Wyoming Strong Read online

  She hit him. “No. Pay attention.”

  “Okay.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I haven’t been honest with you. I do play video games. I haven’t recently, because there was so much going on in my life. But there’s an online game. You play it with other people. I know you play console games, but this one is played on a PC. It’s a fantasy game, sort of, called World of Warcraft.”

  His eyes were wide with shock.

  She thought he might be shocked. She lowered her eyes to his broad chest. “So there’s this guy I’ve played with for several years. We run battlegrounds and dungeons... I told him I didn’t feel right to continue in the game because I was married, and my husband might not understand. Besides that, I didn’t want to be keeping company with another man, even in a fantasy setting...”

  He was sitting stock-still. He didn’t even seem to breathe. “I just told...a woman the same thing, in the same game.” His eyes searched hers. “Is the toon you play by any chance a Blood Elf warlock?”

  Her lips fell open. She searched his eyes. “Rednacht?” she whispered unsteadily.

  “Yes.” He searched her face. “Casalese?” he whispered back.

  “Oh, gosh.” Her face flooded with color. She looked at him as if she’d never seen him before and burst into tears. “I’ve married my best friend!” she exclaimed, and hugged him as hard as she could.

  He held her close, laughing, so delighted that he could barely manage words. “I don’t believe it! Now I understand why Gabriel didn’t want me to tell you Hellie’s real name.”

  She leaned back. “What is it?”

  He chuckled. “Hellscream. I named her for the leader of the Horde. Of course I hate his guts, but I love Hellie.”

  She laughed, too. “All those years, and I never suspected...” She hesitated. “We sympathized about the people who were hurting us, and it was us hurting each other.”

  “Yes.” He traced her cheek. “You got me through some bad times.”

  “You got me through some, as well.”

  She curled up in his arms. “We can run battlegrounds together again.” She laughed.

  “And dungeons.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  THEY PLAYED ALMOST every night after that, delighted to find that they worked even better together since they knew each other’s true identities.

  But Wolf worried about her pregnancy. As autumn appeared, Gabriel phoned Sara.

  “Guess what?” he asked, and grinned.

  “What?”

  “Michelle and I are getting married!”

  “Oh, Gabriel, I’m so happy. Have you told her I’m sorry for what I said, that I didn’t mean it?”

  “I have. She understands.” He hesitated. “I haven’t told her about you and Wolf. I mean, she knows you’re married. She doesn’t know about the baby.”

  “Don’t tell her,” she said. “I’m having some problems. Nothing major, but I don’t want her to worry. I won’t tell her, either. Okay?”

  “You’ll be all right?”

  “The world’s most fearsome nanny watches every step I take, and every bite I take...”

  “Wolf Patterson?” he exclaimed.

  “Him, too. But I meant Guns Grayson,” she replied. “They hid the real salt. I can’t find it anywhere.”

  “And you won’t, sweetheart!” Wolf called from the next room.

  “That’s right,” Amelia called, too.

  “Worrywarts,” she muttered.

  “We all worry,” Gabriel said. “So you behave.”

  “If I must. Hug Michelle for me. I’m so happy for you both. I wish I could come to the wedding...”

  “You’ll be there in spirit. Jake Blair’s going to marry us.”

  “I like him,” she said, smiling.

  “So do I. We’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay. Be happy!”

  “I intend to. See you, sweetie.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you back.”

  She hung up. “Gabriel’s marrying Michelle!” she exclaimed, walking into the kitchen.

  “Well,” Wolf exclaimed. “And here I thought they weren’t speaking.”

  She grinned and kissed him. “Shows what you know. Where’s the salt?” she whispered, teasing his broad mouth with hers.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Yes, you do. Come on. Give it.”

  “This isn’t the salt you’re looking for. Substitute salt will be fine.” He waved his hand, like a Jedi knight doing a mind trick.

  She made a terrible face.

  “Substitute salt will be fine,” Amelia added, waving her own hand in front of Sara.

  She glowered at them as she sat down with a long sigh. “It will be fine,” she repeated miserably. But inside she glowed, knowing how protective they were.

  * * *

  GABRIEL AND MICHELLE phoned her not a long time later to announce that they were pregnant.

  Sara laughed joyously, but she was careful to keep the camera only on her face. It was a little puffy in the final days of her pregnancy, but at least they couldn’t see her belly. She congratulated them and made an offhand remark about being sorry she wasn’t pregnant, too.

  When she hung up, Wolf shook his head. “My God, you look like a Greyhound bus! Wish you were pregnant?”

  “Hush,” she said firmly, “or I’ll feed you liver and onions for supper!”

  He made a terrible face.

  She kissed him. “I don’t want to worry Michelle. She’s having some problems. She didn’t tell me, but Gabriel did. We’re not going to upset her.”

  “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Anything at all.”

  “Anything?” she mused.

  “Anything.”

  She leaned toward him. “Salt!”

  He laughed. “Anything but that.”

  She shook her head and went back into the living room.

