldn’t believe that he’d drawn the perfect image of Charlie, and had even found some sort of color to make his breast red. In the bottom right hand corner, he’d written, “For Carol. This is how I see you—free, just like Charlie.”

  She held her hand to her mouth to stop another sob as she looked around the garden for Will. As she searched, she felt someone approach from behind her and two strong hands fell on her shoulders.

  She reached her hand up and rested it on one of them, the tingling sensation familiar. Will.

  Her head fell to the side and she rested her cheek on his warm hand, her eyes filling with tears once more. She breathed in his scent and her heart broke all over again.

  He squeezed her shoulders and came around in front of her, squatting so that his eyes met hers. She saw pain in his deep brown eyes and hoped she hadn’t been the cause—she couldn’t bear it.

  “Carol, I need to tell you something.”

  “Will, we’ve said all there is to say. I’m broken, and you can’t fix me.”

  Her brow arched and she sat back as he said, “Shush,” and held up a hand to silence her. He’d never done that before. She’d mostly done the talking, but she rested against the back of the chair, willing to let him have his say, yearning for him to speak.

  He reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I don’t ever want to hear you say you’re broken, ever again. You’re not broken. You’re the most complete, wonderful person I’ve ever met. I won’t have you talking about someone I love like that.”

  “What are you talking—” was all she could get out before he touched her lips with his finger, stopping her once again.

  The music started once more and their friends headed toward the center of the patio to dance. Will looked back over his shoulder and turned to her, his eyes twinkling.

  “Carol, would you dance with me?”

  She frowned, thinking he was mocking her. How could he? He knew how upset she was. “Will, you know I can’t dance,” she said quietly as she looked down at her legs.

  “Sure you can,” he said, and she gasped as he swooped in, picked her up out of the chair and headed to the patio. “You’d better hold on. We’re going for a spin.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh as she looked up into his eyes and his never left hers. She reached her arms around his neck and smiled as he spun her around on the dance floor until she was dizzy. He stopped right in the middle of the song and she lifted her head from his shoulder where she’d rested it, at peace to the rhythm of his strong heartbeat.

  “Carol, this might not be the right time or the right way, but if I don’t say it now, I might never get it out.”

  She looked up at him and her eyebrows rose. “What is it, Will? Are you all right?”

  “Well, I will be if I get the answer I want. Carol Benson, I love you. I have always loved you. You have never been a burden and never will be, and I’d be honored if you’d agree to be my wife.”

  Carol gasped and her hand fell to her chest. She’d never heard him say that much at one time before, and she never in her wildest dreams thought she’d hear him say exactly that.

  “Will Stanton, are you sure? You know I can’t even make cookies,” she said as she looked up into his deep eyes.

  “Take that back. Those were the best cookies I’d ever tasted and I can’t wait to have some more,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at her.

  “Oh, Will,” she said as her head fell back and she laughed. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms more tightly around him. “I would be honored to be your wife. Now and forever.”

  She closed her eyes as she saw his sweet smile and he leaned in, his warm lips gently pressing hers. She hadn’t been sure she’d ever feel a kiss at all, let alone one that made her heart sing and her toes tingle. Yes, she thought they were tingling, but even if they weren’t it was the most wonderful sensation in the world.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She gasped as he spun her around once more. She hadn’t noticed the music had stopped and everyone was watching them, smiles all around. And she thought her heart might burst right then and there as Will stopped spinning and announced, “Everybody, Carol Benson has agreed to be my wife and I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  He kissed her again, and the sound of applause faded as she thought she, in fact, was the luckiest woman in the world.

  Epilogue

  Will stepped back and surveyed the frames of the walls to his new house lying on the ground. He’d worked for days and days on the design and he was grateful that Jacob, the best carpenter he’d been able to find and who’d worked with him day and night on Carol’s new chair, had agreed to help him craft it in a way that Carol could manage to get into every room on her own and even down the porch steps.

  He’d fashioned a ramp for her in Adam’s house as an experiment, and it had worked well. He’d been encouraged, and he and Jacob had come up with an entire house that could be hers—every nook and cranny.

  He couldn’t wait for her to see the kitchen, as they’d designed everything to be within reach for her, icebox included. Joe had fashioned special shelves and his excitement for the project had just made him love his brother even more.

  He looked up at the blue, cloudless sky and wished that his pa were there to see the walls raised. It was bad enough that he’d had to tell his ma and Aunt Dorothy to mind their own business and that he’d known from the beginning that Carol was the one for him. He wished he hadn’t had to make that decision but there it was. Done, now. He would miss them at Sunday dinners, but that was their choice, and he knew he and Carol would have a happy life, with or without them.

  He felt bad for Joe, left in the house on his own with Ma, but when he’d asked his brother if he was all right, Joe had responded, “You let me handle Ma. You just make that pretty girl happy, or you’ll have me to answer to. Me and Pa.”

  As he circled the new house one last time, he spotted pink buds growing in the beds Carol had planted. She’d shown them to him the first time he’d been to visit her, the first day she’d told him about Charlie. Now, as he bent over to pick some for her, he heard a quick chirp up in the shade tree.

  He pushed his hat back and stood, his hand tightening on the bouquet, and caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

  He shielded his eyes from the sun as the robin flew away, its wings whooshing as it crossed over toward the desert. As he watched the bird disappear, he said, “Thanks, Charlie. I promise I’ll take good care of her. I’ll be here to catch her if she falls.”

  ***

  Carol closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the soft, sleek fabric of the chair with wheels—the new one that Will had fashioned for her and given her as a wedding gift. She’d always known that he had amazing ideas, but he’d outdone himself with this one.

