Shallie did the same when it was her turn. “I, Shallie Fletcher, take you, Cord Tobias Hollister, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.”

Carly, smiling and tearing up at the same time, brought them the rings, and they placed them on each other’s fingers. And finally the reverend said, “You may kiss the bride.”

Cord did exactly that, whispering, “Hey, Shallie Hollister. My wife.”

And she whispered back, “Hey, Cord Hollister. My husband.”

It was done! They were married. This was the woman he would love all the days of his life; they would not only love but support each other, share joyful times and sad ones. Perhaps share a family if that was meant to be.

Their lives had brought them to this moment, and whatever else happened, they would have each other.

Excerpt

Welcome back to Painted Pony Creek where three best friends’ strength, honor, and independence exemplify the Montana land they love... in the next book in New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller’s irresistible series!

Ever since his two closest friends married and started families of their own, rancher and military veteran J.P. McCall realizes what he’s been missing. And then single mom Sara Worth comes crashing back into his life. She’s his buddy’s sister, the woman who was always out of reach. But when a man from Sara’s past resurfaces, threatening everything she holds dear, J.P. will do whatever it takes to protect the woman who’s stealing his heart.

Read on for Chapter One of

Country Born

****

SARA’S CALL HAD COME through at 6:00 a.m. sharp, jolting J.P. McCall a little, even though he was a lifelong rancher and thus an early riser.

Sara was, after all, the sister of one of his two closest friends, Eli Garrett, the current sheriff of Wild Horse County, Montana, a man with a dangerous job, and it didn’t help that she opened with a breathless, “This is an emergency, J.P.”

“What is it?” he’d asked, hoarse with alarm. “What’s going on?”

In moments like that, his PTSD, a relic of his tour of duty in Afghanistan, always spiked.

Fortunately, such moments were relatively rare. He still had the occasional nightmare and, sometimes, a loud unexpected noise triggered a dizzying rush of adrenaline, pure fight-or-flight.

When that happened, he went off by himself and breathed his way back to the real world.

“I’ve completely forgotten how it feels to ride a horse!” she blurted anxiously.

If J.P. hadn’t thought as highly of Sara Worth as he did, he probably would have cut her off at the knees—and attractive knees they were—for scaring him half to death.