* * *
Jessica pulled her collar up and moseyed over to the stream. She listened to its endless melody as it flowed along. Clint came to her side with a small bouquet of the late blooms and handed them to her. "Blossoms for my beautiful bride."
Jessica felt a flush heat her face as she took the flowers from his hand in both of hers.
He turned her by the waist toward him. "Why the blush?"
Their eyes met. "You called me beautiful. You don't have to do that, Clint. I know I'm not beautiful."
He drew her to him as her fingers stroked the flowers between them. "Don't ever say that to me again." With a loose fist, he lifted her chin to look him straight in the eye. "I think I fell in love with you the moment you stepped foot on this ranch."
Jessica wanted to believe that, but could only scoff. "No. There was Veronica, and—" Stop it! She dipped her head as if to examine the flowers, and took a sniff. She mustn't bring up his past. That was no way to begin a marriage. But, she didn't want him to lie to her either. There was no need. She knew he loved her. That was enough.
He raised her chin again. "Jessie. You are beautiful. In more ways than I can possibly describe."
"Clint—"
"Jessie, listen." He cradled her cheek with his calloused palm. "You jumbled my brain, and woke up emotions I didn't even know I had. When you showed up here, you were sustenance. My sustenance. Sunlight to my otherwise murky world. No one—and I mean, no one—holds the flame to my soul but you. You're my everything."
He leaned in, squashing the petals between them, and caught her mouth with his. All Jessica could feel was heat and wetness and depthless love.
"You'll always be enough for me," he murmured against her lips, then took her mouth again.
He was not just good looks, this man. In that moment she vowed to herself—with God's help—that she'd never doubt his love or worry over her own insecurities again. She loved this man with a heart that belonged wholly to him, and she would not poison that love.
He released her mouth, but hovered close. "Would you like to live out here?"
"Live out here?" she echoed, in a daze of passion.
"I've taken out a loan so we can build. Right here, next to the stream you love so much."
Jessica laid her fingers on his stubbled cheek. "It's you I love so much."
The look of complete, surrendered love on his beloved face emboldened her. She reached up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, giving him all that was her, making him groan in pleasure.
When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead into hers. "I love you, wife, more than this lowly cowboy can put into words. Let's go home."
Clint stepped away then and swung onto Shadow's back. He looked down at her. All at once a long ago memory uncovered itself to her, so intense it brought along a flash flood of sensation.
The dream. On the train. This was the man. Tall, broad, rugged—magnificent. Black hat, dusty boots, dark steed . . . , and a smile that touched her soul. Even his eyes were the same shade of green. She shivered at the perfect correlation. In that dream, God had given her a clear vision of her future husband—her soul mate.
She looked up at the familiar picture this splendid man made. Then, thanking God, she smiled up at him.
With the crooked smile that never failed to make her breath catch, he reached out a hand. "Ride with me."
She looked him square in the eyes and poured every ounce of her soul into the only word that existed for her. "Always."
The End
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Website: www.janithhooper.com/
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About the Author
My adventure into writing began over six years ago, when I felt the tug from God to put pen to paper, or in today's language, fingers to keyboard. I don't know why God has blessed me with such a wondrous gift—the all-consuming, joyful need to write—but I will be forever grateful.
My writing path is as unique as my name. It started something like this:
"You want me to do what, Lord?"
The same challenge repeated in my mind. Had it come from God, truly? Was it even possible to hear God so clearly in the twenty-first century? I don't recall the exact words, but I do remember the exact impression they left in me. I suddenly understood Moses's hesitation. God wanted me to do something I hadn't been educated to do and hadn't even thought of doing before now. Write. Novels.
Now, this hadn't come from out of nowhere. It had come about through a series of specific prayers to God. Prayers like this: "Lord, now that I've finished the one thing I know you put me on this earth to do, what's next?"—The 'one thing' God had long ago requested of me was to raise our four sons as decent, godly men. And, through many long years, with lots of difficulties and equal shares of delight, the task was done. Both my husband and myself can now look upon our handsome, and very tall, sons, with pride. They are wonderful, and they love God. Done. Now what?
