ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (153 page)

              She immediately spotted him sprinting down the street, toward the rubble in front of the hotel. Thomas was running right behind him, and soon, both of the men were yanking rubble off the poor woman.

              More men followed suit and pulled the rubble off the woman.

              “We need a doctor!” someone screamed. “Get a doctor!”

              Everyone seemed to know what to do then, for they all took action accordingly. Christina was impressed and reassured by these townsfolk, though most of her attention was glued on Wyatt as he hurriedly pulled the dark-haired woman out of the wreckage. He was patting her arms, her face, and then he looked shocked. And relieved. It was a very strange occurrence to witness.

              Christina walked toward him, but she stopped when a man shoved past her and hurried toward the fallen woman. He had yelled out that he was a doctor.

              Christina watched as the doctor pushed his way past people and fell beside the hurt woman. As he went on to inspect her, Wyatt stood up and moved away. Frantically, he looked around, as did Thomas. The relief that had been on Wyatt’s face a moment ago was quickly replaced with gut-wrenching fear.

              Still shocked by everything, yet worried for her dear friend, Christina called, “Wyatt! Wyatt!” Her voice sounded wispy and feeble. She cleared her throat and shouted for Wyatt again.

              This time, his eyes immediately found hers. While she was giving him a questioning, concerned expression, his expression had crumbled upon seeing her. It was as if he was witnessing some miracle—or some nightmare. Christina honestly couldn’t tell.

              She jumped when he ran toward her. He weaved around several people, and he was moving so quickly that Christina subconsciously took a step back. Then he all but crashed into her, his arms wrapping tightly around her body as he spun them around. Christina clung to him, the air whipping against her face and dizziness taking its hold on her. Her side throbbed a little from where he had collided with her, but other than that, the feeling of him around her sent waves of ecstasy through her. If she wasn’t so confused—and if the situation hadn’t been so serious—she would have smiled, and maybe even laughed.

              When Wyatt finally went still, his arms continued to encircle her. She tried to pull away from him so that she could ask her questions properly, but he refused to let her go. He pressed his face against her hair, and she felt him inhale deeply.

              “Wyatt?” Christina said against his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and held him; he clearly needed her to do so. “Are you alright?”

              He shuddered. “I thought…I thought I lost you.”

              Her heart ached, and she rubbed circles in his back. “I’m fine. I wasn’t anywhere near that building. It’s alright.” Her gaze went over to that woman, being attend to by the doctor. She saw that other people were being led out of the damaged building. “It will be alright.”

              “I’m so sorry.”

              “What? Whatever for?” She remembered a second too late about his outburst to Thomas, and she cringed. “Oh, Wyatt, don’t worry about any of that now. If you want, we can discuss these things later, but it is fine.”

              “No, it’s not.” He backed away a little—just enough to cup her face and stare deeply into her eyes.

              Christina’s breath hitched, a warm kind of nervousness blooming within her. She didn’t know how to interpret his actions, nor the glassy texture of his bright eyes. But she loved the way his palms felt against her cheeks—warm, comforting…it made her feel adored.

              “I love Sara,” he rasped, leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against hers. “And a part of me will always love her. But I…I love you in a completely different way. Not a lesser way, just a different way. I…God, I wish I could explain it right. I wish I could do everything right by you, because you have saved me. You have given me a reason to get up in the morning—a reason to care about anything.”

              Christina blinked owlishly, almost unaware of the tears crawling down her cheeks. Wyatt wiped the tears away with his thumbs, but it just made her cry harder. Her emotions were torn in two different directions—two different thought patterns.

              “I don’t want to replace Sara,” she said, sniffling. She leaned back and shook her head. “I never want to do that.”

              He shook his head with her. “You can’t. And I don’t want you to, either.” He continued to wipe away her tears. “I love you for who you are, Christina Odell. I don’t want you because I want Sara back. I want you because I want
you
. Because I need you, because you make life worth living again, because you are sweet and strong and…” He let out a shaky breath. His face was moist now, his eyes blazing with too many emotions to count. “God, Christina, I just love you so much.”

