Caribou Crossing Read Free Page B

something to keep him busy.
    Wade rested his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “And now we own Bly Ranch.” He still couldn’t quite get his head around that fact. “Us and the bank,” he amended ruefully.
    â€œWe can handle the mortgage,” Miriam said, stretching up to kiss him.
    He took his time enjoying her soft lips. “You bet we can.” There was no question. Together, they could handle anything.
    They broke apart when Jessica hurried down the stairs. “I’ll be back by four. Bye!”
    They called good-bye as she headed for the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, the mudroom door slammed.
    â€œAlone in our new home.” Wade smiled down at his wife, thinking how pretty she looked in figure-hugging jeans and a tan sweater that matched her hair. “Someone mentioned the bedroom?”
    â€œThat would be me.” She took his hand and they headed up the stairs.
    His grandparents had built the house and, though his parents had modernized the kitchen and bathrooms, the place still had a rustic, comfy feel. It had always felt like home, and now that’s exactly what it was. Home for another family. His family. Yeah, it was starting to sink in and feel right. Really, this was good timing. Better to take over the ranch when he and Miriam were young, strong, and full of energy rather than when they had gray hair.
    Holding hands, they walked down the hall to the end, the big corner room. The largest window faced out on what in summer was a peaceful meadow where the ranch horses grazed and played, but now was a field of pristine snow.
    He glanced around the room. “Hey, you’ve been busy in here,” he said. Yesterday, she and her friends Connie and Frances had spread tarps over everything and painted the room sunny yellow. This morning, he and the guys had moved his parents’ furniture out and his and Miriam’s in. At that point, his wife had kicked him out.
    Now he saw that she and her girlfriends had set the room up in a completely different layout than when his parents had occupied it. There were lots of personal touches, too. On the dresser, alongside a Christmas cactus with vivid red blossoms, sat their wedding photo and the photo of them in the hospital with Jessica the day she was born. The cushion his mother-in-law had cross-stitched rested on the rocking chair where Miriam had nursed Jessie and would one day nurse their other babies. The painting they’d bought on their honeymoon—of an aspen grove in early morning light—hung on the wall facing the bed. His wife’s Dick Francis mystery novel and alarm clock were on one bedside table, his clock radio and change jar on the other.
    Yes, it was their room now, not his parents’. There was only one more thing they needed to do, to make sure of it.
    He turned to Miriam, who smiled and said, “I love you, Wade.”
    â€œI love you, too, honey.” Gazing into her beautiful face, he reflected, “You know, when we got married at nineteen, it kind of felt like we were playing at being grown up. Now it’s real. A ranch and a kid. It doesn’t get more grown up than that.”
    Her eyes sparkled and the corners of her mouth curved. “Then let’s have grown-up sex.”
    â€œTwist my arm.” Before she could do that, he reached for the hem of her sweater and hoisted it upward.
    The fabric cleared her face and she grinned. “Hey, just because you’re married to me, that doesn’t mean you get to skip the foreplay.”
    â€œNever,” he vowed. “But foreplay’s more fun when we’re both naked.”
    â€œCan’t argue with that.” She unhooked her bra before he could reach behind her to do it, and then she was naked from the waist up.
    He gazed in appreciation. She had a firm, compact, curvy body. So beautiful. In summer she always had a tan, but the past months had faded her skin back to its natural creamy shade. A