And One Rode West (55 page)
“So?”
“So …” He paused and kissed her. Kissed her long and leisurely, savoring the taste and touch and feel of her lips, the brush of their bodies just barely touching one another.
“So?” she repeated one last time.
He smiled, his mouth just a breath away from hers. “So we will worry about it later. As wonderful as Josiah’s aunts are, he will want his supper, and soon. And for now—though I would deprive my son of nothing—I’m afraid I want his mother too. And so I must take my time now.”
“And the future?”
“It will come tomorrow. It always does.”
She smiled. And then her smile was captured in the heat of his next kiss.
The fire raged high and golden around them. The summer cottage enveloped them, a haven for their love, providing them sweet secrecy and enchantment.
Somewhere nearby, the river drifted ever onward. The breeze stirred over the James. Timelessly.
Life went on.
The war was over, Christa reflected. Wherever she was, the war had ended.
They might ride westwardly once again. There was so much to be done in the years to come, the expansion would be tremendous. The frontier was opening as it never had before. There were so many ready for war with the Indians in the West, ready to decimate them. Men like Jeremy—men of peace and strength—would be needed.
They might build here. There was so much needed in the South too. A lot had been done. The land itself was beginning to cover over some of the scars of war. But so much more would be necessary. And yes, it would take years. Decades, maybe. But like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a new South would form. Different.
They would be entering an age of progress, of learning, of growth. The South needed good men and women too.
Which would it be for them?
She didn’t know. They needed time. To think, to dream, to talk.
And, she thought, meeting the silver of his gaze and smiling slowly in the comfort of his arms, it didn’t matter.
Just as she held Jeremy’s heart in her hands, he held hers within the tender grasp of his own.
He stirred, holding her close, kissing her forehead.
She smiled within his embrace. It had been a long, long road. A long time since she had stood by the gates of the family cemetery, feeling that she was being torn from her roots, from all that she loved. From all that Jassy and Jamie had built.
But she knew now that Jassy and Jamie would most certainly understand.
Truly, it didn’t matter where she was.
She had finally come home.
Dedication
This one is dedicated to some of the heroes in my own life.
In memory of my father, Ellsworth D. “Dan” Graham, who gave me wings with which to dream and fly. As long as I live, I will cherish his memory.
For my father-in-law, Alphonse Pozzessere, for being the kindest, sweetest man in the world, and having been there for us, so consistently, all these years.
For my stepfather, William Sherman, a gentleman beyond measure. Mom, you got lucky twice!
For my husband, Dennis, for keeping the love, the passion—and the conflict!—so fresh throughout all the boundaries of time. The years just make things better!
And for my three sons, Jason, Shayne, and Derek. I cannot imagine life without them.
Books by Heather Graham from Dell
SWEET SAVAGE EDEN
A PIRATE’S PLEASURE
LOVE NOT A REBEL
DEVIL’S MISTRESS
EVERY TIME I LOVE YOU
GOLDEN SURRENDER
THE VIKING’S WOMAN
ONE WORE BLUE
AND ONE WORE GREY
AND ONE ROAD WEST
LORD OF THE WOLVES
RUNAWAY
SPIRIT OF THE SEASON
Heather Graham lives in Florida with her husband and five children. Formerly a professional model, she has written thirteen bestselling historical romances, including the
New York Times
bestseller
And One Rode West
.
