Authors: Beth Williamson
“I am ready now.” She smiled and took their hands and they walked together, for the last time, toward the man she would spend her life with.
There was a small crowd gathered, waiting for them. John stood beside the young minister. She barely saw the man of the cloth—she could not look away from her soon-to-be husband. He stood tall, his blue eyes locked on her, handsomer than any man she’d ever seen. She could hardly believe this man had captured her heart and she his.
When she finally arrived at his side, he held out his hand. Her parents kissed her cheek and stepped away. Frankie’s hand shook as she took John’s. When his callused one enfolded hers, a feeling of rightness raced through her.
Yes
.
This was where she belonged, by his side, partner, lover, friend. He squeezed her fingers and she stepped closer until their bodies nearly touched. They turned to face the minister and Frankie took a deep breath.
Within minutes, they were married, the expeditious methods requested by Buck Avery. The wagon train had to leave and their wedding delayed the departure. John turned to kiss her. With a grin that made her cheeks hurt, she pressed her lips to her husband’s.
A cheer rose around them. He picked her up and twirled her in a circle, the sun shining around them, making her eyes prick with tears. Frankie laughed, her heart lighter than the air around her.
He set her back on her feet. The crowd surrounded them, offering congratulations. The men clapped John on the back, her sisters swarmed her.
“I can’t believe you’re married.” Charlotte was wide-eyed. “Married!”
Isabelle chuckled. “It’s not the first marriage in the world, Charlie.”
“People get married all the time.” Josephine folded her arms. “I do not plan on marrying anyone myself.”
Isabelle raised one brow. “I do, but not before we get to Oregon. One day I will find my own man who will love me like John loves our sister.”
Frankie smiled at them. “I have no doubt you will each find a mate who loves you.”
“Not me.” Charlotte shook her head. “Because then I’ll lose my family.”
The sentiment made all the sisters pause, then Frankie pulled them into an embrace. “I will miss you all so much, but we will never lose each other. Ever. I will carry you in her heart and someday we will see each other again.”
“Sorry to break this up, but it’s time to go, folks.” Buck Avery’s booming voice broke through the excited crowd.
“Oh no.” Charlie hugged her tighter.
Frankie kissed her youngest sister’s forehead. “Do not worry,
petite
, you have adventure ahead and a new life in Oregon.”
Charlie looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t love you.”
Frankie smiled. “I know.”
By the time she gave one last hug for each of her sisters, then her parents, the wagons had already started moving. This was it, the moment Frankie truly became a Malloy, no longer a Chastain. Josephine lingered behind, her gaze pensive.
“I cannot believe you will not be with us.” Josephine blinked behind her spectacles.
“I will always be with you.” Frankie squeezed her hands. “I need you to keep the other girls in order and help Maman and Papa.”
“I will. Be careful, Frankie.”
Frankie worried about Josephine more than any of her sisters. She held herself so tightly, there was no room for anyone else to get near her. She hoped one day someone could break through her shell and find the wonderful woman beneath.
“Goodbye, Jo.” Frankie couldn’t stop herself from hugging her sister one more time and then she was gone.
John stood by holding the horses’ reins, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Are you ready, Mrs. Malloy?”
The name echoed through her heart, chasing away any lingering sadness about leaving her family. Mrs. Malloy. She was now part of her own family, one she would build with the man she loved. The future lay ahead of them, full of promise and joy.
She smiled at him. “
Oui
. I am ready,
Monsieur
Malloy.” Frankie took her husband’s hand. The breeze ruffled his hair and she could not imagine a more beautiful sight. “I love you.”
He tugged her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “I love you too, Frankie. Now let’s ride.”
With a whoop, he plucked her off the ground and set her on Liberté. She took the reins and looked across the prairie. He handed up her hat, then swung into his own saddle.
“Wait, where is Leon?” She glanced around, concerned the dog had gotten lost. “Leon!”
“Is that dog coming with us?” He scowled. “He might give us fleas.”
She laughed. “He is part of our family, John.”
A bark sounded from up the hill. The furry Leon stood by, waiting for them, pointing the way toward John’s land. Frankie laughed and kneed her horse into motion, followed by her husband. Their life had just begun, their love would only grow stronger.
Frankie raised her face to the sky and let loose a shout of joy. The Malloys were on their way.
About the Author
Beth Williamson, who also writes as Emma Lang, is an award-winning, bestselling author of both historical and contemporary romances. Her books range from sensual to scorching hot. She is a Career Achievement Award Nominee in Erotic Romance by Romantic Times Magazine, in both 2009 and 2010.
Beth has always been a dreamer, never able to escape her imagination. It led her to the craft of writing romance novels. She’s passionate about purple, books and her family. She has a weakness for shoes and purses, as well as bookstores. Her path in life has taken several right turns, but she’s been with the man of her dreams for more than 20 years.
Beth works full-time and writes romance novels evenings, weekends, early mornings and whenever there is a break in the madness. She is compassionate, funny, a bit reserved at times, tenacious and a little quirky. Her cowboys and western romances speak of a bygone era, bringing her readers to an age where men were honest, hard and packing heat. For a change of pace, she also dives into some smokin’ hot contemporaries, bringing you heat, romance and snappy dialogue.
