Selina & Wyatt

  Selina and Wyatt

  Colorado Matchmaker Series Book 5

  Annie Boone

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  It’s not quite the end!

  Christina and Mitchell Preview

  Also by Annie Boone

  Join Annie Boone’s Readers Group

  About Annie Boone

  Sweet River Publishing

  Copyright

  Copyright 2018, Annie Boone and Sweet River Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, without written approval by the author, except for short excerpts used in a book review.

  All characters, places, events, businesses, or references to historical facts are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any references to actual people, places, or events are purely incidental.

  http://www.AnnieBoone.com

  http://www.SweetRiverPublishing.com

  Chapter One

  Susannah, 1883

  “Remember now, don’t be shy about visiting,” Susannah called as she waved to the happy couple.

  Jeb and Rowena Harbin returned to their cart, and Jeb carefully helped his wife into her seat. It was a lovely sight, the way Jeb’s hand lingered on her back to make sure of her safety and comfort before hurrying around to his own seat, picking up the reins and preparing to leave.

  They were newlyweds, but already it seemed like they were as close as a couple who’d been together for years. She couldn’t resist smiling, watching the younger couple share an intimate glance at one another and then head off home. The sun was setting, and there had been more coyotes running around lately so they needed to be home soon. Fortunately, Jeb was well prepared for just about every situation.

  At least, she grinned, she hoped he was. Clasping her hands together, she rested them on her chin and tried to imagine it. The excitement, the joy and thrill of finding out something wonderful was about to happen. That true and abiding love was bringing another soul to the world. That in just a few months, a tiny baby would sleep peacefully in their arms. The Harbins were very fortunate.

  For over ten years, Susannah Jessup had dreamed of that magical moment. Didn’t most girls grow up with dolls? She certainly had rocked them to sleep, taught them to walk, and fed them carefully at supper time. How many times had her own mother instructed her to put the doll away at the table?

  Only a few short years ago she came to the realization there would be no swelling of her belly, no moment of wonder when she found out there was a child forming within her. No babe would be born into their family who would look like her and her husband. That dream of hers would never become a reality.

  The door creaked open, the only sign she received that he was near. Lucas walked so quietly, he could often surprise her with his touch before Susannah even knew he was nearby. While her senses were good for living so far from town, Lucas Jessup had spent years as a Texas Ranger perfecting the art of silent movement. He enjoyed testing his abilities.

  A small sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned back once she felt his presence was near enough to her. He caught her easily, moving forward and slipping his arms around her where their hands rested on her flat stomach. Her throat constricted as the Harbin couple, soon to be a family of three, disappeared around the curve of the hill.

  Lucas rested his chin on the top of her head. “Are you mad at them?”

  Her smile faded, and she knew it was a fair question. They’d gone through so much, and this didn’t make things easier. But how could she be upset at the young couple? After everything Rowena had gone through? Slowly, she shook her head and tried to imagine such a thing. “Of course not. They deserve to be happy and I truly am thrilled for them.”

  With his chest against her back, she felt him breathing against her, deep breaths out in the fresh air. It was another minute before Lucas spoke again. “Does it make you sad?”

  Her breath caught when she thought of her answer. The simple response would have been a lie, and she couldn’t lie to him. He’d know the truth, anyway. Thoughtfully she closed her eyes and tried to gather the strength to tell him, but the words were difficult to pull out.

  “I’m happy for them,” she managed finally, trying to avoid the question. “They deserve happiness, Lucas.”

  Stepping back, he tugged on her arm to and tried to wrap her in a proper hug, but Susannah deftly sidestepped with a shake of her head. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze and turned towards the house. Though he was reaching out to her, she couldn’t welcome his embrace, not like this. The pain in her heart was heavy enough that being near him would only make it worse.

  This deep sadness didn’t creep in often. She was happy. She loved her husband, and he loved her. They’d both made peace with their childlessness. They filled the void with people in need and each other.

  “We’re happy,” Lucas followed her into the house. “At least, I hope you are.” The last part was meant to be a joke, and she could hear it in his voice even as it fell flat between them.

  A bitter smile came to her face as she headed towards the kitchen. “I know, Lucas. I know.”

  Though she was hoping he would catch the message she was trying to send his way, the hint she was finished talking to him, Lucas didn’t get it. That, or he understood and simply didn’t accept it. “It’s what you wanted,” he insisted. “You wanted to play matchmaker so they could be married and have families. You wanted this to happen.”

  “I know.”

  “And you let old sadness surface when they’re doing just as you wished,” Lucas continued. “You can’t do this every time one of them gets married and starts their family. It goes against all the reasons you wanted to do this. You can’t just—”

  Trying to ignore him, she picked up a pan hoping to return to cleaning up the kitchen from their supper, but Lucas wasn’t the sort of man who could be ignored. A sudden burst of frustration hit her, but she couldn’t listen any longer.

