Debra Holland Quotes

On the road leading from his ranch to Samantha's, Wyat t drove his surrey up a small hill and caught his breath as the beauty of the large crescent moon dangling just out of reach over the crest A full moon would have been plump with luminescence, yet the pearly surface of the sickle still cast enough light to shadow his surroundings and seemed close enough that once he drove to the top of the hill, he'd be able to touch the bottom horn or at least toss a rope around it. He slackened the reins, slowing the horse, knowing that the higher he climbed, the sooner the illusion of closeness would disappear and he wanted to preserve for a moment the fantasy that the moon was within his grasp.
The stars, by contrast, were distant pricks of diamond light farther out than a man could dream. He sighed. Life as a rancher or as a rancher's wife was not moon and stars easy or romantic. What would put stars in Samantha's eyes?

Still reeling from the touch of her husband's lips on her, Trudy didn't know whether to feel relief or dread that she'd married Seth Flanagan for better or worse. But from the fireworks of excitement swirling in her middle, she figured on both.

Rides my demon horse, shoots a grizzly - my, my, proper Miss Elizabeth Hamilton, who'd ever have thought it?

As the campfire radiated warmth in the opening of the lean-to, Red Macalister crouched before the burning logs. He added more wood to the blaze, then rocked back on his boot heels, studying the flames, and decided the fire would do for the next few hours to ward off the cold winter night. He glanced up at the black sky dotted with diamonds. A clear night.

Playfully, he tapped her nose. "If men were the ones to have babies, the human population would die out within a generation.

Even through her coat, he could feel the curve of her arm, making him aware of their differences.
Man and woman.
Hard and soft.

If Livingston won her, he'd keep Elizabeth in a cage like a gilded bird and never let her blossom into the vibrant person she really was. Nick shook his head in disbelief. How could that man want to clip her wings? Elizabeth had glowed with pride at her achievement. Her blue eyes had sparkled with pleasure. Beneath the dusting of flour, her cheeks had been pink. For the first time she'd been totally relaxed with him. Despite her disheveled appearance, Nick had never seen her look happier, nor more beautiful.

Elizabeth watched as Nick, alternating between teasing and coaxing, persuaded Lizzy to drink the entire glass of lemonade. He's so good with her - with all the children. Someday, he'll make a wonderful father. That unexpected warmth crept into her cheeks again. As if Nick read her mind, his eyes met hers. Elizabeth blushed. Surely he wasn't having similar thoughts about her?

The guilt passes?"
Jonah nodded, his eyes grave. "Mostly." He took off his hat and ran a hand through his shoulder-length blond hair. "Hard to be grieving one wife and yet developing love for another." He put his hat back on. "Confusing as all get-out."
Erik let out a slow breath, relieved to be understood. "Yes."
"You can treasure the memory of one and love the reality of the other.

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I particularly want you to meet Miss Bucholtz."
The very idea made him uneasy. "Why is that,
Ma'am?" he bluntly asked.
Mrs. Morgan hesitated. "Keep this under your hat, mind you."
"Yes, Ma'am."
She let out a tired sigh. "I've brought Miss Bucholtz to replace Mr. Gabellini."
Howie pictured a dried up old spinster with the same commanding presence as Mrs. Morgan, a real battle-axe.
"Fireworks are coming. Are you sure a woman is the right, uh, person for the job?"
"Bertha Bucholz is one of the best cooks I know. I guarantee by this time next month, you men will all be sporting five extra pounds.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Nick staring at their joined hands, a stormy frown on his face. Miss Stanton tapped him on the arm, and he looked at her.

Who would have thought God would send a bad man and a sheriff just to save Prince?

Life is for the living," her late husband had said more than once. "Laugh while you can.