  The black fabric that covered the soft cushions was embroidered with big, colorful flowers, the effect stunning. He and Joe had designed it with handles in the back so she could be pushed rather than pulled and larger wheels, big enough for her to turn on her own without poles.

  She thought of the poles Will had made for her weeks ago—the poles that had changed her life forever—and she could still feel the soft leather in her hands when she tried. His gift had been perfect and her heart swelled at the ingenuity of it—her husband was brilliant.

  And now, as she ran her fingers along the be
autiful, gold fringe, it still surprised her that he’d come up with something so clever, so useful—just for her.

  The chair had several adjustments, one for her to lean back as she was now under the shade tree and put her legs up, like a chaise lounge, and then be turned back into a movable chair quite easily. With lemonade to her right on the table in the garden, she took one last look up at the sky, grateful for her husband as she awaited their guests.

  It felt good to rest after all the cooking and baking that she and Saffron had done in preparation for the house-raising. She was only able to cook with Saffron for the party because Will had re-arranged the kitchen in Saffron and Adam’s house. They’d decided to stay there while their own small house was being built behind her brother’s house so they could be close—Saffron was her best friend, after all, and as sorry as she was for the rift between Will and his mother, she was grateful that she wouldn’t be leaving her brothers and Saffron.

  That decision had been a natural one after Will’s mother had loudly objected to their marriage—egged on by her sister, the Widow Samson—and Will had to put his foot down. Just the memory tugged at Carol’s heart, that Will had chosen to marry her and leave his mother, and that Mrs. Stanton had chosen to stop speaking to her son rather than be joyful for their marriage—but Will wouldn’t hear of anything different. His resolve had been firm and she’d finally accepted it, and Will and his mother no longer spoke.

  The sweet scent of flowers interrupted her thoughts and she opened her eyes, thrilled at the bouquet of pink buds right in front of her.

  “Are you ready? I thought you might like these,” Will said from behind her, and she laid her cheek on the warm hand he’d rested on her shoulder, the familiar tingle thrilling her.

  “I am.” She smiled as he came around in front of her, nudging her legs over as he sat down on the end of the cushioned chair. She loved when he did that as it made her feel closer to him, like they could share the incredible chair he’d made. “The food table is ready and people should be here shortly.”

  He smiled at her, taking her hand in his and squeezing as he looked at the table set on the back porch of Adam and Saffron’s house, within easy distance from where their new house would be. “I grabbed one of the cookies you made and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, his deep brown eyes meeting hers.

  She nudged him, horrified once again at the memory of the cookies she’d made when they’d first met and left out sugar entirely. She’d known right then and there how kind he was as he never said a word—just chewed and smiled.

  “I think these might be better, but I can never trust you. You say everything I make is delicious and I know that can’t be true.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her gently, the touch of his lips sending warmth all the way to her heart. She closed her eyes again, never wanting the feel of him so close to end.

  “I don’t lie, and you’re getting better every day. Just wait until we have our own house and I can arrange the kitchen just so you can do whatever you want.”

  “That should be by the end of the week if today goes well,” Adam said as he walked down the ramp of his back porch that Will had designed for the chair with wheels. “If we get the frame raised today, the rest will go fast.”

  Carol looked over beyond the tree, marveling at the work that had been completed so quickly. All of their friends had come together and, based on Will’s design, had gotten all the framing done in record time. And today was the day—the day everyone was coming to raise the walls. She couldn’t believe that she’d finally have a home of her own, and a husband who loved her and whom she loved with all of her heart. Just for them.

  “Can’t you two just stop that goo-goo eyed stuff?” Andy said as he ran by carrying extra hammers and nails for the guests that were expected. “It’s—well, it’s—”

  Newlywed eyes. Carol’s heart soared at the thought that she and Will had what she’d seen in Saffron and Adam and even Sage toward the doctor and been envious. It was hers, now, too—this great joy and love that made her heart feel as big as the endless desert beyond their future home. Even bigger, for it was her own, now and forever. Love, to give and to receive.

  “Hey!” Will shouted as he hopped up and chased Andy down, tackling him on the small patch of green under the tree. She laughed as Will tousled Andy’s hair and her little brother burst into a fit of giggles, and she wondered if it could get any better. A fleeting hope crossed her mind that she and Will might be parents, but she let it pass. She felt incredibly blessed as shouts from the porch rang out from all of the Archer family, Sadie and Suzanne and their families—pies and hammers in hand—as everyone gathered to make her dream a reality. She was incredibly grateful now, and knew her future would be better than she’d ever dared to imagine.

  The End

  Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed Carol’s story. If you’d like to hear about new release discounts, sign up for my new release alerts at:

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  If you enjoyed this book and want to read more like it, Michelle: Bride of Mississippi, part of the unprecedented, 50-book, 50-state American Mail Order Brides series, is available to you to read for free. Download it here:

  Michelle: Bride of Mississippi

  Afterword

  Wild West Frontier Brides Series

  The Chef’s Mail Order Bride (1)

  The Wrangler’s Mail Order Bride (2)

  The Bartender’s Mail Order Bride (3)

  The Teacher’s Mail Order Bride (4)

  Saffron: Bride of Archer Ranch (5)

  The following Cindy Caldwell books are part of the unprecedented, 50-author American Mail Order Brides series.

  50 days, 50 books, 50 states.

  Michelle, Bride of Mississippi

  Josephine, Bride of Louisiana

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  Michelle, Bride of Mississippi

  This book has gone through numerous proofreaders, professional and otherwise . If you find any typos or grammatical errors, I’d love to hear about them. I want this to be the best it can be. Please let me know at:

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  Carol: Bride of Archer Ranch is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.