by Emily Woods
Jackson smiled at the crowd. He beckoned for Julia’s hand and pulled her up onto the table where he had been standing. She begrudgingly joined him, and he kissed her cheeks as the crowd whooped.
“This little lady saved us, and she brought the nastiest criminal on the East Coast to justice! How about them apples? I reckon none of you folks thought Jackson Creek would marry such a woman! She is a Southern Belle and a brave soldier, folks!”
Julia buried her face in her hands. She was embarrassed by the attention, and after shooting her husband a stern look, she carefully climbed down from the table and rejoined the crowd.
“Julia?”
Julia turned to see Evana, Jed and Anna’s daughter.
“Baby Addilyn is crying. I tried to calm her down, but Gracie thought we should fetch you from the party,” Evana explained.
Julia smiled, relieved at the excuse to step away.
“Thank you, dear,” she said to Evana, gliding out of the parlor and up the stairs.
Addilyn was howling in the guest bedroom, but as soon as Julia entered the room, the baby stopped crying.
“Mama’s here,” Julia said soothingly to her infant daughter, wrapping the child up in her arms and swaying her from side to side. “I’m here, baby girl.”
Baby Addilyn peered up at her mother. The baby had Julia’s serious, dark brown eyes and dark hair, but the rest of her face was her father’s. Addilyn had Jackson’s deep dimples etched into both of her round, chubby cheeks, and her lips were round and full. Julia imagined that her baby daughter would share her husband’s dazzling smile once she was older, and her heart warmed as she pictured her child growing up.
“There you are,” Julia crooned. “What a good baby girl!”
Addilyn quickly drifted into slumber, and Julia tucked her into the small wooden crib Anna had set up in the corner of the guest bedroom. Addilyn was such a good baby. Julia had been terrified that the stressful ordeal with Mark would mar her pregnancy, but she had given birth to a healthy, happy baby girl six months after Mark was officially taken into custody by the Pinecone authorities.
“You were with your mama in her bravest moment,” Julia had thought as she studied her sleeping baby. “Surely the Lord has made you brave, too.”
Julia tiptoed out of the room and walked down the corridor to the landing overlooking the parlor. The Pinecone Inn looked marvelous. Anna had decorated every inch of the inn with garland, tinsel, and Christmas ornaments, and five large Christmas trees stood proudly in the parlor, each with a different theme. Hundreds of candles gave the inn a soft, warm glow, and a fire crackled in the large fireplace.
Julia stood in the shadows of the second-floor landing, watching the party and feeling herself swell with gratitude.
“Things could have been so very different,” Julia thought as she looked down at the room filled with the people of Pinecone. “I could have been married off to the richest fellow. I could have had a life of luxury. Instead, I have a life of love and faith. Aren’t I the luckiest?”
Julia glanced around the party in search of her husband. She spotted his head, and she blushed as she thought of his tender, gentle touch, and the time they would spend together after the party. She had been annoyed with his storytelling, but Julia knew Jackson was simply too proud of his wife to contain his enthusiasm. Now, watching him grin and joke with his family and friends at the party, Julia felt her heart pound as she imagined the hours they would share later.
“There she is!”
Julia heard Jackson’s voice booming, and she looked down to find him pointing at her.
“There is my beautiful wife! Julia, dear! I reckon it’s time for the star of the party, the belle of our ball, to join us again! Come on, Julia! I’m about to tell everyone the part in the story where Mark started crying like a little baby when the sheriff locked him in the county jail!”
Julia giggled in spite of herself. She remembered the look on Mark’s face when he had been taken away to the jail, and she had never felt happier than when she had been reunited with her husband after the difficult ordeal.
“You saved us,” Jackson had whispered to Julia as she tended to him, the doctor at his side as well. “You saved us, Julia!”
“Shhhhhh,” Julia murmured. “Shhhhhh. I’m here, Jackson.”
“You saved us,” Jackson said quietly as he drifted into slumber.