Red seeped into Nick's face. "Elizabeth and I were married two weeks ago, " he explained to Samantha.
Laughter crinkled the skin around Wyatt's eyes. "Nick built her a house before the wedding. I never saw one go up so fast in my life."
Nick's flush deepened. "It's not completely finished yet. Elizabeth just refused to wait any longer."
There was a touch of wonder in his tone.
Emotion welled into Samantha's throat and she swallowed. She remembered how Juan Carlos had acted those first weeks they were married. Proud, happy as not quite believing his good fortune. What a special time that had been. How she missed him.
"I wish you happiness in your marriage, Mr. Sanders," she said.
"Call me, Nick, Ma'am." The red receded from his cheeks, leaving behind a glow. "Thank you, I'll pass your good wishes to Elizabeth.

As a trumpet joined the organ in Jeremiah Clark's triumphant march, John was glad Pamela had chosen the piece over the more traditional "Bridal Chorus" from Lohengrin. Even though he had familiarity with the music because Mrs. Norton had played the piece by Wagner at every wedding he'd attended.
The music sent goosebumps down John's arms, bringing him into stark awareness of the sanctity of this ceremony, the weight of the commitment he was about to make, the new life journey he and Pamela were about to embark upon... together.
Goosebumps shivered over his skin, and his legs trembled. He didn't chide himself for the unmanly reactions, just took some deep breaths to steady himself.

Mine to protect. Mine to cherish.

Daniel!" She waved the letter. "I have news," she called in the English she always used with him.
Her son straightened up from the horse. "What, Mama?"
Eager expectancy glowed in his blue eyes, and for a moment he looked so much like his father that a familiar pain pierced her heart and tempered her excitement. From long practice, she shoved her sadness aside. "I've inherited Uncle Ezra's ranch in Montana.

He tenderly brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Would you give me a daughter with your beautiful blue eyes?" he whispered, his face near hers. "First I want a son with your green ones." Nick cupped her cheeks with his hands, leaned forward, and kissed her gently. Straightening, he smiled down at her.

This process of cutting a potential wife from the herd was proving far more difficult than he'd thought.

Louisa rested her head against his shoulder. She inhaled a happy breath and allowed herself to relax and let the connection between them seep into her body.

Before he could decide what to do, he heard a female voice call out, "Pepe? Mack?"
Pepe recognized the voice as belonging to Senora Rodriguez. No, Senora Thompson. There'd been a wedding in late summer. He hurried out to the main part of the barn to see what she wanted.
Senora Thompson stood just inside the entrance, holding the reins of her mare, Bianca, a black beauty with four white stockings and a blaze down her nose her husband had given her after their marriage.

She's better off without you." Livingston narrowed his eyes. "I see which way the land lies. If I didn't trust Miss Hamilton's superior values and morals - " Nick's fist snaked out, aiming for the banker's nose. Livingston barely had time to turn his head before Nick's knuckles connected with the man's cheek, sending him stumbling back against the wall. The seascape crashed to the ground. With shock and disbelief in his eyes, Livingston slid to the floor, cradling the rapidly forming red mark on his face. Nick shook his head in disgust. Pity he hadn't broken the man's nose.

The important thing to understand," he reached across the table to touch her hand, "is that there are things about ourselves that we can change and things about ourselves that we can't change. The key is to know the difference.

The stench of the pigpens made him take shallow breaths. Michael desperately wanted another drink to drown his sorrows…or, more aptly, his angers. He promised himself that once he found the source of the problem, he'd head to Rigsby's and let alcohol smooth the edge off his ire. Maybe with a few drinks in him, he could better handle Prudence. Nothing else I've tried has worked.
"Michael!"
At the sound of his wife's voice, he stiffened. Speak of the devil. Is there a word for female devil? He couldn't think of one. He nodded good-bye to Hong and was stepping away when---
"Michael, I want to talk to you!" Her voice rose until the timbre was almost a shriek. She ploughed pell-mell for him, her face red with anger.
Hong ducked into his tent. Out of sight, maybe, but not out of earshot.
The Guans' should stuff cotton in their ears to block out the worst of Prudence's screeches.
"I need a drink," he said, beginning to turn away.
"Oh, dear Lord. Don't tell me you're a drunkard like that Obadiah Kettering. Is that another thing you omitted to tell me about your character?"
He swung back.
She was inches away, arms flung wide.
"You omitted telling me I'd be marrying a shrew," he said. "You should have written the word at the top of your fancy stationary in big block letters." He sketched the word in the air and stated each letter. "S-H-R-E-W."
"Why…why I never!" Her mouth opened and closed as if she sought just the right words to h