  “I know!” She slammed a spoon so hard against the table it clattered out of her hand and skittered to the floor. The loud bang after her yell silenced them both immediately. Lucas jerked back, a hand instinctively dropping to where he usually kept his guns, and Susannah stared at the spoon on the floor.

  Her hands were hanging loosely at her side, but suddenly she realized they were shaking. Whether it was anger, anguish, or something else, Susannah wasn’t certain. All she knew was Lucas was only speaking the truth even if the truth was made of pain.

  Most of the time, she was satisfied with the direction life had taken her. It had required time and much prayer to get here, and sometimes she just wanted to forget the truth. Apparently, this was one of those times.

  Cautiously she glanced up at Lucas, uncertain of what to expect from him. It had taken him a while to come to terms with their childless existence, too. It had been a hard time for them both before they had accepted all of it. Yet somehow, she knew, her barren life was something she couldn’t get over completely.

  As much as she reminded herself she truly was blessed and fulfilled as a wife, she couldn’t stop the envy that crept into her heart. Whenever they
visited Eleanor and Matthew with their two girls, and all their friends who already had children or were preparing for them like Jeb and Rowena were, she felt empty. Yes, Susannah wanted them to be as happy as possible, for she truly believed each one of them deserved it.

  She took great joy that her emptiness had brought them together. For if she had children, she wouldn’t be a matchmaker. She wouldn’t have time to help lonely hearts find each other.

  She was beyond blessed herself to have Lucas as her husband. He’d stayed by her side after learning she’d never bear his child, something not every man would have done. She was thankful for him every single day.

  Lucas’s gaze was not of anger, as she had feared, but rather of melancholy. It was the feeling trapped within her ribs, and just looking at him reminded Susannah he still struggled with it, too. It reminded her she wasn’t alone. And that had to be enough. Gathering her breath, Susannah inhaled deeply and composed herself.

  He reached her side, carefully taking one hand and then the other in his larger ones. Though she wanted him to wrap his arms around her, Lucas waited as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “I’m fine,” she mumbled finally, sniffling. “Oh, dear, I’m sorry, Lucas. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Gritting her teeth, Susannah glanced down at her hands held firmly in his. “Really need to focus on the better things—the perfect things in our life. There are so many good things. It’s hard to do otherwise. Rowena is going to be a wonderful mother. And Jeb, he’s already so good with children. They’re always running to him after church, you know. He races them and lets them win. Who knows? Perhaps she’ll have several more after, like the Mendels. They have twelve children now, isn’t that right?”

  Lucas’s hand brushed against her shoulder lightly. “You’re rambling.”

  “I know,” she gave him a tight smile. “I’m trying to focus on the blessings, Lucas, on what we have. Not what we don’t and will never have. You’d think after all this time I’d handle it better all the time—not just some of the time. I’m sorry.”

  She had hardly finished the second apology as he wrapped her up in his arms. For a moment she resisted since he hadn’t done it right away. And part of her didn’t want to be comforted since it wasn’t a fix to the problem.

  But his warmth melted everything else away, and Susannah could feel the love emanating from her husband. Soon her own arms wound around him, and he didn’t pull away until she was smiling lightly. “Thank you.”

  He kissed her forehead. “That’s what I’m here for.” Lucas winked at her and helped her clean up the kitchen. The tightness in her chest slowly faded away as they both knew it would. Her breath came easier, and after some of her husband’s playful singing, Susannah could smile again. The man was a good singer, and he knew music always brightened her mood.

  Perhaps it was best, she decided, the last two girls had been here only two months before marrying men in Colorado Springs. Hillary and Brooke were lovely girls, ready to be married. Now Olivia was nearly due with her first child, and Rowena was expecting one as well. It might be good for her now to have some time to herself, time to focus on her home and on her husband.

  Chapter Two

  Wyatt, 1873

  “I can do it!” He stamped his foot, only realizing too late he sounded like he was six years old, not sixteen. But in a world like this, he could already be considered a man—just as he should be. Balling up his fists, he glared at the man squinting at him from his high horse.

  Clearing his throat, the young boy set his shoulders back and gathered his pride. “I can do it,” he stated more calmly. The other man had hardly twitched during their conversation, and Wyatt Thomas wondered how a man could act so calm and collected. Even after what he had seen the man do, Luis the Sixer hardly looked phased. And that’s what Wyatt wanted. “Whatever you need me to do, I know I can do it. I know how to shoot, how to throw a punch. I can even do the laundry and cook,” he added, a hint of desperation in his voice now. “I need to get out of here, and I can learn to do what you do.”

  Luis the Sixer stared at him coldly for a good minute. His handlebar mustache never budged though he could hear the man’s nose whistling as he breathed. A hand on his pommel, the other was hidden beneath his jacket. A knee jerk reaction, surely, since Wyatt had stepped out from behind the barn and caught him off guard.