Julia had leaned in and kissed her husband’s forehead.
“I am here, Jackson. I am happy to be here, and I will always be here. Thank you, God, for sparing my husband, for sparing the boys, and for bringing me to Pinecone.”
With the last ounces of his consciousness, Jackson touched his wife’s face.
“Thank you, Lord,” Jackson whispered.
Epilogue
“You’re lucky your wife isn’t here yet,” Anna said to Jackson. Anna, Jackson, and Jed were sitting on the front porch of the Pinecone Inn, rocking back and forth in the wooden rocking chairs Jed had built the previous summer.
“Anna, you ain’t too kind to me!” Jackson said, his eyes dancing with mischief as Anna chastised him.
Anna sighed.
“You are too much, Jackson. That sweet wife of yours isn’t going to stay around here forever if you keep on being loud with your jokes and stories! If you tell the story of her saving you one more time, I swear, she is going to pack up the boys, little Addilyn, and baby Jeanne and leave!”
Jackson grinned at the mention of his newest baby. Jeanne was only a month old, and Jackson was happier than he had ever been in his entire life.
“If she ain’t too happy with me, then why does she keep agreeing to make the miracle of life with me?” Jackson teased. “She keeps having my babies, so I think she don’t think I’m all bad!”
Anna scoffed.
“She’s too sweet for you, Jackson Creek. You are too lucky to have that girl.”
Jackson nodded earnestly.
“Anna,” he said. “For once in your life, I reckon you ain’t wrong. I am real, real lucky to have that girl, and God knows that I ain’t never been happier. He has blessed me, and he has blessed our marriage, and He has brought Julia to Pinecone and given us this family together. Ain’t I just the luckiest?”
Love for Another
A Family to Love, Book 5
Prologue
“Look! Look, Charles, that’s him! I see him!”
John crossed his arms across his chest as his mother called to his father as they waited on the platform of the Pinecone Train Station. The three had been waiting for nearly an hour, and Billy’s train was late. John noted that the enthusiasm of his parents had not dampened as the minutes ticked by, and his mother was practically giddy with excitement. Her pale cheeks were flushed, and her eyes danced with joy.
John sighed. At thirteen, John was old enough to understand that Betha, his mother, had never looked at him with such love and devotion. While John knew that Betha loved him, he knew that he would always be living in the shadow of Billy, his handsome, brilliant, charming older brother.
“John! Dear, can’t you just try a little harder on your work?” Betha would plead with John as he struggled through his schoolwork each evening. “Billy always spent at least two hours on his schoolwork! If he hadn’t worked so hard, he would never had earned his scholarship to his school in San Francisco! Don’t you want to do amazing things like your brother someday, John?”
John would shake his head and clench his fists in frustration. He was always being compared to Billy. Even Charles, his father, would make comments about Billy’s greatness.
“Billy could carry three whole stacks of wood by the time he was ten. You ain’t got the strength, son, so just don’t hurt yourself!” Charles would say to John as John tried to help his father on the ranch.
John had been secretly delighted when Billy was sent away to school. Billy had earned a scholarship at a prestigious boarding school in San Francisco, and John hoped that his marvelous older brother would finally be forgotten so
he would receive the love and praise of his parents. John had been sorely mistaken. Without Billy around, his mother was forlorn and mopey, and it seemed that all she did was talk about her oldest child.
Suddenly, John saw his older brother step down from the steps of the train. Billy was tall and handsome, and the golden, angelic curls he’d had as a child had darkened to the color of amber. As Billy walked past the young ladies in the train station, John could see them blushing and giggling, and John rolled his eyes.
“They don’t even notice what’s wrong with him,” John thought as a pretty blonde girl made eyes at his older brother. “It’s not fair. Everyone loves Billy more than they love me!”
“Billy!” John heard his mother squeal. He watched as she gathered her skirts and ran toward Billy with her arms wide open. John leaned against a wooden pole in the station and looked up at his father.