              A watery smile spread her lips wide. Joy burst form her heart—a burning yet wonderful sensation that overwhelmed her. “I love you, too,” she managed to choke out. Her voice sounded wrecked, and she laughed self-consciously.

              Wyatt beamed, glancing over her face like it was something he adored. Then he quickly leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

              Christina couldn’t stop herself from smiling into the kiss. Despite everything that was happening around them, she had never felt happier. Selfishly, she deepened the kiss and reveled in the sensation of Wyatt moaning against her.

             
This
was home, she realized. It was not a large house, and it certainly wasn’t a cramped apartment in New York City; it was wherever Wyatt was.

Epilogue

              Christina stared down at the bouquet of white flowers in her hands. Her large white dress held a very light off-white floral pattern, matching the flowers she held in a tight grip. It was truly a lovely idea the town’s tailor had, and she smiled fondly at the memory of discussing it with him. It was such a pleasure to discover what a talented semester he was.

              Standing beside her, in his best outfit, was Thomas Jamison. He kept glancing back at the large church doors, and he hopped on his feet a bit.

              “Nervous?” she asked him jokingly, her own gaze straight ahead. Her future husband stood there, after all, at the very end of the long aisle. She smiled at Wyatt, though she wasn’t sure if he could see it from this distance.

              “A little,” Thomas said, huffing out a quiet laugh. “I’ve never held any important role before.”

              Affection softened her heart, and she playfully bumped into him. “You are doing wonderfully, do not worry.”

              “Thank you.”

              “Besides, giving me away should not be so challenging. You couldn’t possibly want to keep me.”

              “That’s true. That would be a rather burdensome task.”

              She snorted, her smile widening so much that it bit into her cheeks. “Ass.”

              “That’s not proper language for a lady, much less a bride.”

              “I felt it appropriate to make an exception in this case.”

              “Ah, understandable.”

              Before she could make another comment, the organist began to play his part. Anticipation jittered through her, and she blew out a long breath. “Here we go.” She extended her elbow out a bit, and Thomas encircled his arm around it. Then, taking one slow step at a time, they walked down the aisle.

              Christina nearly gasped as everyone stood up from their seats and turned to face her. Apparently, it hadn’t helped that she had been expecting them to do that. She nearly laughed, so anxious and excited, but she swallowed it back and returned her focus forward, on Wyatt. The closer she got to him, the easier it was to make out his face. His eyes were alight with joy, his facial muscles lax with awe. She did not deserve to have such a look directed her way, but she cherished every second of it.

              Once she was standing in front of Wyatt, Thomas had sneaked away to sit in his spot on the front pew. The pastor had said something important, Christina knew, but she couldn’t take her attention off of Wyatt. She soon tuned out the pastor, the whispers amongst the pews—she was mesmerized by Wyatt’s glazed eyes as he stared back at her.

              A little boy—Thomas’s nephew—walked in between and held up a pillow with Christina’s ring and Wyatt’s ring.

              Christina jumped, shocked by how quickly time had seemed to past. She trembled as she grabbed Wyatt’s ring with her right hand, and she continued to tremble when Wyatt grabbed her own ring. Then, as the pastor instructed them, she put Wyatt’s ring on his finger, and then he put her ring on her finger. She continued to tremble, and Wyatt squeezed her hand for a brief second before he released it and backed away.

              It was silly of her to miss him—to want to move closer to him and have him hold her—but she did. Shaking her head at herself, she blamed the strange sensation on the emotional nature of this occasion.

              “I do,” Wyatt said, his smile widening.

              She glanced at the pastor, who was more or less telling her to say the same thing.

              “I do,” she said, giggling a little as she returned her gaze to Wyatt. She felt so dazed—time was moving at inconsistent paces—too fast, too slow—the only thing that was keeping her steady on her feet was the thought of being in Wyatt’s arms soon.

              He winked at her knowingly. He never judged her for daydreaming, not even on their wedding day. God, she loved him.