  His was an old jacket, too, one made of animal hide. He didn’t know what sort of animal, but clearly a dead one. There were two bullet holes on the left shoulder, but Luis didn’t act like it had happened recently. Luis hid his face beneath a wide brimmed hat, but that part was ridiculous since it didn’t really matter who saw him. He was a bounty hunter. He went after the hunted. He was a strong man who could beat a man unconscious and shoot another at the same time if necessary. This was evident to the two men tied to Luis the Sixer’s pack horse.

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  Swallowing with a gulp, Wyatt tried to stop his hands from shaking. He wasn’t afraid, he just hated not being in control. “Wyatt Thomas. And I’m not a just a boy anymore.” He just prayed he could calm down and control his uneasiness before the anger took over.

  “It’s a hard life, Thomas. Some nights you won’t sleep, and most nights you won’t even have a proper bed. It’s a beautiful life of seeing the different towns and land, but it’s hard and it’s long and far from cozy. You think you have what it takes, boy?”

  “I do,” he held his head high. “I have it.”

  The hand came out from beneath his jacket holding nothing and he stroked the big black mustache. “Can you shoot?”

  “Real well.”

  “Oh yeah?” He felt the hardness of the gaze and Wyatt hesitated.

  “Well, some. I hit my target as long as they stand still.”

  The man snorted. “That won’t be your targets.” The hope that had been building within his chest faded, and Luis’ horse stamped his feet as though they were ready to be on their way. Without him. Gritting his teeth, he stared at the ground angrily, wishing the man would just decide already. It was humiliating.

  “Fine.” The bounty hunter had to say it again for Wyatt to understand. “Fine. Get your stuff. You got a horse?”

  Grinning, Wyatt nodded and jabbed his thumb behind him. “I do. That one.” It had been his father’s horse from ten years ago. A beautiful creature, even in his older age. While he most likely wouldn’t last more than the next few years, Wyatt had still treated him well enough to keep going and stay strong. A big black horse, nearly twenty hands high, and so persnickety that no one else could ride him.

  Luis whistled. “All righty then, boy. Let’s get going.” Wyatt knew the man was watching him as he grabbed his pack and strapped the horse up, ready to go. In his haste, he had to redo the straps twice on his stirrups before finally getting everything as tight as it needed to be. He was red in the face, scowling by the time he climbed on to the horse.

  And they started off on their journey.

  That evening, they rode for several miles before settling down in their own campsite on the edge of West Virginia. Luis got the men off his packhorse and tied the animal to a tree as Wyatt tried to get the fire going.

  He had done it before, and he knew how to do it. But the sticks he rubbed together weren’t doing what he wanted. If anything, they only splintered. Sweat dripped down his forehead and Wyatt scowled at the setup before him, angrily trying to make the flames come to life. “Come on,” he muttered. “Spark!” Giving up, he flung the branches out in front of him.

  Only for Luis to appear from the shadows and catch the one pointed at his chest. Wyatt leaped back, having thought he was still alone. “Watch it,” the older man glared at him. “You’re not the only quiet footer here. Don’t ever think you’re alone, kid. And don’t think we’re about to eat this raw.” In his other hand he held a bird he had caught, the neck already wrung. “Try it until you get it.”

  “It’s not wor
king,” Wyatt glowered. “It won’t work. I can’t get it to spark.”

  Luis scoffed, eyeing him. “It ain’t wet so nothing’s wrong with the stick.” He took a seat on the rock after flinging the stick at Wyatt. He had caught without even glancing at it, glaring still at the man before him. It was more arrogant than impressive. He talked with such ease, mocking the younger man. Mocking him for his efforts? Wyatt was trying to help, and this was the thanks he got?

  “What do you mean by that?” He gritted his teeth and stood. “Huh? You think I’m good for nothin’?”

  But the man hardly looked his way, tending to the feathers on the bird. He plucked them lazily, one by one as he bit down on his pipe. “I didn’t say that, boy. Why? Do you think you’re good for nothin’?”

  “Why you lousy—” His hands clenched. Wyatt went in for a punch, the adrenaline pushing him hard and the anger steaming from every pore in his body. After all, it was the better move to be the one to throw the first punch. It had been effective in most of his fights. A few times he’d even knocked the other man unconscious within the first few jabs.

  But Luis raised a hand and deflected it as though the young man were only a fly. Unfazed, he pulled out another feather as Wyatt nearly fell forward, catching himself just in time before trying to throw a second punch, this time with his left.

  With a sigh, Luis stood and grabbed Wyatt’s left wrist, twisting it away in one motion that immediately caused a burning sensation along the muscles from his fingers to his shoulder. Wyatt cried out, falling to his knees helplessly. “You ain’t getting nowhere with an attitude like that, boy,” Luis gritted his teeth, using a tone that instantly quieted the young man. “Especially out here with me. Men who talk like that are likely to disappear, you get what I’m sayin’?”