Quotes from Mary Connealy

She knitted him a thick scarf to cover his face and he teased her about liking her warming him better. She told him impertinently that she had enough to do without that troublesome chore, and he chased her around the room. Cassie laughed out loud as they played. "Your sassy mouth makes me want to kiss you." He caught her by the waist. "You know that, Cass. So you must want a kiss." "I most certainly do." She giggled as he kissed her soundly.

Sally said with wide-eyed innocence, "I think you're pretty too, Pa." Clay seemed taken aback for a moment, then he smiled down at Sally and chucked her under the chin with his gloved fist. "Well, thank you darlin'. I reckon that's about the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me.

Cassie grabbed at the heavy skillet she had hanging on a peg on the wall, and Red rushed to lift it for her. She whacked at his hands with a wooden spoon. "Don't you have any chores to do outside?" "I'm carrying this frying pan for you." Red pried her fingers off it. "Now tell me where you want it.

I can read signs, and every man here knows it. Your horse steps high and takes a long pace, and your boots leave a mark as good as a signature. There's law out here, Wade, even for a Sawyer. And if you ever touch Cassie again, you'd better hope I remember I'm a Christian man, because that's the only thing that will protect you.

Bailey was strangely warmed by his compliments. It was an odd feeling to be flattered and want to punch a man at the same time. It was so confusing to hold both feelings at once ... her skin was getting a little itchy.

It's been hard. Easier was the wrong word. There's nothing easy about freedom. You have to strive. You have to make a plan and stick to it.

She had thought his eyes were cold before. Now they turned to chips of ice. At least the ghosts had gone, replaced by cold confidence. She knew going to war had cost her terribly. Was it possible not going to war could coat a man something?

The man had the intelligence of the average fence post, the personality of a wounded warthog, and the stubbornness of a flea-bitten mule. Grace silently apologized to all the animals she'd just insulted.

Not just romantic love, but love so deep, so full of respect, so full of gratitude for saving her from loneliness. He'd protected her when no man ever had before. She didn't even fear it or regret how vulnerable it made her to love Gage. It was too powerful, too wonderful.

And they rode for home. His ice had thawed. Her fire had calmed. They'd thrived alone, but there'd been no happiness. Together they were better, stronger, wiser, more faithful. Together they'd forged their fire and ice into the warmth of true love.

ugly, jagged scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his hairline just above his ear. He was glad he had it. A lifelong reminder of that awful day thirteen years ago and this treacherous cavern. He'd grown up fast. A breeze coming down across the

care to explain, so he turned her into his arms and kissed her. When he pulled away, her eyes blinked open as if her lids were almost too heavy to hold up. "You really shouldn't kiss me like that, Rafe. I swear when you do it, I can't seem to think clearly." "Why don't you just relax and let me do the thinking for the both of us for a while?