  * * *

  HER BABY WAS born in mid-February, not when he was expected, in early February, on a day when snow was drifting into impossible peaks. But they made it safely to the hospital. She wasn’t even in labor long. But the result was absolutely shocking. To Wolf, at least. Sara had known for a time, but she hadn’t wanted him to worry any more than he already was.

  She laughed, exhausted but overjoyed.

  “Twins,” he exclaimed, fighting tears. “A boy and a girl. A boy and a girl!”

  “Yes, my darling. A matched set.”

  He bent and kissed her. She pulled a tissue from the box by her bed and mopped his eyes, then her own.

  “Can we hold them?” she asked the nurse.

  “The minute we have them cleaned up. You’ll need a gown, Mr. Patterson.”

  “I look good in red,” he remarked. “Something in red silk, maybe, with matching high heels?”

  Sara hit him.

  * * *

  THEY BROUGHT IN the twins. She nursed the little girl while Wolf held his son, and stared at him through a mist. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Both of them.”

  “What are we going to name them?” she asked.

  “My grandmother was called Charlotte,” he said.

  She smiled. “I like Amelia, too.”

  “For Guns?” he mused. “Yes. I like that, too.”

  “Charlotte Amelia it is. How about our son? His first name should be Wofford.”

  “One wolf in a family is enough,” he said firmly. “We should name him for your brother.”

  “Gabriel will want to name his own son after him.” She laughed. Her eyes searched his. “Do you have a middle name?”

  He nodded. “Dane.”

  “I like it. And my father’s name was Marshall.”

  “So...Dane Marshall Patterson?”

  She smiled. “Done.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. I’ll tell them, for the birth certificates.”

  * * *

  INCREDIBLY,
GABRIEL AND MICHELLE made it to Wyoming to see the babies when they came home with their parents, despite the snow still piled up everywhere.

  Michelle was huge in front. She hugged Sara and cried over the babies. She hugged Wolf, too, a little hesitantly. She didn’t know him well.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Michelle fussed. “I’d have been here like a shot to help!”

  “I had plenty of help, and I didn’t want you worried. How are you?” she added.

  Michelle smiled. “It’s not what they thought,” she said, grinning. “They did all sorts of tests before they found out that I just have an irritable bowel. They’re treating me for it. The only problem I have now is heartburn.” She sighed. “I would have told you, if you’d called us more often.”

  “I was worried. They were worried.” She indicated Wolf and Amelia. “And I was afraid that I’d let something slip.”

  “They’re so cute,” Michelle said, fascinated with them. “Can I hold one?”

  “Wolf?”

  He turned, smiling, and handed her Dane.

  Michelle was awestruck. “He’s just perfect. So is Charlotte.” She looked up at Gabriel with her heart in her eyes. “We’re going to have one of these. I still can’t get over it.”

  “Neither can I, ma belle,” he said softly. “I can’t wait!”

  “Neither can I.” She laughed, cuddling the little boy close.

  * * *

  “WELL, NO CHANCE of that marriage ending in divorce,” Wolf said when Gabriel and Michelle had gone back to Texas.

  She lifted her eyes to his. “Or ours.”

  “That goes without saying,” he said softly, searching her eyes. His narrowed.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “About what a long way we’ve come together since you backed into me, and I accused you of dropping houses on people.”

  She was making a fruit drink in the blender. She stopped the machine and stared at him. “What was that?”

  “You backed into me. With your car.” He smiled.

  “You backed out into me without looking where you were going,” she countered.

  “I did not,” he said haughtily. “I am the world’s best driver... What are you doing with that thing? Don’t you dare...I mean it!”

  Amelia, having heard the threat, followed by an amazingly loud slurpy sound, came out of the sitting room, which she was organizing, to see what the commotion was about.

  Wolf Patterson was going down the hall toward the bathroom. He stopped just in front of Amelia, with fruit pulp running from his head down his nose onto his shirt and dripping onto the wood floor of the hall. “Just for your information,” he said confidentially. “Don’t ever upset her when she’s using the blender.”

  He sighed and continued on into the bathroom. Down the hall, hysterical laughter was coming from the kitchen.

  Amelia grinned from ear to ear and went back to work.

  * * * * *

  Next month, coming from HQN, don’t miss

  THE MORCAI BATTALION: THE RECRUIT,

  Diana Palmer’s second installment

  of her thrilling space adventure!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from WYOMING BOLD by Diana Palmer.

  “Palmer is the queen of desperado quests for justice and true love.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Dangerous

  If you loved Wyoming Strong, be sure to also catch these other great epic reads from New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer:

  Wyoming Bold

  Wyoming Fierce

  Wyoming Tough

  Invincible

  Merciless

  Protector

  Courageous

  Dangerous

  These, and more great tales from the West by Diana Palmer, are available in ebook format. Order your copies today!

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  CHAPTER ONE

  IT WAS ONE of the worst blizzards in the history of the Rancho Real in Catelow, Wyoming. Dalton Kirk stared out the window and grimaced as the flakes seemed to grow in size by the minute. It was the middle of December. Usually weather like this came later.

