Page 114 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
Roan hugged her, careful not to muss anything. She was older than his mom had been, but she was comfortable, warm, and well-used to hugging. He let her hold him for a few moments and then he whispered, “Thanks, Tessa. For everything.”
She knew what he meant by that—the many layers of his gratitude—and she kissed his cheek. “Ditto, Roan.”
The rest of the day was a whirlwind. There were final details to nail down with the producers, guests to greet, phone calls to take and texts to reply to, and before he knew it, it was showtime.
Roan’s clothes stuck to him in the Louisiana humidity as he stood at the end of a long, red piece of carpet, looking out at rows of white folding chairs and surrounded by sprays of flowers. Their guests all gazed back at him with open, loving expressions. He could feel sweat sliding down his back and the side of his face. He didn’t care. Sweat was part of his life now. Like cattle, and horses, and gators. Like chickens, and organic produce, and hummingbirds.
Like Walker, who had arrived dramatically on Cormac’s back.
Roan’s lips twitched, with laughter or restrained tears, he didn’t know for sure. Walker looked damn fine up on that horse. His heart skittered and slipped, his joy rose like a bird in flight, and he lifted his hand to wave. “Howdy, cowboy,” he whispered.
Walker slid down to the ground, his boots hitting the earth with a thump. He grinned, tipped his hat back, exposing his face, and then whistled. Dana trotted up from the right with a basket in her mouth. Walker bent to take it from her, and patted her head in reward for her obedience. Then he lifted from the basket a single red rose and a horseshoe.
The guests, a combination of fellow farmers, Walker’s cousins, and folks from the show, broke into laughter. Walker grinned cockily, and then, while the string quartet Andy had hired played the Wedding March, he stalked down the aisle toward Roan.
Roan watched, lip between teeth, his heart squeezing and thumping, as the man he loved came at him with such determination and confidence. He lifted his chin, put out his hand, and waited.
When Walker reached the end of the aisle, he grabbed Roan’s fingers and then encircled Roan around the waist to plant a kiss on him. Roan’s knees went weak, and when Walker pulled back, he dropped down on one knee.
“Roan, will you accept this horseshoe as a token of the luck and love I’ve found in you? And will you be my husband?”
Roan chuckled, taking the horseshoe and the rose from him. “Was this Andy’s idea?”
Walker winked.
“Yes,” Roan said. “I’ll marry you. Even though you’ve proposed a dozen times before.”
Walker had started proposing to him off and on only a week after he’d moved from Ohio and into the farmhouse. The first time had been out in the field after Roan had watched him deliver a calf. The second time on the back of Cormac when they’d relived their first encounter just for fun. The third time had taken place under the covers, in the throes of passion. But the real proposal had been a month and a half ago, while standing under the stars, watching a lunar eclipse and talking quietly of the future. Walker had gone down on one knee, much as he was now, and asked, sincerely, and with such desperation that Roan had finally given the answer he’d withheld every other time.Yes.
“Yes, I’ll be your husband,” Roan said again.
Walker rose, took his hand and kissed the knuckles, before turning to the minister who’d baptized him as a baby. “We’re ready, whenever you are.”
The vows were traditional, short and sweet, and the ceremony was over before Roan knew it. They kissed, fast and hard, and then turned to their guests, who applauded and stood for them as they walked back down the aisle to a joyful piece of music Tessa had chosen.
Cormac waited for them, more or less patiently, only stomping once before Walker settled him with a hand.
“Up you go,” he said, hoisting Roan with his cupped hands.
Guests spilled from the tent to watch them leave. The sun set in a haze of gold and red, pink and orange, a spill of beautiful color and light. Walker headed directly into it, and Roan settled back against his big body, letting Walker take the reins. He closed his eyes, curious to see what Walker had in store for their wedding night. He only knew it wasn’t back at the farmhouse, and that it didn’t involve leeches, gators, or a tent.
He trusted Walker. Tonight was going to be beautiful. He couldn’t wait.
“You comfortable, little lion?” Walker’s voice settled him even more.
“I’m good.” He squeezed Walker’s thighs firmly. “Ride me off into the sunset, cowboy.”
With a laugh, Walker proceeded to do just that.
THE END