Page 35 of The Forever Cowboy (Noble Ranch #1)

She was actually getting married. She was really doing it this time.

Violet stood beside Sterling at the center of the cabin, in front of Reverend Livingston.

Compared to the burly cowboys in the room, the reverend seemed so small of stature.

But he was kind and had been the first time she’d met him.

Thankfully, he’d been willing to go along with her scheme and had accompanied Beckett on the ride from town to the cabin.

Next to her, Hyacinth acted as a witness, and Beckett was beside Sterling as a second witness. Beckett wasn’t wearing his usual scowl, but he didn’t seem happy about the union.

Violet didn’t blame him for still having doubts about her intentions. Maybe it would take time to prove to him that she was a changed woman. Maybe it would take time to prove to herself that she was changing. She would likely still battle her fears at times. Like now…

She’d clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking, but beneath her voluminous skirt, her legs wobbled. Even so, she tried to focus on what the reverend was saying.

“Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband,” he said, “to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?

Wilt thou obey him and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health?

And forsaking all others, keep thee only to him, so long as you both shall live? ”

The anxiety in her chest was swirling and rising and starting to choke off the air in her lungs. She tried to draw in a breath, but she felt suddenly like she was drowning.

Sterling had already spoken his vows with certainty and strength. Why couldn’t she do the same?

She closed her eyes and forced herself to remember all the qualities about Sterling she loved, all the many things that were so different from her father. Sterling was reliable and had roots and didn’t run away from commitment. He loved her more than himself.

In the next instant, his arm gently circled behind her back, holding her up and being there for her in this moment of her past creeping back out to torment her.

Sterling was not her father. His presence was stable and his love steadfast. She couldn’t forget that.

“Violet?” the reverend prompted gently.

She nodded, opened her eyes, then shifted so that she could see Sterling. “I will. I will. I will.”

“Wonderful,” said the reverend, his voice laced with relief.

Sterling’s furrowed brow smoothed out a little, and he offered her a reassuring smile. His face was covered with thick, dark stubble, and his hair was mussed from his ride up to the cabin, but he’d never looked more appealing than at that moment.

“Now for the giving of the ring.” The reverend held out his prayer book expectantly.

Sterling stared at it. Of course, he hadn’t known he was getting married today, so why would he have brought a ring along. “I don’t—”

“Here.” Beckett placed a delicate band onto the book.

Sterling glanced at it, then nodded his thanks at Beckett.

Violet’s breath snagged at the sight of it—a golden ring engraved with tiny, detailed flowers—violets. “It’s beautiful.” And thoughtful and perfect, just like him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, “but it’s the ring I had made for you previously.”

“I love it. And I wouldn’t want any other ring.” It would stand as a reminder of all they’d gone through and all the ways they’d grown together.

The reverend cleared his throat. “Shall we continue?”

“Yes,” she said at the same time as Sterling.

He smiled again, his warm brown eyes melting her. By the time he slid the ring down her finger, she was nothing more than a puddle on the floor.

Reverend Livingston led them through the rest of the ceremony, but it was a blur to Violet because all she could think about was how good Sterling was to her and how she wanted to prove herself worthy of his love.

After the reverend gave the benediction and final prayer, he closed his prayer book. “I now pronounce that you are man and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Sterling was watching her closely, as if gauging whether she might get spooked and run away. Beckett, too, had narrowed his eyes on her, and Hyacinth was holding Violet’s arm, her grip tightening.

She was done running away from her problems. She knew of only one way to prove it to everyone. She lifted on her toes, wrapped her arms around Sterling’s neck, and dragged him down into a kiss.

She fused her mouth with his, hoping to communicate to him that she was his wife now and that nothing would ever change that. She would never leave him and would always be by his side.

His mouth met hers eagerly, as though he understood the message she was trying to communicate and was giving her a message of his own: that he would always cherish her in a way that no man ever had before.

She could taste his power and hunger, and it stirred something within her, the desire for more. She pressed in closer, and his hands slid up her back.

“Save it for later,” came Beckett’s testy growl.

She broke away from Sterling first, the heat of embarrassment rushing through her at Beckett’s bold insinuation. With a flush infusing her cheeks, she took a step away from Sterling.

He didn’t let go of her, only shifting his hands to her waist. And he didn’t take his eyes from her, the brown now hazy and hot, reaching across the distance to sear her.

“Time for us to go.” Hyacinth gave Violet a half hug.

Violet was grateful Hyacinth had assisted her with all the wedding planning that morning, ensuring that everything had worked out just the way it should. She’d even asked Beckett to help them pull off the surprise, and he’d grudgingly agreed.

“Take all the time you need, boss.” Beckett slapped Sterling good-naturedly on his back. “We brought up enough food to last you a week.”

“A week?” Sterling’s brow rose.

“For your honeymoon here at the cabin.”

Sterling, for the first time, seemed to take in the supplies that they’d brought with them—food staples, clothing, fresh blankets, and more. He turned to his foreman and shook his hand.

After more hugs and thanks, Hyacinth, Beckett, and the reverend started out across the snow on their skis. Violet snuggled against Sterling’s side as they stood in the doorway and watched them disappear through the snowy woodland.

When they were finally alone, Sterling bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, wife.”

She was his wife. A place inside her trembled—this time not in fear but in anticipation. “Are you hungry? I had Alonzo prepare your favorite meal.”

Sterling wrapped both arms around her, pulled her inside, and then closed the door. “I’m very hungry. For you.” He lowered his lips to hers and gave her a quick but voracious kiss.

Her chest ached with a hunger of her own. She wanted more of his kisses, more of him.

Taking in the table setting and special meal, he started to pull away.

She didn’t let him go and instead smiled up at him. “There’s only one thing I’d like right now.”

He halted. “What’s that?”

“More of your kisses.”

A slow smile curved up his lips and filled his eyes. “I think I can oblige you.”

“I hope so.”

He tugged her back into his arms, lowered his mouth to hers, and obliged her to the fullest.