  He pulled out his cell phone and called Darby Hanes, his foreman. “Darby, how’s it going out there?”

  “Cattle are pretty deep in it,” Darby replied, his voice breaking up with static, “but we’re holding our own with feed so far. Getting hard to reach them, though.”

  “I hope this doesn’t last long,” he said heavily.

  “Me, too, but we need the snow for the spring water supply so badly, I’m not complaining.” Darby chuckled.

  “Take care out there.”

  “Sure. Thanks, boss.”

  He hung up. He hated the storms but Darby was right about their desperate need for snow. The summer drought had made it hard on ranchers all over the West and Midwest. He just hoped they’d be able to get feed to the cattle. In an emergency, of course, federal and state agencies would help to airlift bales of hay to the animals.

  He went into the living room and turned on the History channel. Might as well occupy himself instead of worrying so much, he thought amusedly.

  * * *

  MAVIE, THE HOUSEKEEPER, frowned as she thought she heard something at the back door. She was clearing away dishes in the kitchen, nervous because the storm seemed to be getting worse.

  Curious, though, she went and peered through the white curtains and gasped when she saw a pale, oval face with wide, green eyes staring back at her.

  “Merissa?” she asked, shocked.

  She opened the door. There, in a hooded, bloodred cape, almost covered with snow, stood a neighbor. Merissa Baker lived with her mother, Clara, way back in the woods in a cottage. They were what local people called “peculiar.” Clara could talk out fire and talk off warts. She knew all sorts of herbal remedies for illness and they said she had the “second sight” as well, that she could see the future. Her daughter was rumored to have the same abilities, only magnified. She recalled that when Merissa had been in school, her classmates had shunned her and victimized her so badly that her mother pulled her out of the local high school because of her ongoing stomach problems. The school system had sent a homeschool worker with her classwork and oversaw her curriculum. She had graduated with her class, with grades that shamed most of them.

  She’d tried to work locally, but her reputation was unsettling to some of the conservative businesses, so she went home and helped her mother, earning her living with a combination of fortune-telling and online website design, at which she was quite good. She had an older computer, and a cheap internet connection at first, but as her business grew, she’d started making money. She’d managed to afford better equipment and higher internet speed. Now, she was very successful. She designed websites for at least one quite famous author and several businesses.

  “Come in out of the snow, child!” Mavie exclaimed. “You’re soaked!”

  “The car wouldn’t start,” Merissa said in her soft, delicate voice. She was almost as tall as Mavie, who was just above five feet seven inches. She had thick, short, wavy platinum hair and pale green eyes that were huge in her face. She had a rounded little chin and a pretty, naturally pink bow-shaped mouth, and tiny ears. And a smile that could have melted stone.

  “What are you doing here in a storm?”

  “I have to see Dalton Kirk,” she said solemnly. “And it’s urgent.”

  “Tank?” Mavie asked blankly, using the youngest Kirk brother’s affectionate nickname.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I ask what it’s about?” Mavie asked, confused, because she didn’t think the family had any business dea
lings with Merissa.

  Merissa smiled gently. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Oh. Well, let me go get him, then.”

  “I’ll wait here. I don’t want to drip on the carpet,” the young woman said with a laugh that sounded like silver bells.

  Mavie went into the living room. There was, fortunately, a commercial. Dalton had turned the sound off.

  “Damn things,” he muttered. “One minute of program and five minutes of commercials, do they really think people are going to sit there and watch so many at once?” he huffed. He frowned at Mavie’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “You know the Bakers, don’t you? They live in that cottage down the road, in the cottonwood thicket.”

  “Yes.”

  “Merissa is here. She says she has to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” He got up. “Bring her in here.”

  “She won’t come. She got wet walking here.”

  “She walked? In this?” He gestured at the window where huge flakes of snow were falling. “There’s almost a foot of snow on the ground already!”

  “She said her car wouldn’t start.”

  He sighed. He turned off the television and put down the remote control. He followed Mavie into the kitchen.

  His eyes took in the slender figure of his guest. She was very pretty. Her lips were a natural red. Her eyes were big and soft and green. Her face was rather pointed, and her rounded chin made her seem vulnerable. She was wearing a hooded red cloak and it, and she, were soaked.

  “Merissa, isn’t it?” he asked gently.

  She nodded. She was self-conscious around men. Afraid of them, too, really. She hoped it didn’t show. Dalton was very big, like all the Kirk boys. He had jet-black hair and dark eyes and a lean, angular face. He was wearing jeans and boots and a chambray shirt. He didn’t look like a very wealthy man at all.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  She glanced toward Mavie.

  “Oh, I’ll just go dust the living room for a bit,” Mavie said with a grin. She left them alone, pulling the door closed behind her as she went into the hall.

  “You’re in terrible danger,” Merissa said without preamble.

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry. I just blurt these things out, I don’t mean to.” She bit her lip. “I have visions. My mother does, too. The neurologist says it’s an aura from migraine, which I also have, but if that’s all, why do the visions always come true?” She sighed. “I had a vision about you. I had to tell you about it right away so you wouldn’t be hurt.”