Life might be chaotic, as life usually is, but Beth always keeps a smile on her face, a song in her heart, and a cowboy on her mind. ;)
Look for these titles by Beth Williamson
Now Available:
Marielle’s Marshal
Branded
Endless Heart
(as Emma Lang)
The Malloy Family
The Bounty
The Prize
The Reward
The Treasure
The Gift
The Tribute
The Legacy
Hell for Leather
Devils on Horseback
Nate
Jake
Zeke
Lee
Gideon
Private Lives
On His Knees
Handing over the reins is hard. Handing over his heart…damn near impossible.
Gideon
© 2011 Beth Williamson
Devils on Horseback, Book 5
Gideon Blackwood is on the run—from Tanger’s meddling matchmakers. With no intention of following the rest of the Devils down the aisle, he heads for the hills to reassess a life spent leading and caring for others…and runs smack into the business end of a shotgun. At the trigger: a curmudgeonly woman with a broken axle and a load of responsibility.
In Chloe Ruskin’s experience, men take what they want and leave a mess of trouble behind. The safety of two orphans and her granny is at stake, and the last thing she needs is Gideon’s “help”. This time, though, she has no choice but to allow the big cowboy to fix her wagon.
As they work into the night, grudging admiration grows into attraction—and desire. Gideon finds he can’t dig his boot heels in hard enough to avoid falling for the opinionated little female.
When Chloe’s family disappears, her suspicion threatens to destroy any spark of love before it catches fire. Gideon finds himself making promises his pride won’t let him break—even if it costs him the love of the woman who owns the missing half of his soul.
Warning: Beware of a strong hero with a stubborn streak a mile wide and a heroine with enough gumption to fill the entire state of Texas. Discover love, hot sex and an amazing, dangerous adventure.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Gideon:
May 1868
“Who the hell are you?”
Gideon Blackwood stopped in his tracks, a puff of dust kicking up from his boots. He kept his arms at his sides, his breathing even, although his heart thundered like a horse’s hooves. From the gruff, raspy quality of the voice behind him, he didn’t know who he was dealing with.
“My name is Gideon Blackwood.”
“What do you think you’re doing sneaking around my wagon, Gideon Blackwood?”
Ah, it was definitely a woman. Whoever she was, she’d be no match for a man of his size, no matter how angry she sounded. As a veteran of the Civil War and countless battles, midnight raids and numerous wounds, not much scared him.
He turned around slowly so as not to spook her. To his surprise, he found a short figure wearing a dress that could’ve been used to hold potatoes and a floppy, ugly-as-hell wide hat that completely hid her face. The one thing that kept his attention was the pistol in her hand. That hand wasn’t shaking either. He took stock of his opponent in the blink of an eye. She was barely over five feet tall, her shape hidden by the sack she wore. Gideon took a step toward her, and she cocked the gun.
“Answer the question.” Her tone was as cold as the metal of the barrel.
Gideon couldn’t judge her age since her face was covered and her voice deep for a female. She could be twelve or ninety, which meant he couldn’t estimate how fast she’d be if he decided to disarm her.
Damn.
“I was riding to Grayton to see a friend of mine. I saw the busted wheel on the wagon and thought I could help.” He never expected his attempt would result in having a woman hold a gun on him.
“Hero, eh? You a Johnny Reb?”
Gideon clenched his fists as he told himself to ignore the caustic nickname. He’d fought in the war for what he thought was right, same as every other man. It had been three years since the war ended, and she had no call to insult him. He had to keep his control, no matter what flew out of her mouth.
“We’re all just folks now, ma’am. I’m no hero, and I sure don’t want to be shot for trying to help out other folks in need. I’ll be on my way.” Gideon took a step away from the wagon. The stupid gelding placidly munched on grass while his master had a gun pointed at him.
“Hold it, mister. I didn’t give you leave to walk away.” She took a step sideways, and her boots crunched on the dirt.
“I don’t need your permission, lady. Now either shoot me or let me go, because I’m done standing here jawin’ with you.” This time he did walk toward his horse.
“Wait, uh, please.” The words seemed torn from her throat. “We do need help.” She sighed so hard he’d swear the grass moved from the force of it.
He almost kept walking. Almost. But the Southern gentleman inside him protested loudly. A woman asking for help was never ignored, no matter how ornery she was. Gideon sometimes cursed his sense of honor; it could be a pain in the ass.
Perhaps it was his own stress making him short-tempered. He’d left Tanger behind, along with all the pressures from his friends and family. If one more person had shoved a sister or daughter at him, proclaiming Gideon the most eligible bachelor in town, he’d have punched someone. Then his cousin Zeke, as sheriff, would have had to put his ass in jail. Instead Gideon had left town, or escaped was more like it. He had been headed to their friend Nate’s ranch over in Grayton, several days’ ride from Tanger if he was riding alone and unhindered.
Now, of course, it would take him much longer, considering he had stopped to help someone. Or rather been held at gunpoint when he tried to help. Gideon needed to relax, to get away from the loco idea he required a wife. Just because his cousins Zeke and Lee and his half brother Jake had found marital bliss, didn’t mean Gideon had to. Although Nate was also happily married, his wife Eliza was a trouser-wearing straight shooter who would likely never try to force a female on anyone.
He needed to get to Grayton.
Gideon turned back toward her, hands on hips. “What do you need help with?” Too bad he sounded as gracious as she did, which was not at all.
“The wheel broke.”
“I can see that.”
She snorted. “I ain’t big enough to get the wagon up on my own, and Granny can’t get the new wheel on. We’ve been stuck here for a few days now.”
“There are two of you?” He glanced around but didn’t see another soul.