Ranch Wedding Night With His Curvy Bride

The dust of the Montana plains swirled around the little wooden chapel like a living thing, carrying the sharp scent of sagebrush and sun-baked earth. Jacob Kane stood on the warped steps in a clean but worn black coat, his broad shoulders straining the seams, hat in hand. At thirty-two, the rancher had a face carved by wind and hard work—strong jaw shadowed by stubble, eyes the color of storm clouds. His heart hammered with a mix of anticipation and raw nerves as the stagecoach finally creaked into view.

Amelia Hart stepped down with the help of the driver, and Jacob felt the air leave his lungs. She was nothing like the frail, delicate women in the catalog. At twenty-two, the widowed beauty possessed the kind of lush, ripe body that made a man’s blood run hot. Her travel-worn blue dress clung to full, heavy breasts that rose and fell with each breath, the fabric stretched tight across wide, womanly hips and a round, generous backside. A few dark curls had escaped her pinned-up hair, framing a heart-shaped face with wide hazel eyes and a mouth made for sin. She met his gaze without flinching, and something electric crackled between them.

“Mrs. Hart?” His voice came out rougher than he intended.

“Mr. Kane,” she answered, a faint tremor in her soft voice. “Or should I say… husband?”

The circuit preacher, a wiry old man in a dusty frock coat, wasted no time. He ushered them inside the dim chapel that smelled of candle wax and old pine. The vows were spoken in minutes—simple, binding words that made Amelia’s pulse thunder in her ears. Jacob’s large, calloused hand engulfed hers, and she couldn’t stop noticing how tall he was, how powerfully built. When the preacher declared them man and wife, Jacob leaned down and brushed the lightest, most chaste kiss across her lips. It still sent heat licking down her spine.

The ride to the isolated cabin was silent but charged. The sun had dipped low, painting the hills in fire and gold. By the time they arrived, the only light came from the lantern Jacob lit inside. The one-room cabin was simple—stone hearth, sturdy wooden table, a large bed piled with quilts, and the faint scent of pine and leather. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in with nothing but the knowledge that they were now legally bound, and the marriage had to be consummated.