So you see, my newfound writing career sprouted not in my childhood, or even my adulthood, but in my seniorhood (if there were such a word). Though I must admit, the roots of my passion do reach back to a childhood filled with imagination. I remember creating a constant stream of romances in my head, with the hope that each could one day be mine. Well, I'm happy to say, I am living my own romance story. I have a wonderful husband of forty years, and along the way came the four strapping sons, two daughters-in-law, two granddaughters and one grandson. So far.
Now that our children are grown, my husband and I reside in Cowboy Capital of the World—Oakdale, California.
I adore writing and am fully committed to it. I must say, the majority of that commitment is due to the reality that God directed my steps to do it. So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy my stories as much as I have loved creating them.
God Bless, Janith (Jan) Hooper
Visit me at: www.janithhooper.com
[email protected] Acknowledgments
This is my first book, my baby. I applaud those who have stuck by me through the long process of learning the craft. It is with love and my absolute honor to thank those who have helped sculpt 'the baby' into the version you can now read. Thank you, my friends and family.
April. You were the very first person to read the original manuscript, and, God bless you, you said you enjoyed it. I was so new to this world of writing, and not at all sure it was what I was supposed to do. As an avid reader, I trusted your opinion, and you have no idea what those first positive words did for me. For sure, they were a confirmation. Thank you, my sweet daughter-in-law.
Mick. You're an amazing editor, and friend. From the moment you read my first draft to the cheerleading you do for me today, you've been the encourager God gave me. You've kept me plodding forward, learning the craft (and by no means have I finished that task), and right on to a completed first novel. Thank you, Mick, more than I can say in mere words.
Doc Holly. You took pity on me, and were the first set of fresh eyes on what I thought was the completed manuscript. You helped turn my vanilla into chocolate ripple with nuts, and for that, and your unfailing way of dishing out the truth, I thank you. Your gift of editing and critiquing, as well as your amazing ability to write, is a true inspiration to me.
Sarah. You were the first to read my book on a kindle, testing that type of read as well as the content. Thank you for raving about the book, and for reading it twice within a week, all while getting ready for Christmas! It was a godsend to know you loved it just the way it was.
Paul. My third son. You have been in this with me since the first, and I thank you for the endless hours of listening, your countless ideas, and great moral support.
Nathan. My second son. Thank you for your genius in creating my website, and for your help in the process of displaying my book to the world.
Hoop. My husband. Love of my life. In spite of the years it took to pu
blish this first book, you have always believed in me. Thank you for your spiritual leadership and your support in my writing process. It is because you are my rock that my mind and spirit are free to write. I do it for you and I do it for God. I love you.
To Matthew, my first born, and Ben my fourth, plus my other sweet daughter-in-law, Marisa, thank you for your part in offering up ideas, support, or endlessly listening about the book. I thank you and love you all.
Author's Note
Yes, the earthquake in this book was real. Below you'll see the statistics on it as documented by Wikipedia.
1959 Yellowstone earthquake
From Wikipedia
Date August 17, 1959
Magnitude 7.3-7.5
Depth Unknown
Epicenter location ~15 miles North of West Yellowstone, Montana
Countries or regions Southwestern Montana, Idaho, Wyoming
Casualties 28 plus, dead
The 1959 Yellowstone earthquake also known as the Hebgen Lake earthquake was a powerful earthquake that occurred on August 17, 1959 at 11:37 pm (MST) in southwestern Montana. The earthquake was registered at magnitude 7.3 - 7.5 on the Richter scale. The quake caused a huge landslide that caused over 28 fatalities and left $11 million (1959 USD, $74.1 million 2006 USD) in damage. The quake-induced landslide also blocked the flow of the Madison River resulting in the creation of Quake Lake. Effects of the earthquake were also felt in Idaho and Wyoming.
The 1959 quake was the strongest and deadliest earthquake to hit Montana since the 1935-36 Helena earthquakes left 4 people dead and caused the worst landslides in the history of the Northwestern United States since 1927.
Stay With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book Two)