              “You may now kiss the bride,” the pastor said, closing the bible in his hands.

              Wyatt stepped forward and bowed his head until his lips met hers. Their family and friends cheered loudly. And though Christina knew she should end the kiss promptly, she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing Wyatt’s collar and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. She would never get enough of this man.

              When they finally parted, he whispered, “I love you.”

              “Love you, too,” she whispered back.

              The organist played another tune, signaling them to leave. Christina hesitated for a moment, inhaling the scent of Wyatt, before she grabbed his hand. Then the two of them hurried down the aisle, their friends still cheering for them.

THE WIDOW’S CHOICE

As Anna placed the last item in her travel trunk, she could not help but take a moment to look around the empty room. All that was left in the bedroom that she had once shared with her husband Robert was the bare bed and a small dresser in the corner.  The room had once been her favorite place, full of love and laughter.  Now, it was just a sad reminder that Robert was gone and she was alone in the world again.  At the age of 23, she had been through more heartache than most people see in a lifetime.  She had grown up in an orphanage with no family to call her own.  Robert had been the only bright spot in her young life.  They had grown up together, taking care of each other and married as soon as they were legally able to do so.
 

For a few years, she knew true happiness as his wife on the little farm they worked so hard for.  Then, in one afternoon everything changed.  When Robert fell from a horse, his wounds were too severe to survive.  After his death, there was no joy left for her in the home they had shared and she did not have any way to keep the farm going.  She had been desperate and lost and suddenly, she had realized just what she needed to do.  She needed to start over and becoming a mail order bride seemed just the way to do it.
Still, as she stared around her empty home, her heart sank at the thought of leaving it all behind.  It had been the only real home she had ever had and it physically hurt her to think of leaving it.  She was near tears when she heard her neighbor pull up in his wagon.  He had taken pity on her and offered to take her and her belongings to the train station.  As he loaded her trunks, she walked around and tried to memorize every detail of what she was leaving behind so that she could carry it with her always.
The train ride was a long one, with many rainy days of endless countryside flying by her window.  When she finally arrived at the train station in Wyoming, she was relieved for the journey to reach an end.  She had accepted Liam McNeil's letter of intent primarily because he had been the furthest away from her life with Robert in West Virginia.  A ranch in Wyoming was a long way from their little farm and all of the painful memories that she was trying to leave behind her.  She left the train to see a man in his forties with sandy hair and kind eyes watching her.  He was not at all what she had imagined Liam McNeil looked like, but she did not much care.  She was not looking for love or even attraction.  She just wanted security and a fresh start.  He would do just fine.
"Ms. Palmer," the man asked as he approached her. 
"Yes.  Mr. McNeil, I assume," she answered, doing her best to look confident.  She had nothing in the way of fine cloths, but she had worked hard to mend the dress that she had chosen for the journey so that she would appear like a proper wife for a rancher. 
"No, I am afraid I am not," he said, clearly uncomfortable as he took his hat from his head and held it in his hands, realizing it was the proper thing to do.
"I am a bit confused," she said, trying to keep her fears concealed.  She was officially worried that she had been lured to Wyoming under false pretenses and it was plain to her that she had no other place to go.
"He had business at the ranch that he could not step away from.  I am his foreman, Hank Dillon," the man explained, putting her mind at ease.
"Pleasure to meeting you Mr. Dillon," she said, taking an immediate liking to him as he reached out a warm hand to shake hers.
"You can just call me Hank," he said with a warm smile that made her feel like things might just be alright after all. "If you will just point out which trunks are yours, I will get them loaded up and we will get you out to Vista Roja," he added as he began to walk towards the baggage that was being unloaded.
"Thank you," she sighed, relaxing for the first time in days.
"Don't fret.  You'll like it there.  It's the best place I've ever worked. The land is beautiful and wild and Liam is a good man," he said knowingly as he lifted a trunk and began to load it on his wagon.
As they road toward the ranch, Hank told her all about the land they were crossing.  It was beautiful and she knew that she could be happy in such a place.  When they finally arrived and Vista Roja, she was even more impressed.  The ranch was sprawling, with cattle and horses everywhere.  Hank pointed out to her the bunk houses where the ranch hands lived and the river that bordered the property.  He even drove her by the impressive coral that had just been finished.  All she really wants to see, though, was he man that would be her husband.
Soon though, they arrived at the main house.  She was surprised at how large it was and how fine the details were.  It was a lovely home and much finer than she had expected.  Why would a man with so much land and such a fine house need to choose a bride through a mail order service.  It was not until they entered the front door that she realized the entirety of the situation.  Though the exterior of the home was lovely, the inside was right and unfinished and clearly in need on a woman's touch.  To build such a fine home and then not care for it seemed so odd.  It made her even more curious about the man who called the place home. 

