Authors: Sarah M. Anderson
Of course Ezra hadn’t come. She’d expected that, expected the tantrum Mikey would throw at having his world knocked out from under him.
“I want Cwarence,” he wept at one point.
“Me, too, honey. Me, too.”
She hadn’t expected Clarence to abandon her. And that was what hurt.
Eventually—after about an hour—Mikey calmed down enough that she could release him from her python-like full-body hold. He refused to eat any of the dinner that Mom had saved for him. No one tried to push it. No one wanted another round of hysterics. So Tammy helped him get into his jammies and put him back to bed. She didn’t even argue about brushing his teeth. They’d start over—again—tomorrow.
She was reading
Goodnight, Moon
to him when she heard it—a knock at the door. She tried not to react—Mikey was calm—but she tensed. The boy shot up in bed. “Who’s here?” he demanded, already fully awake.
“Honey, I don’t know,” she told him. Ezra? Clarence? Someone else? “But I’ll find out,” she promised. “You stay here. You’re supposed to be going to sleep.”
She hurried out as calmly as she could. She wouldn’t get her hopes up one way or the other. She would not.
But then she saw Clarence standing there, his brow furrowed with worry as Mom and Tara stared at him as if he were a buffalo that had wandered into the living room. No, not even a buffalo. Something rarer—like a wooly mammoth.
He was here. He’d come back. Oh, God. Please don’t let this be a dream, she thought, because if she’d fallen asleep while reading to Mikey and this wasn’t real, she wasn’t sure she could take another loss, even one that only happened in her mind.
Tammy must have made a noise when she saw him there because he looked up and everything about his face changed into a mix of regret and fear and need. “Clarence!”
“I missed dinner,” he said in a soft voice, like he was afraid he’d spook her. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me here or not.”
“It’s okay.” Which wasn’t true, of course. “I tried to call you, but you weren’t home.”
“I know.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but then a small, Spiderman-clad ball of energy came flying out of the bedroom and launched at Clarence.
“Where were you? Daddy didn’t come and I was sad,” Mikey said in as scolding a tone as he could pull off while smiling. “And Mommy was sad, too.”
“Hey, little man,” Clarence said as he swooped Mikey up into his arms and hugged the boy. “I got here as soon as I could. Didn’t want you or your mom to be sad.”
Even though he didn’t say the words to her, the sentiment still managed to put a small smile on her face. He
had
been thinking of her.
But more than that, he’d come back.
Mikey hugged him back. Tears started to prick at Tammy’s eyes. Mom sniffed and even Tara seemed to be touched.
“I have to talk to your mom some more,” Clarence said, setting Mikey down. “You need to go to sleep, okay?”
Mikey gave him a stern look even as he was still clinging to Clarence’s hand. “You’re not going to leave us, are you?”
“No, son, I’m not.”
Son
. It was the sort of thing a father might say to his child. Her heart tightened. If only . . .
Then Clarence appeared to realize that this exchange was taking place in front of the entire household. He patted Mikey on the head and said to Tammy, “Can I talk to you?”
Tammy shot a look to Mom, who got the hint faster than Tara. “Come on, sweetie, I’ll read you another story.” She picked up Mikey and carried him back to the bedroom.
Tara lingered a moment longer before she headed back to her room with a superior look. Clarence rolled his eyes and then smiled at Tammy. Yeah, they both still had to deal with Tara come tomorrow morning.
Then they were alone. Tammy wasn’t sure what she wanted to say at this point. Yes, it was wonderful that he’d come back. But he’d left her hanging for a few hours and she was drained from dealing with Mikey and Ezra and the whole stinking mess. She didn’t know if she was mad at him or thankful or what. All of the above, more than likely, and that was hard to put into words.
Suddenly, Clarence moved. He closed the distance between them in two massive steps, grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed the hell out of her.
Tammy was so surprised at first that she jerked her head up and caught his nose on hers. But then he pulled her into his chest and held her tight. She relaxed into his embrace. He’d come back for them. For
her
.
“I wasn’t trying to run away—not from you,” he said when the kiss ended. “I just—well, I had to think.” He gave her a sad sort-of smile as he cupped her cheek in his palm. “I shouldn’t have disappeared. I’m sorry. I would have been here sooner, but . . .”
“I was worried about you,” she told him. She touched the lines on his forehead. “Mikey was so upset and then Ezra didn’t show and you weren’t here and I felt . . .”
“Alone. I know. And I know Ezra is a part of your life and of Mikey’s whether he’s here or not.”
She rested her head against his chest. “I don’t want you to disappear. I know I might not have the right to ask that of you, but I don’t want you to go away. Not like tonight, not like Ezra did.” She knew she could survive on her own—well, with the help of her sister and mother, that was—but she didn’t want to be alone again. Not even for an evening.
He tilted her head back and gave her a small smile. “You know what I was going to do tonight, before it all went to hell in a handbasket?” She shook her head no. There was something in his eyes that was different—more serious. “I was going to go into town and do some Christmas shopping. But I don’t think I can wait for Christmas anymore.”
With that, he stepped back and dropped to his knees. Tammy’s eyes went wide. “Clarence?”
