The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,88

He couldn’t tell for sure. He’d hoped dead would feel better than this, but who could say for certain?

Before he could take inventory to see if he still had most of his body parts, a fuzzy haze overtook him and he dozed off.

A few hours later—or maybe it was a century, he wasn’t certain—he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to realize he was sprawled in bed at Doc Lewis’s infirmary. He turned his head sideways to see Boston draped uncomfortably in the chair beside him.

Quin tried to ease onto his side so he could reach out to limn the refined features of her enchanting face, but it hurt to move. He groaned involuntarily, causing Boston to come awake instantly. Her green eyes were noticeably puffy from crying. There were red welts on her cheek and a concerned frown etched her brow.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered as she combed her hand through his tousled hair.

“Like hell,” he croaked. “How about you?”

“The same. It’s killing me to know I’m responsible for your injury. I was trying to help and I made matters worse.”

“I already told you it’s not your fault.”

She glanced away, shifted uncomfortably, then murmured, “Do you remember what I said after we managed to drag you onto Cactus’s back?”

“Sorry, no. I guess I blacked out. What’d you say?”

She bit her lip, then smiled ruefully. “I don’t know if it will make you feel better or worse. Maybe I should let it be.”

“Spit it out, Boston. It isn’t like you to mince words.”

She took an enormous breath, as if she were diving off a cliff into fathomless depths. “I’m in love with you.”

Quin smiled faintly. “Are you saying that because you know I’m dying?”

She shook her head adamantly, sending the chestnut-colored braid rippling over her shoulder. “I realized I loved you before I managed to get you shot. You aren’t dying. The bullet missed vital organs but it nicked muscles and ligaments. Doc Lewis patched you up and said you’d be stiff and sore for a couple of weeks.” She squeezed his hand. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean you’re obligated—”

He pressed his forefinger to her lips, wishing he had the strength to pull her into his arms and hold her close. “I love you, too, Boston,” he whispered earnestly. “There aren’t the right words to describe how much you mean to me.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” she huffed, but grinned—and he felt a hundred times better when he basked in the warmth of her glorious smile.

“I kept silent because I didn’t think you wanted me and I didn’t want to crowd your independent space,” he replied.

She pressed her lush mouth to his. “I want you like crazy and you can crowd my space anytime you please, Cahill.” Her long thick lashes fluttered down to shield her gaze as she trailed her fingertip over his jaw and cheek. “Are you going to ask me to marry you?”

“No. Every man you know proposes to you,” he reminded her. “I don’t want to be anything like them because I’m not after your money.” He grinned rakishly—and wondered if he’d been able to pull it off since he wasn’t an accomplished ladies’ man. “I’m fascinated with your fiery spirit, your intelligence and your gorgeous body. All of the person you are. But you’ll have to ask me if you want to move to 4C and stay forever because that’s how long I promise to love you, Boston. You are my heart.”

“I want to be with you always, Cahill,” she choked out as tears dribbled down her cheeks. “Marry me.”

“Name the time and place,” he insisted as he rerouted her tears with the pad of his thumb.

“On two conditions,” she negotiated.

“Here it comes,” he grumbled playfully. “What do I have to do to keep you with me forevermore?”

“I want to add my herd of longhorns to yours and find out what it’s like to make the trail drive to Dodge City. Doc says you’ll be up and around by then.”

Quin blew out his breath. “Damn it, Boston. Spring trail drives are notorious for violent storms, bandits, stampedes, dangerous river crossings and renegade Indians on the way to Kansas.”

She got that determined tilt to her chin that he’d come to recognize at a glance. “You are not going without me and that’s that, Cahill. I crave new experiences and adventure.”

“I was hoping our marriage would be adventure enough,” he mumbled.

She grinned and said, “Has it occurred to you that I don’t want

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