“Pa, why does Billy get to go to the fancy school? Why don’t I get to go away to school?” John asked, his nose wrinkled in annoyance. John’s father glanced down at him, his eyes bright with excitement.
“Johnny boy,” John’s father replied. “Billy’s school helps teach him things that we cannot! The schools here ain’t got what he needs. You know that. Now, put on a happy face! Your ma is real excited to see Billy, so let’s have a real nice time during this Christmas visit!”
“Yes, Pa,” John said obediently, knowing that his mother and father were only truly at peace when Billy was home. They had been somber and withdrawn every day since Billy had first left for San Francisco, and John knew the reunion with their eldest was important to them.
John’s mother embraced Billy, and John could see the enormous grin on Billy’s face. It was no secret that Billy was their mother’s favorite. He wasn’t even Betha’s biological son, but Betha loved him with all of her heart. Billy’s real mother had died when he was young, and when Betha arrived in Pinecone from her home in Boston to marry Charles, she became smitten with Billy and Charles. Betha had been born in Ireland, but now, as she greeted her oldest son in the Pinecone Train Station, she sounded more like a westerner than ever.
“Y’all! Look who it is! Billy!” Betha exclaimed in delight. “John! Charles! Y’all get over here and say hello to my boy! Look who is home!” Charles placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder and walked with him to where his wife and oldest son were embracing. John groaned.
“Pa! John!” Billy shouted gleefully as he hugged his father and younger brother. “I missed you! It’s so good to see you!”
“You can’t see anything,” John muttered under his breath.
“What did you say, John?” Billy asked good-naturedly.
John shook his head. “I ain’t said nothing. Welcome home.”
Betha guided John next to Billy and looked at her two sons. Her face was glowing with happiness, and her eyes brimmed with tears.
“I am happiest when my family is together, and here we are!” Betha exclaimed. “I am the luckiest mother in all of California, and the United States, and Ireland!” Betha said, the faintest trace of her Irish accent still detectable after so many years in America.
John watched as his father beamed at his mother. Charles and Betha still carried on like newlyweds, and John felt his stomach sink. Why couldn’t his presence ever warrant this sort of joyful response from his parents?
“I am the lucky one!” Charles said as he gathered his wife and sons into a hug in the middle of the crowded station.
“The Lord has blessed this family,” Betha said as more tears formed in her eyes.
Charles kissed Betha’s forehead, and then, he kissed his two sons on the tops of their heads. Billy smiled, but John surreptitiously wiped the kiss from his forehead as soon as his father’s back was turned.
“We are all together again for Christmas, praise God! Let us celebrate! It is going to be a real happy holiday!” Charles said as he squeezed his family.
“Praise God,” Betha said in agreement.
With smiles on their faces, Charles and Betha guided their sons out of the train station and back to their little cabin home. John shivered as the cold air hit him. It was the coldest winter he could remember, and he was eager to climb into the cozy loft in the top of the cabin where he slept each night and be free of his family. Billy would be sleeping next to him, of course, but John brushed the thought off as he imagined spending time alone after a whole day with his parents.
“Billy? Oh, sweetheart! I think you forgot your cane!” Betha said in concern as they assembled outside of the station. “I led you out of the station too quickly! John, run back inside and fetch Billy’s cane. It was the nice one we had made for him, and we wouldn’t want it to vanish! We paid a lot of money for that cane. It must make you look so dapper at that nice school of yours, right, Billy?”
Billy nodded.
“Yes, Ma,” he replied, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “It is very nice. John, would you mind? I think I left it propped against a wall when ma first ran up to me!”
“Well, don’t just stand there! Go on, John!” Betha said, her voice growing serious.
“Yes, ma’am,” John said as he turned on his heel and marched back into the station.