She allowed herself to relax and enjoy the wave of applause breaking over them. Marta glanced at her mother, who had tears running down her face, but her smile was the happy one Marta hadn't seen in a long time. She no longer looked drawn and sad, but the pretty Mutti her Vati had adored.
A hand brushed her head. But when she turned to look, no one stood close to that side of her. But she caught a whiff of a familiar scent, cigars- and-Vati smell, and knew in her heart her father had come to listen to her sing.

For the first time, she studied Nick's face. Lowered eyelids hid his beautiful green eyes, making his long lashes stand out against his cheeks. He had the kind of fair skin that freckled and then tanned only after repeated days in the sun. His jaw rested on the violin. Without his hat, she noted his prominent cheekbones. The bump on his nose gave his face character, and she wondered how he'd broken it.

never held a book before and reverently turned the pages, looking at the incomprehensible print and wishing she could understand the meaning of the words.
Henri drifted close to peer over her arm. "What's that?"
"A book. There be stories in here.

Jacques appeared on his hands and knees, peering around the corner of the cabin. His dark eyes lit with pleasure when he saw her. The baby flashed Antonia his wide grin and scooted toward her. Only in the last two days had he gone from pushing himself across the floor to a hands-and-knees crawl.
Henri trailed so close behind Jacques that he had to walk wide-legged so he didn't step on his brother.
The baby reached her, placed his hands on her legs, and pressed himself up, grabbing at the front of her tunic. "Maa."
Antonia hugged Jacques. He'd soiled his rabbit skin diaper and smelled, but she held him close, needing to feel the baby in her arms.
He wiggled in protest.
She dropped a kiss on his forehead and reached up to her shoulder to unlace the leather ties of her tunic, pulling the flap down to free her breast. He began to suckle greedily.
Henri dropped to her other side and leaned against her.
Antonia put her arm around him. Just holding her sons brought her comfort but also increased her despair. What do I be doin' now?
Should I be takin' the boys and leave? Head for Sweetwater Springs?
Antonia shook her head. No! I won't be leavin' Jean-Claude. Cain't leave my home.
But without her husband to provide for them, she didn't know how long she'd be able to manage on her own.
Somehow, I'll be findin' a way, Antonia vowed.

able to confine myself to gardens and parks

It's not fair that our dogs don't have longer lives. When I get to heaven, I intend to scold God for that.

Sara's voice, begging to pet Star, brought him back to the moment. Nick looked away from Elizabeth, and she scrambled to her feet. "Of course, Sara," she said. "I didn't mean to be selfish. It's just that I've never fallen in love with a horse before." She shook the straw out of her skirt. "It's had quite an effect on me. I forgot you were waiting." What about me? Nick thought. Could you bring yourself to let some of that love spill over to me? He mentally shook his head at his fantasy and made an effort to sound normal.

