My Cowboy Groom Bonus Scene

Raven

“Are they going to be okay?” I can’t help looking over my shoulder through the back windshield.

Our four-year-old daughter Marianna and our seven-year-old son Kaden are waving goodbye enthusiastically.

Marshall’s brother Jonas and my friend Melody, who’ll be caring for them for the week that we’re out of town, are waving less enthusiastically. They still don’t get along because of an incident that occurred years ago. No one knows exactly what happened because they won’t talk about it.

I face the front again and lower the visor to shield my eyes from the morning sun.

“They’ll be fine.” Marshall reassures me as he pats my thigh.

“Do you think they’re going to be upset when they find out we set them up?”

Marshall chuckles. “It was Dad’s idea.”

“That’s true. I don’t know how he convinced your mom and the rest of the family to say they’re unavailable to help with our kids.” I sigh. “I just hope it works out for them.”

“Don’t worry. Let’s just focus on the reason for our trip,” Marshall says.

“The flowers,” I say.

This is a work trip and we’re headed to a wholesale flower market. Three years ago, Melody and I quit working creating content for podcasting after the flower shop in town closed down. We got a loan to buy it out and make it our own flower shop.  She and Jonas will take care of the business and the kids while we’re away.

“But in addition to being a work trip…” Marshall prompts.

“It’s our first couple’s vacation. Are you excited about that?” I ask, reaching across the seat for his hand.

“I’m always excited being with you.” His glance and his voice convey his meaning.

“Of course you are,” I tease. “That’s because I’m a…creative person.” I smirk at him. “Remember the attic?”

“Baby, it’s not fair to tease me while I’m driving.”

“I wasn’t teasing. I was reminding you.”

“Yeah. You arranged to have the kids with my folks and said you needed help cleaning out the attic. And I discovered you up there wearing nothing but your cowboy boots.”

I draw my hand from his and playfully pout, “I’m so sorry you didn’t like my surprise. I won’t do it again.”

“No, no, honey,” he says hastily. “I liked your surprise. Really liked your surprise.” He shifts in the seat. “It’s just going to be a hell of a long ride before I get you alone and we’ll suffer the entire trip.”

“We’ll?”

He gestures at his lap.

“Ah…I see.”

“Of course you see. I’m packed as always.”

“C’mon, Marshall,” I groan. “You need a better line. You say that all the time.”

“Because the truth bears repeating.” He grins, sliding his hand further up my thigh until he reaches the edge of my shorts. His finger traces a long, slow line around the hem.

I press my palm against his fingers. “Behave yourself, cowboy. I don’t want to ride with damp panties.”

“Am I turning you on?” he asks like that’s something even worth questioning.

I shoot him a look, and he laughs and withdraws his hand. “We’ve been married long enough for me to know when your boss mode kicks up a notch. Okay, I’ll be good.” His smile is slow, a sexy promise. “And later, I’ll be very good.”

“You can take a cowboy off the ranch…” I mutter.

“But you can’t stop him from riding,” he finishes the private joke we share.

Just like time always does when I’m with him, the day passes quickly. I feel like all our days pour out like the grains of sand in an hourglass.

And sometimes fear kicks in and creates moments where I catch myself wishing I could grab a hold of us and keep everything just as it is—a freeze frame of laughter and summer nights and sunsets and family and the days when I think all is well.

Because of how I was raised, I’ve struggled to understand how someone can love me with the deep emotion Marshall shows me.

I hate the moments when my heart juggles the daggers of fear but the what-ifs start gnawing at me. What if Marshall grows weary and decides that this life with me isn’t what he wants anymore? What if I lose everything?

I shake off the thoughts and focus my mind on my husband behind the wheel, his deep voice singing off-key to the country song on the radio as the truck eats away the miles until we arrive at our first stop.

“This is Bridge Falls,” Marshall explains as he parks in the nearly empty lot, and we get out. “It’s not one of the most popular hiking destinations because it’s only a short three-mile trek to the overlook.”

I grimace. “A short three-mile trek?”

He laughs. “It is short.”

“Is there a waterfall?”

He retrieves a backpack from the rear seat and slings the handle over one shoulder. “Yeah, but it’s not as grand as the one at Rushing Wind Falls. Plus, the plunge pool here doesn’t have enough depth for swimming.”

“Why’d you pick this spot?”

“I chose it because Bridge Falls is peaceful.”

“Ah. Like home.”

Marshall doesn’t like big cities or bright lights. He’s more at ease with wide open pastures.

We start the hike and forty-five minutes later because the terrain isn’t smooth, we’re only a mile up. I make a silent vow to exercise more because my leg muscles aren’t happy with the incline.

Marshall takes my hand at a spot on the trail that narrows considerably, and he walks along the outer edge. Always looking out for me. Always protective.

It takes us over two hours to reach the outlook, but the journey was worth it. “It’s gorgeous.”

I grip the safety railing and draw a deep breath of the clean air as I look down at the panoramic view. “I love being surrounded by all this nature.”

Marshall steps behind me, enclosing my body between his arms. “I’m at a beautiful place with my beautiful wife in my arms. What a perfect day.”

“It is a perfect day.”

“Hey.” He turns me in his arms. “What’s got you sounding so pensive?”

He can read me like a favorite book.

“I’ve just been feeling like this is so good—us—our lives together…and I want to bottle it and hold onto it forever because I’m afraid of losing it. Sometimes those old fears from my past leak into the present and make me afraid you’ll wake up one morning and think I’m not the woman you love anymore.” The words spill from me in a torrent, and I realize how much I’ve not been saying because I didn’t want to appear weak or like I didn’t trust him to understand.

“I figured something was going on because you’ve been quieter than usual these last few days.”

“I know we promised to always be honest with each other, but I’m just having moments of weakness and—”

He presses a finger against my lips. “It’s not weak to have doubts. It’s not weak to need reassurance. It’s human. And though I think of you as a goddess that fell to earth and this lucky cowboy found her, you are human.”

How does he always know how to say what I need to hear?

“And I want you to know that if I could only see one more thing in this world, I would want it to be your face.”

“Marshall,” I whisper against his finger, trying to blink away tears.

“And I want you to know that if I could only speak one more thing, it would be to say I love you.”

I give up and let the tears fall as I wrap my arms around his waist. He cups my head with his hand. “Lean on me, honey. Leave your fears and doubts on my shoulders. I’ll take them so you don’t have to carry them. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” I say against his shirt, and think back to how we got to this moment. I went to Vegas—an adventure that turned out to be the best gamble of my life. Because there, I found Marshall, my handsome cowboy groom.

***

If you loved Marshall and Raven’s story, you’ll enjoy reading Dallas and Ginger’s story Her Candy Cane Cowboy.