John was constantly helping his older brother. While Billy was older, he was blind, and John felt as though he was always being ordered to assist Billy. As they grew up, John had to help Billy walk to school, keep track of his toys, and make sure Billy didn’t accidentally hurt himself in the house. John had more chores than Billy, and he knew his parents spent more money and time on their oldest son. Billy’s private school in San Francisco, his schoolbooks, and fancy cane, and the dark glasses he wore over his ruined eyes had cost more than John could comprehend. John felt the familiar stab of resentment tug at his heart as he trudged back into train station to retrieve his brother’s cane.
“Here I am again,” John thought. “Back to being Billy’s servant.”
John found the cane lying on the ground. It was a fine piece of custom woodwork; the handle was soft for Billy’s fingers to easily grasp, and intricate designs lined the body. Betha and Charles had surprised Billy with the cane on the eve of his departure to school.
“It’s too grand!” Billy had said in awe as he ran his fingers up and down the cane. His parents grinned.
“You need something real nice for a fancy school, boy,” Charles said, lovingly patting his son’s shoulder. “We want you to fit in real good, and your ma thought that a real pretty cane would be the best thing!”
John had watched as his mother’s eyes filled with tears. Betha had orchestrated Billy’s admission to the private school for the blind in San Francisco, and John knew she would be the saddest to see Billy leave the family home. Billy rose from his seat at the kitchen table and felt his way to his mother. He reached for her hands, and John could see Billy was crying as well.
“Y’all are so good to me. The Lord has blessed me with good, wonderful, loving parents, and a good brother!” Billy had murmured as he squeezed his mother’s hands. Billy reached out a hand, and John knew his brother was beckoning for him.
“I will miss you most of all, John,” Billy said, taking his younger brother into his arms. John had at first been stiff in his brother’s embrace, but eventually, he leaned his head against Billy’s shoulder. John loved his older brother. Billy was gentle and sweet, and John admired Billy’s love of the Lord and his optimistic nature. John just could not let go of his anger and resentment toward his brother. He prayed at night that he would be able to move forward once Billy left, and he tried to help his blind brother with a servant’s heart, but as a young teenager, John struggled to accept his brother and his brother’s many needs. John was jealous of the attention his brother received and Billy’s good looks, and John did not know if he would ever be a better younger brother.
“I love you, John,” Billy had whispered to his brother on the eve of Billy’s departure. “You are a good boy. You always take care of things, and I know you w
ill always take care of things when I ain’t able.”
1
Irina Boladeras tucked her long, dark hair behind her ears and sighed as she soothed Queralt, her screaming daughter. At twenty years old, Irina was a great beauty. The daughter of Catalan immigrants, she was known around the neighborhood for her waist-length black hair, her sultry dark eyes, and the womanly curves of her body that had practically arrived overnight upon her sixteenth birthday. Irina was beautiful and smart. She spoke fluent Catalan and Spanish, and her impeccable English was immensely charming and only offered the faintest trace of an accent.
“Shhhh, nena,” Irina whispered to Queralt, who had been wailing for nearly an hour. “Mama is here.”
Queralt’s little face was red as she cried, and she waved her little fists in the air.
“Queralt! Mama is here. Enough of this crying. Mama cannot take much more of this,” Irina murmured.
Irina was exhausted. Dark circles lay heavily under her eyes, and her face was pale from the stresses of the last four months. It seemed like she had been caring for Queralt alone forever, but in reality, it had only been a few months since Irina’s entire life and future had changed. Irina shifted the baby from her left side to her right, grateful for the roundness of her hips that helped her effortlessly maneuver her child.
“Queralt! If you keep crying, we will be asked to leave this station. They will send us back to New York City, and maybe even back to Catalunya! Hush, now!”
Irina leaned against the hard wooden bench in the train station and closed her eyes. She thought of her father and husband, now both deceased, and her heart ached for the comfort of their presence. Irina recounted receiving the news of their death—both men had been visiting Catalunya, a small region in northeastern Spain, and the ship carrying them back to Irina and Queralt hand sunk only a few miles from the harbor in New York. The story had made all of the newspapers, and Irina clung to the papers and wept as she realized she was alone in the world with her baby girl.