His gaze lingered on her mouth, wide and sweet. A sudden hunger to kiss her made him draw Maggie close. He pressed his mouth against hers, softly, a gently caress, not a searing kiss, for he didn't want to frighten her away.
Her hand on his arm tightened.
Caleb ran his tongue smoothly over her lips until she opened to him, making a small sound. He wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth and deepen the kiss, to pull her against him and slide his hands over her curves, but he knew that brute of a husband had hurt her. This was only supposed to be a light flirtation, so he held back and waited for her to lead.
Maggie pulled back a few inches. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and luminous, the gold flecks sparkling in the sun. She swallowed and moistened her lips. She studied his face. Her generous mouth trembled, and then her lips turned up. "Why did you kiss me?
"Because I enjoyed your enjoyment in our drive today. I know how seldom pleasures come your way, and I was glad to give you the experience. Because I lack appreciation of my blessings..." 'Because you are mine.'
Caleb didn't want to delve deeper inside himself to find his true feelings, so he resorted to some light banter. He touched the tip of her nose with one finger. "This is the month of May. A man is supposed to steal kisses in May.

Caught the Viking looking at this. He's wife hunting." He winked at Frey before glancing down at Trudy. "Better than trying to capture one."
Frey sent Seth a mock scowl. "I left my battle axe at home.

John laughed. "Out here, any cake is a treat."
"But everyone has a favorite." Her eyes smiled at Nick. "Well?"
"Chocolate, ma'am." The words surprised him by tumbling out of his mouth.
"Chocolate, it is," she said gaily. "Good thing I brought cocoa powder with me."
John winked at Nick before turning to his wife. "You practically brought all of Boston with you.

Elizabeth glanced over at Nick, striding along with Lizzy on his shoulders. Once in the shade, the child had perked up enough to giggle as she bounced along on her moving perch. Nick caught Elizabeth's glance and winked.

Well, not to sound puffed up in my own conceit... I think we make a mighty fine couple," she teasingly echoed.
He lifted his head and stood straight, chest pushed out, making himself appear larger. "You don't think that I'm a mite on the tall side?"
She eyed him, her eyes sparkling. "A mite?

Howie brought her hand to his lips. "You stepped in front of me," he said in wonder. "I didn't need you to. I can handle Prudence Morgan."
"But you didn't." She tapped his chest. "You stayed quiet for the longest time before responding."
"Quiet is how I handle difficult people…."
"You don't handle me that way." Her voice came out sounding breathless.
Howie slipped his arms around her. "If it were up to me, this is how I'd handle you."
Butterflies danced in her stomach. Not a fearful battering of wings, but a sparkling mating flight, making her heart soar into her throat. "Why isn't it up to you?

We'll ride along the river. It's a mighty pretty sight..." Puffy white clouds floated across the azure blue sky. Pine-covered mountains crowned with snowcaps folded down into foothills that ringed the valley. Beneath the clouds the play of sun and shadow cast hazy blue-green patches on the mountainsides. A distant large-winged bird rode on air currents before diving into a clump of trees.

Mrs. Baxter gave his mother a look of disbelief. "So you are saying I should accept these gifts because doing so makes Mr. Livingston more lively?"
The image came to him of his uncle doing a jig, and Ben burst out laughing.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
Ben scrambled for something to say, for he didn't think the jig image would go over well with his uncle. Then he remembered the text from Sunday's sermon. "Well, Reverend Norton says that. 'It's more blessed to give than to receive.' So you're making sure he's blessed, Mrs. Baxter.

That strange feeling came back to Nick's stomach, although this time it traveled upward to the vicinity of his heart. His hands stroked and soothed the mare, but all his attention centered on the woman kneeling in the straw. The haughty attitude Elizabeth sometimes displayed had vanished. Happiness lit up her face, and her eyes shone with love. Look at me that way, he silently pleaded. He knew Star didn't appreciate her loving attention the same way he would.

As they reached the steps to the house, the door opened. A woman in a gray dress and white apron glared at them.
Taken aback, Delia faltered.
Mr. Livingston leaned over. "Don't mind Mrs. Graves, my housekeeper," he said in a low voice full of humor, obviously meant to reassure her. "That's her normal expression. She only smiles once a year on Christmas.

Barbara preferred to decorate the tree early instead of waiting for Christmas Eve, saying she wanted to have some time to enjoy the tree prior to the actual holiday. So three days before Christmas, she set Abe and the children to stringing popcorn, while she carefully unwrapped the glass ornaments from Germany that Robert brought down from the attic.

