104
" Wyatt lowered her to the floor, then paused, his hands on her waist. “McKenna?” His breath was soft on her face. “Yes?” “You can look at me, you know. I’m not going to bite.” Something about the way he said it made her smile, and she lifted her gaze. The room was cast in shadows, and she could make out only the faintest outline of his stubbled jaw. She fought the sudden urge to touch his face. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For making me your husband.” His hand moved, ever so slowly, around her back. “And for giving me the chance . . .” He nodded toward Emma’s bedroom. “To be a father to that sweet little one in there.” The anxious tickle expanding inside her, McKenna matched the softness of his voice. “And thank you for making me your wife, Wyatt. For allowing me to keep her, and to keep my promise to Janie. It was very . . . honorable of you.” She was achingly aware of the progress of his hand on her lower back as it moved upward. "
― Tamera Alexander , The Inheritance
105
" She hurried to the door, cinching her robe, smoothing her hair, and asking God to guide her conversation with the man claiming to be Vince’s brother—whoever he was. She opened the door. “Good morn—” She frowned, unable to explain the tiny spark of irritation, but even greater sparks of joy, she felt. “What are you doing here?” “Good morning, Miss Ashford. It’s nice to see you again too, ma’am.” With a wry smile, Wyatt Caradon tipped his hat and held up the ragged-looking advertisement she’d posted at the mercantile weeks ago. “I’m here in answer to your notice, ma’am. I’m hoping you can still use a ranch hand. "
― Tamera Alexander , The Inheritance
106
" She watched him cut through the barn to the well, and she felt Wyatt’s arms come around her from behind. “You were perfect, McKenna.” She leaned into him, mindful of Emma running straight for them. Chin Li nodded their way then averted his gaze. But McKenna saw the smile on his mouth. “Papa!” Wyatt caught Emma up and gave her a big hug. “How are you, little one?” Emma’s eyes sparkled. “Did you bring me anything?” “Now what makes you think I’d bring you anything?” She stuck her hand into his outer vest pocket, which earned a raised brow from Wyatt. So she immediately went for his inner pocket, and her grin widened. “Another doll!” she squealed. Wyatt tugged the red-yarned head of the rag doll. “I figured Clara needed a sister, since you’ll be getting either a new brother or sister yourself real soon.” Emma hugged his neck tight. “Thank you, Papa.” “Now,” he said, kissing her forehead and setting her down. “We’re going to have Uncle Robert’s welcome home dinner in just a minute, but first, I’d like for you to run on inside and show Chin Li and Mei your new doll while I kiss your mama good and proper. Think you can do that for me?” Grinning, Emma nodded and set off. McKenna was grinning too, until Wyatt pulled her close. Seeing the desire in his eyes sparked her own, and she slipped a hand beneath his vest to finger a button on his shirt. “I’ve missed you, Mr. Caradon.” No longer Marshal, and she was so thankful. His hand moved lower down her back, pressing her closer against him. He smiled. “I think I’ve warned you before, ma’am”—his gaze went from her eyes to her mouth—“about looking at a man that way when he can’t do anything about it.” Remembering the first day he’d said that to her, McKenna cradled the back of his neck and drew his face down to hers. “Then I suggest, sir, that you do something about it. Right quick.” And he did. "
― Tamera Alexander , The Inheritance
113
" If you choose not to marry now but want to wait, which Judge Hawkins says is an option, he’ll go ahead and submit his ruling. Then you’ll need to travel to Denver and file an appeal, appear before a judge there, and have another hearing in coming weeks.” McKenna stared, wide-eyed and wordless, while Mei stood off to the side, her head bowed, with a demure smile bunching her cheeks. Wyatt wished McKenna would smile, would cry, would do something to let him know what was going on inside of her. He reached for her other hand and held them both between his. “And in case it’s not clear to you . . .” He smiled, wanting to take her in his arms and kiss her again, maybe try and help her decision along. “I’m the one you’ll be marrying. Unless you have someone else in mind.” Lord, please let her say yes . . . With a nervous laugh, she lowered her eyes, her grip on his hand turning viselike. She glanced down the hallway, then back at him. “Would I be able to keep Emma with me? If I waited?” Wyatt tried not to take the implication of her question too personally, yet felt a slight sting. He knew she was scared to death. "
― Tamera Alexander , The Inheritance
117
" She spotted Captain Winston in the barn, hitching the mares to the wagon, and walked out to join him. When he turned around, she was taken aback. “Good morning, Mrs. Prescott.” She stared at the freshly shaven man smiling down at her, a hint of stubble shadowing the jawline that only yesterday had sported a full and unruly beard. “Captain Winston?” His smile deepened, along with the gray of his eyes, which, without the distraction of the beard, proved to be a rather disarming combination. He rubbed a hand over his jaw as though privy to her thoughts. “Yes, ma’am. At your service. Mrs. McGavock says you need to go into town.” “Y-yes, I do. Thank you, Captain, for taking me.” “My pleasure. Just give me a couple more minutes and we’ll be set.” He circled the wagon and checked the harness straps on the other side. She tried not to stare, but had to acknowledge . . . He was a handsome man with strong, angular features. And younger than she would’ve guessed upon their first meeting. He possessed a quiet confidence about him as though he had nothing left to prove. Either that, or he simply didn’t put much stock in others’ opinions. Seeing him clean shaven brought back memories of Warren’s last trip home in April. He’d been sporting a similar soldier’s beard, as she’d called it. All wild and woolly. She’d shaved it off for him that first night, cherishing the chance to look fully into the face of the man she’d married. And loved. Loved still. "
― Tamera Alexander , Christmas at Carnton (Carnton, #0.5)
