She laughed, caught up in his enthusiasm. “It really is unorthodox.”

“Orthodox is for normal people,” he chided. He leaned over and kissed her hungrily. “You and a baby. I’ve hit the jackpot and we aren’t even on the way to Vegas.”

“Will I be enough for you?” she worried. “I mean, that starlet was so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful, you sweet little idiot,” he chided. “Beautiful inside and out. I’ve never known anyone like you.” He leaned back in his seat. “You’ll have all the time you want to knit and read romance novels,” he teased. “We’ll find a good manager to take care of your place in Wyoming. We can spend summers there, if you like.”

Knitting and reading romance novels. She grimaced, because she had yet to tell him what she really did for a living. She had to be honest with him. She opened her mouth, but Nick came aboard with another man, probably the copilot, and still a third man. She smiled and nodded politely as Cort introduced her to them.

“Marlowe—” he indicated the man with the pilot “—and that’s Bib. He’s our flight attendant. Want something cold and fizzy to drink?” he added.

“After we take off,” she said.

He took her hand in his. “No worries. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She really hoped so. She’d have to wait until they had a quiet moment to tell Cort about her profession. She could do that when they went back to Catelow, because she’d have to have her computer and her flash drive. She used the flash drive to back up her files, just in case the computer ever failed.

THEY WERE MARRIED in a small wedding chapel, with Mina in her denim skirt and checked blouse, and Cort in his own cowboy regalia. He slid the wedding ring on her finger and kissed her when the official pronounced them married. Tears slid down her cheeks. She hadn’t really believed that Cort was serious about marrying her, until she saw the rings. He was grinning from ear to ear, hardly the look of a reluctant bridegroom. It gave her hope for the future.

They got back into the stretch limo he’d hired and settled her beside him.

“What would you like to do?” he asked, smiling.

“This will sound stark.”

“Try me.”

She drew in a breath. “I’d like to go home,” she laughed.

His eyes twinkled at her. “Puritan,” he accused softly, but with affection. “No curiosity about the steamy side of life?”

She shook her head. “It’s all very pretty,” she said, studying the city lights and marquees as they passed them. “But I think a little Black Baldy calf is the prettiest thing on earth.”

He drew her close and kissed her slowly. “So do I. Except in my case, it would be a purebred Santa Gertrudis calf.”

“Semantics,” she teased.

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Home it is. We’ll pack you and then head south to Latigo.”

Her breath caught. “I can’t wait!”