Isn’t it beautimous?! I don’t have a blurb written yet, but if you like my Lone Star Lovers stories, you’re gonna love this one! Forgive any typos, this snippet is unedited.
“It’s time you boys found yerselves a wife.” Sam Logan made his pronouncement then waited, watching the four younger men seated at the table from the corners of his eyes. He didn’t have to wait long for his words to sink in. They exploded in the room with the force of a silent grenade.
Johnny’s jaw closed with a snap, and he laid his spoon down on the scarred, oak table. His black, winged brows drew together, nearly meeting over his dark eyes as he raised his head.
Sam suppressed a smile. That look could make the toughest hombre gulp, but Sam wasn’t the least bit concerned. Johnny tended to look mean when things changed. His oldest boy hated any kind of change.
If any other man had said what he had, Johnny would have cussed under his breath and aimed a piercing, silencing glare. However, he respected Sam, trusted him as much as he could anyone. That trust and respect were the only things that kept his butt on the bench beside his brother Killian.
For his part, Killian’s eyes narrowed. The corners of his lips twitched. Likely, he was amused by Johnny’s reaction and didn’t want to let him off the hook too quickly, but was already lining up all the reasons why Sam’s idea was ludicrous. He was quick that way.
Sam calmly ladled the hearty stew he’d made into his mouth and let his gaze roam to the twins. Jason was coughing into his napkin while Mace gave him “helpful” taps between his shoulder blades.
Mace caught his stare and grinned. “A wife, did you say?”
Sam grunted, ignoring the one word that had caught his son’s attention. “This is the third time this week we’ve had stew,” he murmured. Not to change the subject, but to point a out a glaring fact.
“I like stew just fine,” Johnny muttered.
“This house misses a woman’s touch.” There, he’d said it. Sat the big gorilla in the room right at the dinner table. Impossible to ignore.
“Gracie can’t be replaced,” Killian said softly.
The permanent ache next to his heart echoed that truth. Sam nodded. “She’s gone. Three years. I miss her every day. Know you do too. But life goes on. You’re men now. You have an obligation. Ranchin’s a family business. Y’all need families.”
Johnny cleared his throat. “No disrespect intended, Sam, but you didn’t get sons the old-fashioned way.”
“Not because Gracie and I didn’t try. And in the end, we had no regrets. We both loved you all like you was our own.”
“So, you’d rather saddle us with—”
Sam aimed a quelling stare. “Think I felt like Gracie was a noose around my neck?”
“No sir, but…” Johnny’s hands fisted on the tabletop. “Hell, how’re we to find someone like her?”
Sam understood what he meant. Gracie’s passing had left a hole in all their hearts. The boys had loved her. Took to her the very first day he’d brought each of them home. Gracie had been born to be a mother, and she’d showered them all with the things they needed most—acceptance and unconditional love.
“Boys, Gracie wasn’t born a rancher’s wife. Truth is, she didn’t know a bull from a cow and damn near poisoned me with the first meals she cooked. But she learned. Find a woman willin’ to learn, one you kin love and who’ll love you back.”
“You said, ‘a wife’.” Mace wasn’t gonna let that slip of the tongue go.
Sam shook his head and gave the twins a faint glimmer of a smile. Those two could always see the humor in any predicament. “Thought I’d give you two options. I know one can’t piss without the other goin’ too. And there are damn few single women to go around these parts. ‘Nough said?” When all of them nodded, he cleared his throat. “I’ll be out of town for the next four days. Auction in Abilene. The house is yours.”
I’m going to use this space to send you somewhere else today! GWB will hit the stores in just six weeks! I have an alternate website, GirlsWhoBite.net, strictly to encourage all the wonderful authors who contributed to my first Cleis anthology to talk about their work, their story and maybe generate some buzz. Yeah, that’s the crass part. But hey, if we authors don’t push a book, how are you gonna know about it?