For a moment, Pamela watched her friend. Although she was one of several hostesses who were greeting the guests, Elizabeth drew all eyes with her blonde beauty, sparkling blue eyes, and gracious manners. Feeling

He picked up one of her hands, turned it over, and kissed her palm again before placing it against his chest. Her heart melted in response, and her knees threatened to follow.

As if sensing his thoughts, Elizabeth looked up. Her pale face still showed signs of strain. He winked at her to see if he could bring out the dimple in the left corner of her smile. It worked. Her skin pinked up, and the dimple briefly appeared. That seldom-seen dimple really did something to his heart. The tiny indentation changed her from the proper Miss Hamilton to his Elizabeth.

Nick laughed. "We'll have a celebration, all right. It's called Christmas."
"She's a Christmas baby? On the actual day?"
"Came a month earlier than we expected. Elizabeth had organized the children into a Christmas choir and planned a big party after the service on Christmas Eve." Nick chuckled. "She was not pleased when her pains started beforehand.

Pepe absently thought, happy beyond words that he was actually holding hands with Lucia.
Passing a stall with a particularly pungent odor of manure made Pepe falter, realizing a barn wasn't the most romantic place to propose. Then he remembered the Savior born on this very night so long ago, and he figured if God could choose a stable for such an important miracle, he could too.

Lily studied the rock garden. On a long, low hill that sloped to the stream, someone had set stones into the side and planted wildflowers in the pockets of dirt above them. They made her think of opera boxes filled with ladies in colorful gowns. Tyler's mother must have loved cool tones. Lily admired the blues, purples and pinks of the different flowers...

Just let me catch my breath, Red Macalister, and think. You've tipped my teapot handle over spout.

My outlook has changed, Antonia. Last year this time, I'd bemoaned the ruined hay." He shrugged. "Now I know what real loss is. So I'm seeing things differently.

Her thoughts drifted to Tyler Dunn... to the feeling of being held in his arms. Wistfulness curled through her heart and she wished for the freedom to enjoy the attention of a man... to indulge in a lady-like flirtation... to fall in love. Although the wishes weren't new, for the first time, she had someone to weave the fantasy around. She could easily paint a romantic dream of living here with Tyler. But, Lily knew that dreaming about such a life would only make it harder to live with her reality. Yet, she couldn't help imagining him in the pool like this, naked as a newborn babe, yet all man.

Nick began playing another piece - a beautiful one she'd never heard. The feelings in his eyes changed until they held love and compassion. "This is for you," he whispered. Mesmerized, she became lost in the emerald enchantment cast over her by his gaze and the seductive music. Although not releasing her from her cares, the music soothed away the harsh edges so they didn't cut so deep into her soul, giving her the strength to continue to bear them.

Elizabeth Hamilton! What are you doing riding that horse? Nick's going to be so angry with you!" "Nick's not around," Elizabeth said tartly. "Well, you'd better not break your neck. We've enough problems as it is." "I won't.

I didn't mean to upset you, Ms. Hamilton," his gaze shifted back to her. "It's a beautiful sight and I thought you'd like to see it." She gasped in delight at the vista before her. Distant purple mountains framed lush green meadows speckled with brown dots of cattle. A silver river threaded through clumps of trees. In the middle of the valley, ranch buildings clustered around a large white house. Elizabeth inhaled crisp air into her lungs...

Trudy rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. "I declare, Seth Flanigan, the longer I know you, the more your sense of humor increases. You barely had any when we first married. Now look at how you act. Being around Frey has brought out the worse in you."
"No, I don't think it's Frey's fault." He winked at Grace. "It's what happiness does to a man." He gave Trudy a gently shove toward the doorway. "Go on with you, now. The Viking awaits his bride.

