“Yes, but—” he looked at her and suddenly all the harshness of the last year seemed to fade from his expression. He looked from Amelia to Logan and seemed to consider the idea as if for the first time. “I say, you truly wish to be married to him and live here, in America?”
“I truly do.” She leaned over and kissed her father on the cheek, whispering in his ear, “Logan makes me happy, Papa. Please say yes.”
He smiled and touched Amelia’s cheek. “You will come for visits,won’t you?”
“Of course we will,” she replied. “So long as we’re both welcomed.”
He sighed. “Then you have my blessing, although I offer it up with some misgivings.”
“Oh, thank you, Father. Thank you!” Amelia gave him an uncharacteristic public embrace before throwing herself into Logan’s arms.
Logan hugged her tightly and happily obliged her when Amelia lifted her lips for a kiss.
“Ah, I say,” the earl interrupted the passionate display, “but I don’t suppose we could find a man of the cloth in this town, what?”
Logan broke the kiss and nodded. “Parson’s waiting for us as we speak. I didn’t figure you’d much want to leave her here without seeing her properly wed.”
The earl very ceremoniously took out a pocket watch and popped open the cover. “Then I say we’d best be going about it. I have a stage to catch shortly, as you know.”
Epilogue
I thought you said May around here would signal spring,” Amelia said, rising slowly with a hand on her slightly swollen abdomen. She looked out the cabin window for the tenth time that morning and for the tenth time found nothing but snow to stare back at her.
“Hey,” Logan said, coming up from behind her, “we didn’t make such bad use of the winter.” He wrapped his arms around her and felt the baby’s hefty kick. “See, our son agrees.”
“What he agrees with,” Amelia said in her very formal English accent, “is that if his mother doesn’t get out of this cabin soon, she’s going to be stark raving mad.”
“We could read together,” Logan suggested. “We could get all cozied up under the covers for warmth, maybe throw in some heated rocks from the fireplace to keep our feet all toasty. . . .” His words trailed off as he nuzzledher neck.
“I believe we’ve read every book in the cabin, at least twice,” she said, enjoying his closeness.
“We could play a game of cards. We could get all cozied up—”
“I know. I know,” she interrupted. “Under the covers for warmth and throw in some heated rocks, but honestly Logan I’m going to throw one of those rocks through the window if we can’t do something other than sit here and count snowflakes.”
“Maybe, just maybe, if you can bear to be parted from me for a spell, I’ll ride down to Mary’s and see if she can come up here for a bit. Maybe you ladies could share quilting secrets.”
“But I want to get out! I want to walk around and see something other than four walls and frosted windows. I may be with child, but that certainly doesn’t mean I’m without feet on which to walk. Please, Logan.”
Logan sighed and laid his chin atop her head. “If you promise to dress very warmly and to wear your highest boots, and do everything I say, then I suppose I could be persuaded to—”
“Oh, Logan, truly?” Amelia whirled around, causing Logan’s head to snap back from the absence of support. “When can we go? Can we go now?
Logan laughed, rubbed his chin and gave Amelia a look that said it all. She liked the way he was looking at her. It was a look that suggested that she alone was responsible for his happiness and if they remained snowed in the cabin for another six months, he’d still smile in just exactly the same way.He touched her cheek with his calloused fingers and smiled. “Good things take time, Lady Amhurst.”
“Mrs. Reed,” she corrected. “I’m happily no longer a lady of noble standing.”
He grinned roguishly. “Oh, you’re a lady, all right. But you’re my lady now.”
She smiled and felt a surge of joy bubble up inside her. “God sure had a way of getting my attention,” she said, putting her hand over his.
“The stubborn, impatient ones are always the hardest,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to hers.
Amelia wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck and returned his kiss with great enthusiasm. She’d found the happiness that she’d never thought possible, and come September, she was going to have a baby. Logan’s baby—and she was Logan’s lady, and somehow that made the long winter seem not quite so unbearable.
About the Author
Tracie Peterson, bestselling, award-winning author of over ninety fiction titles and three non-fiction books, lives and writes in Belgrade, Montana. As a Christian, wife, mother, writer, editor and speaker (in that order), Tracie finds her slate quite full.
Voted favorite author for 1995, 1996, and 1997 by the Heartsong Presents’ readership, and awarded Affaire de Coeur’s Inspirational Romance of the Year 1994, Romantic Times 2007 Career Achievement, American Christian Fiction Writers Lifetime Achievement 2011 and other awards, Tracie enjoys the pleasure of spinning stories for readers and thanks God for the imagination He’s given. She desires that the books would Entertain, Educate, and Encourage—Tracie’s three E’s.
Tracie was the managing editor of Heartsong Presents for Barbour Publishing for over three years and helped with acquisitions prior to that. She co-founded the American Christian Fiction Writer’s organization in 2000 and continues to work with new authors, teaching at a variety of conferences, giving workshops on inspirational romance, historical research, and anything else that offers assistance to fellow writers. She often speaks at women’s retreats and church functions. Her website is www.traciepeterson.com
Dedication
To Rebecca Germany, one of my favorite editors.Your friendship means a great deal to me and Ithank God upon my every remembrance of you.
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