Mary Connealy Quotes

She tugged on her sleeves again. He could tell the dress was bothering her something fierce. Well, he could understand that. He'd've been mighty uncomfortable in a dress himself, and she was probably no more used to a dress than he was.

Rafe hadn't been around women much, but since he'd gotten married to one of the little critters, he'd noticed they seemed to have to say out loud every thought in their head. Including stuff everybody already knew. It'd snowed. Today it was real nice. It was called weather. What was there to talk about?

He rubbed the 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

But a woman couldn't stop her thoughts until she had them, now could she?

I love you, Cassie Dawson. I love you and I love our little..." With a sudden start, Red remembered something vital. A tiny spurt of fear flashed in Cassie's eyes. "What is it?" Red said, chagrined, "I just realized I don't know if the baby is a boy or a girl.

To my way of thinking, no one can live in the grandest cathedral on earth, the Rocky Mountains, and not know that there's someone bigger than man in charge of the world.

A girl," Red whispered. "She'll be as beautiful and ornery as her mama.

The man was a lunatic who somehow could tap into sanity when he looked her in the eye. What did that man make her? A human straightjacket?

Smiling for the first time all day, he came in to supper, slung an arm around Sophie's waist, and gave her a loud smack on the lips. "The cattle are settled in the summer pasture. Tomorrow I start working around the place, repairing and adding here and there. The men will be able to help, too. I hope you didn't do all the man's work yourself, Sophie darlin'. You did leave something for me, didn't you?" "Clay, you're filthy." Sophie slapped at Clay's chest, but he could tell by her grin that she was pleased with his attention. "It's hard work and honest dirt, darlin'. Let me share a little with you." Clay pulled her closer, but she jumped back, grabbed a ladle off the stove, and waved it threateningly at him, failing to suppress a smile. The girls started giggling, and maybe for the first time, Clay didn't mind it at all.

It's hard to think of you as a Margaret. Maizy suits you."
"I doubt I'd answer to anything else." Maizy smiled as she adjusted the cloth.

Beautiful. "But if we get out of here and you're . . . uh . . . old and - " ugly - "sixty years old or something . . .

Death grip. Life grip was really a better way to describe it.

Good idea. I'll do it.

The decent, strong person had to do decent, strong things like love unlovable people and keep peace even when it wasn't easy.

We're married. I will protect you. I will die for you. Better than that. I will live for you.

No, Grace, it's not 'Miss Calhoun.'" Daniel had heard her say those words many times. They'd always set his teeth on edge. "It's Mrs. Reeves." Daniel added with angry triumph, "And guess what? I'm calling you Grace and the boys are calling you Ma.

Hey, if a gunslinging stranger comes along, just go right ahead and hand over Deb to him. I'd as soon my wife not leave, but he can have Trace's.

She'd learned so many ways to be modest, it had become a source of pride.

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.

Are they supposed to cry so much and giggle every second when they're not crying? They never quit finding something so funny that I thought it'd break my eardrums a few times.

Beautiful woman. Beautiful? That thought cleared his head. Uh . . . you're not fifty or sixty years old,