The tiny body was slippery, and he held her tightly, afraid she'd slither out of his grip. He rotated the infant face-up, holding her about ten inches away from his face. The top of her head had a slight cone shape. Her blue-tinged hands pinked. The baby's eyes were open, alert and seemingly amazed.
They connected with his.
A jolt of intense feeling, of recognition, flowed between them. As he gazed on the scrunched features of the infant, love surged through him. He'd never felt such a feeling before, and his chest ached with the joyful pressure. Caleb wanted to curl her to his chest and keep her safe. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling a scent that surprised him with its sweetness.
"My baby?" Maggie asked.
The infant broke eye contact with Caleb and turned her face toward the sound of her mother's voice. He blinked back moisture from his eyes and grinned. "You have a beautiful daughter.

Elizabeth stood where he'd left her, a forlorn figure in a sodden blue gown, still clasping the pistol with both hands. His heart swelled with pride at her courage, but he also wanted to shake her for scaring ten years off his life.

Nick took the pistol from her, turned, and tossed it onto the grass. Placing his hands on her arms, he pulled her to him, the pressure of his fingers biting into the softness of her flesh. "I don't know whether to shake you" - Nick emphasized his words with a joggle of her arms - "or kiss you." His tone sounded playful, but seriousness glimmered in his gaze.

We have plenty of natural springs in our area. The cool springs have the sweetest water you'll ever taste - hence the name of our town. And it's never too cold for a Montanan to sit in a natural hot spring, even if it means your wet hair turns into icicles."
Her hand rose to cover her mouth, and her eyes widened.
He laughed at her shocked expression.
Pamela lowered her hand.
"Hot springs outdoors? In the winter?"
"Hot springs feel down right good to soak in anytime, especially when the air's cold outside. The hot water soothes sore muscles and is good for what ails you. But I also have a river through my property. I've dammed up a spot that makes for a nice swimming hole when it's hot in the summer."
A blush rose in her cheeks, and she glanced to the side.
"Very refreshing," he teased, just to watch the pink deepen....
Pamela couldn't help the dreamy vision of bathing with him in a hot spring, touching each other as the snowflakes swirled around them. She let out a sigh. So romantic.

Here, let me help." Nick stepped behind her, reached around her body, and placed his hands over hers, steadying the rifle against her shoulder. At his touch, unusual tingling sensations coursed through her. "Look down the sights to the target," he murmured in her ear. His finger pressed over hers, guiding her movement. Her whole body warmed at his closeness. Too aware of him, she couldn't concentrate. She just closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger. The noise of the shot reverberated in her ears. The recoil of the gun sent her staggering back into Nick. His arms tightened around her. She lowered the rifle. "You missed," Nick's voice teased in her ear. Elizabeth's heart raced. She relaxed against his chest, loving the feel of his strong arms around her.

She sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a civilized bathroom."
Howie remained silent out of habit and also because he didn't know what a civilized bathroom was.

Mrs. Flanigan made this for you and dropped it off earlier. So pretty, wouldn't you agree?"...
"White roses - the bride's flower," Mrs. Norton said with a lilt in her voice. "For unity, purity, and a love stronger than death." She touched the edge of a blossom. "And, in addition, you have chrysanthemums for fidelity, optimism, joy, and long life, with the color white standing for truth and loyal love."
As if caught in a spell, Grace stared at the flowers, a lump forming in her throat, the words echoing in her mind... Joy, truth, fidelity, a love stronger than death.
Mrs. Flanigan chuckled. "Mrs. Norton, you make the bouquet sound so poetic. I'm afraid I can't take credit for such a romantic arrangement. I chose the only white flowers still blooming in my garden.

Abe picked up a shiny silver star, now a bit tarnished, the symbol of a happier time. The year after their daughter's death came the joy of a a newborn son,. Jeremy just squeaked into life the day before the holiday. The star was Abe's gift to his wife that Christmas. He smiled as he hung it on a branch.