“Yes, sir. Her safety is the most important thing.”
“Morgan, I don’t relish the idea of my daughter marrying a bounty hunter, but I do want her happiness. Do you have any idea how many men have tried to court Naomi?”
Bobby shook his head. Many, he was sure. He didn’t want to hear about her courtships.
“There have been at least ten, starting when she was merely fourteen. She wanted no part of any of them. It seems, though, that you have succeeded where they could not. You have won Naomi’s heart.”
Bobby’s heart raced and he clenched his hands into fists. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what? You love my daughter and she loves you. What else is there to understand?”
“I made a promise.”
“Yes. To my daughter.”
“No. After that. I made a promise to your God. That if Naomi lived, I’d let her go. It’s what’s best for her.”
Charles Blackburn eyed him sternly and coughed. “Even as a preacher, I don’t claim to know what God thinks, so surely you shouldn’t either. Just because God allowed Naomi to be healed doesn’t mean she’s better off without you.”
Bobby shook his head. “I know she’s better off without me. I knew it as soon as she got shot. In fact, I knew it all along. It doesn’t matter to me what God thinks or what you think.”
“What about what Naomi thinks?”
Bobby’s heart lurched.
“Like I said,” the reverend continued, “I’m a forgiving man, but if you break my daughter’s heart, you’ll have to depend on God for forgiveness. You won’t get any from me. If you’ve captured Naomi’s heart, you are what she needs. Don’t let your own fears keep you from the happiness you both deserve.” He rose, walked around from the desk, and held out his hand to Bobby. “Go to her. Take the opportunity you’ve both been given for happiness. Sometimes you only get one chance.”
Bobby stood, his body trembling. Blackburn had spoken the words he’d told himself time and again. “Where is she? At home?”
The older man smiled. “She’s right outside.”
Chapter Thirteen
When Bobby appeared at the door of the sheriff’s office, Naomi ran into his arms, ignoring the painful jolt in her shoulder. If Pa hadn’t convinced him, she’d do it herself.
“Bobby, Bobby,” she cried into his neck.
“God, I love you,” he rasped, raining kisses over her cheeks, her jaw line, her neck.
She shuddered as his lips tormented her flesh. Her heart raced. It was now safe in his keeping. Where it was meant to be.
He took her lips and ravished her in a deep soul-searing kiss. His tongue danced around hers, surging, loving, until she had to rip her mouth away to take a breath.
“Marry me,” he said into her ear, nipping her lobe. “Please.”
Naomi melted at the words. “Oh, Bobby.”
“I never meant to break my promise to you, angel.”
“I know, I know.”
His body trembled against hers, and she held him, tried to soothe him.
“It’s all right. We’ll be all right.”
“I’ll never break another promise to you. As long as I live, Naomi. I’ll take care of you. I swear it. In my wretched thirty-two years, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
She smiled against his shoulder and inhaled, savoring the spicy, salty male scent of him. He held her tight, as though he thought she might flee. Never. She’d spend the rest of her life convincing him of his worth. Of her love.