He took her hands in his. Such large hands—they surrounded hers with their strength. “Will you marry me, Tammy Tall Trees?”
She gaped at him, too stunned to speak. Her thoughts were a jumble. Married? After today?
Christmas
?
After a long second, during which her brain refused to process, Clarence’s confidence faltered. “I’ll understand if the answer’s no,” he hurried to say. “I’m not a young man and—”
That was as far as he got before Tammy threw her arms around his neck and kissed the words out of his mouth. So she didn’t have the words. Actions spoke louder.
He folded her into his arms again as he stood. “I’m not too old for you?”
“No, Clarence. You don’t mind being a father to Mikey?”
“Naw, he’s a great kid.” He grinned down at her as if he wasn’t sure if this were real or a dream. “You haven’t answered the question yet.”
She felt her own smile answering his. “You’re everything I wanted but I didn’t want to let myself hope. I’d hoped once and it’d blown up in my face. I didn’t want to risk myself again. And tonight I was afraid maybe I’d hoped too much. I want you
so
much.”
He hugged her harder than he’d ever hugged her before. “You’re perfect for me, Tammy. I promise I’ll never bail on you.” He kissed her again, and this time it packed more heat. “Let me make coffee for you every single morning for the rest of our lives. I’m yours.”
She started laughing and crying at the same time. To know that he’d be there for her—for their family—not just now, but forever. “Yes.
Yes
.”
Then they went to tell Mikey, because the rest of their lives started right now.
About the Author
Readers can find out more about Sarah’s love of cowboys and Indians at:
Her
Newsletter
Her
Website
On
Facebook
On Twitter: @SarahMAnderson1
By Snail Mail at:
Sarah M. Anderson
200 N 8th ST #193
Quincy IL 62301-9996
Award-winning author Sarah M. Anderson may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. When she started writing, it wasn’t long before her characters found themselves out in South Dakota among the Lakota Sioux. She loves to put people from two different worlds into new situations and see how their backgrounds and cultures take them someplace they never thought they’d go.
She’s sold over twenty-five books to Harlequin Desire and Superromance, as well as Samhain. She won RT Reviewer’s Choice 2012 Desire of the Year for
A Man of Privilege
.
When she’s not helping out at her son’s school or walking her rescue dogs, Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians, all of which is surprisingly well-tolerated by her wonderful husband.
Other Books by Sarah M. Anderson
Men of the White Sandy
Lawyers in Love
The Boltons
Rich, Rugged Ranchers
The Texas Cattleman’s Club
Rodeo Dreamers
The Beaumont Heirs
Billionaires and Babies
Acknowledgements
I could not have written this book without the generous help of the following people: Kurt Riggs, for making sure my Navy terms were shipshape, Amy Short for reading Clarence first, Melissa Jolly for being continually awesome, and Heidi Moore and Jill Marsal. Deepest thanks go to Mary Dieterich for editing and Leah Hanlin for designing the book.
Mystic Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy #1)
©
2013, 2014 by Sarah M. Anderson
From Samhain Publishing
The White Sandy Reservation needs a doctor, and Madeline Mitchell needs to do a little good in the world. It seems like a perfect fit, until she meets the medicine man, Rebel Runs Fast. As far as Madeline can tell, Rebel's sole mission is to convince her patients that modern medicine can't help them.
And the fact that he makes her heart race every time he looks at her only irritates her more.
Rebel swore off the white man's world—and women—years ago. But he's never met a woman like Dr. Mitchell. She doesn't speak the language, understand the customs, or believe he's anything more than a charlatan—but she stays, determined to help his people. He tries to convince himself that his tribe doesn't need her, but when patients start getting sick with strange symptoms, he realizes that he needs her more than ever.
Excerpt from
Mystic Cowboy
And suddenly, it got a whole lot less boring. Tara gasped in shock as the fan was kicked out of the door.
Now what?
Madeline spun around in her pitiful supply closet.
Two men stood in front of Tara. Well, one man stood. He was tall and straight, all the more so compared to the broken people she’d looked at all day. His jet-black hair hung long and loose under a straw cowboy hat, all the way down to his denim-clad butt. Even though he was supporting the other man, he was moving from one black cowboy boot to the other, his hips shifting in a subtle-but-sexy motion. He was wearing a T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, revealing a set of honest biceps that looked like carved caramel—the best kind of delicious.
“
Find a nice cowboy
.” Mellie’s voice floated back up her from their last conversation. “
Ride him a little. Have fun!
”
Now, Madeline wasn’t exactly a thrill-seeking adrenaline junkie. On more than one occasion, she’d been accused of being the party pooper, the stick in the mud, a real-bring-me-downer in the room. Several times, it had been pointed out that she wouldn’t know fun if it walked up and bit her in the ass. And that was just what Mellie said to her face. God only knew what everyone else said behind her back.
But there he was, standing in her waiting room. Fun in cowboy boots. No biting in the ass required, because she knew him immediately, and all she wanted to do was find a horse and ride. With him. The heat started at her neck and flashed southward. She could feel her curls trying to break free into a full-fledged frizz with the sudden temperature change, which only made things that much worse.