Chapter 2

Hank led her through the main room to a library that was like nothing she had ever seen.  While the rest of the inside of the home was in disarray, the library was immaculate.  He shelves were lined with leather bound books.  She was so distracted by the amazing room she found herself in that it took her a moment to notice the man sitting at the desk, pouring over ledgers.  She had never in her life been in a room so elegant.  He did not look up when she entered the room. In fact, Hank had to clear his throat to her his employer's attention.
Once Liam McNeil looked up, he was shocked to see the lovely woman before him.  He had expected the widow he had chosen from the local mail order agency's book to be older and more worn by the life she had led as a farmer's wife in West Virginia.  There was a sadness to her that he could not deny, but there was something pure and bittersweet about her presence in his library.  Her dark brown hair was swept up atop her head but no amount of pins could hide the natural curl of it.  Her skin was darker than most ladies allowed their complexion to get because of her time working outside, but her dark complexion made her bright blue eyes all the more lovely.  She wore a plane brown dress, smart and sensible.  She was not what he had expected at all and it unsettled him.
Anna was also quite surprised at the man before her.  He was young and strong.  He was also very attractive.  His dark black hair and green eyes were not at all like Robert's blond hair and pale features so it shocked her to find him so appealing.  His hair was mussed and his sleeves were rolled up.  He had clearly been in the middle of work and he the stern expression on his face made her think that he did not appreciate the interruption.

“Ms. Palmer,” he said as he rose from the desk and crossed the room to shake her hand.

“Mr. McNeil,” she said, suddenly feeling very unsure of exactly how one should act around a man who you had never met before but would soon be your husband.

“I trust Hank gave you the lay of the land as you drove in together,” he said stiffly as he looked her over with no effort to hide is appraisal.

“Yes, he was a fine guide,” she said with an awkward nod.

“Then you know what Vista Roja has to offer. I'm will not beat around the bush. I have no time for or need of love in my life.  What I need to a partner who will manage the household here and who can help with minor tasks when called upon.  I will not waste funds that could improve the ranch on a maid or a cook.  When I read your advertisement, it said that you were recently widowed.  I thought perhaps that would make you agreeable to my offer.  It will be a marriage in name alone, for the sake of propriety at having you live here.  You will have your own room at the back of the house and we will not share any of the other aspects of a traditional marriage.  If his is not agreeable to you, I will have hank take you back to the train station and purchase you a ticket home,” he explained in such a matter of fact way that it put her at ease.  His frankness at least told her where she stood and she was glad to know that he did not expect her to love him or be his true wife.  He wanted only someone willing to work by his side and hard work had never scared her.

“That is ideal to me. I will keep your home in top shape and I will keep to myself otherwise,” she said, relieved at the role she would be playing at the ranch.

“I knew when you walked in here that you were a woman of sense.  Hank will take your things to your new room.  I have the preacher waiting for us in the parlor.  He will marry us now and then you can settle in.  I will not expect anything of you for the rest of the day.  That will give you time to get settled in and explore the place a bit.  Starting tomorrow, you will be responsible for making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the men and getting this place in order.  You'll also do laundry and keep the kitchen garden,” he added, walking towards the door without another glance at her.