by Kristin Holt
No. He’d prefer her memories of that little eight-by-eight building were of them snuggling on a pallet of blankets and quilts, sleeping in one another’s arms.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better.”
“Good.” He couldn’t help but smile at her, so grateful for her recovery. It looked like she’d be whole and well, and for that, he’d never been so grateful.
“Any chance you remember a conversation we had when you first awoke?”
If not, no matter. He’d simply tell her he loved her, again, as many times as it took until she remembered the momentous occasion.
“When I asked you what had happened to me and you avoided telling me I’d been shot?”
He chuckled. “Same conversation, different topic.”
“I believe I told you I’ve fallen in love with you, Richard Cannon.”
Love welled within him, all over again. The amazing emotion was welcome and genuine and brought him a depth of joy he’d never known his life had been missing.
“You’re an amazing woman, Mrs. Cannon. I love you more every day.”
“Enough to take me home?”
“As soon as you’re well enough to travel.”
“Take me home in the bed of the wagon, with Bathsheba to watch over me while you drive. That’ll bring her to where we can put her on a train to her brother in…”
She trailed off as if in thought, searching for the city name.
“Murray.”
“You know about that?”
“I do. She was a good help to me while you were unconscious.”
“She told me you rarely left my side.”
“Where else would I go?” His throat pinched, the emotion so strong he couldn’t control it. “You’re my life, my wife, my sole purpose in everything I do.”
Tears stung his eyes, burned like the dickens.
She squeezed his hand, love warming her eyes.
Oh, yeah. He’d been completely right when he’d figured reciprocated love would be a truly wondrous thing.
Two days after returning home with Lessie, he sat at her bedside, reading aloud from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
She enjoyed hearing him read. And doing so helped to pass the time as she regained her strength.
A familiar knock sounded on the front door. Obviously Bart, the courier for Deseret Telegraph.
Lessie perked up. “You come right up and tell me if it’s from Josie.”
“I will, Sweetheart.” Richard kissed her brow. “Stay lying down, please.”
He took the stairs, hope trying to blossom. They still hadn’t heard a single word from Adam or Josie— and though he wouldn’t admit it to his wife, he’d begun to worry.
If his bride had been well, he might have taken her along and gone to find them.
Something had to be wrong at this point, but maybe…
“Good afternoon, sir.” Bart presented the telegram.
“Come in.” Richard opened the envelope, scanned the message, then had to back up and read it once more with great care.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck rose…
The message seemed most pedestrian, simple, irrelevant, really.
Anyone who paused to think about it would wonder why anyone sent such benign content anyway.
He and Adam, if life ever calmed down and offered them a moment’s boredom, ought to rewrite the simple code they’d developed while still too inexperienced to know the challenges awaiting them in the mining business.
The key words leapt off the transcription of the wire, and Adam immediately knew two things.
First— he would lie to his wife, because if she knew the grave danger her twin had gotten herself into, or more likely, her twin’s husband had gotten her twin into… she’d be on the first train for New Mexico.
She wasn’t ready for travel, hadn’t regained her strength, and would be useless to her sister.
His honor as a husband meant he had to shield her from some of the more unpleasant things in life. He took his role seriously.
Second— the trouble in Utah Territory might be under control, but in New Mexico, it was far from over. Adam needed help.
Richard had to make a choice.
He could leave her, he supposed… but no.
Who had known, that morning when two telegrams had arrived at the same time, alerting them to dual accidents, that he’d ever choose home and hearth and watching over his wife… and hire someone else to see to business?
Especially when his closest friend and cousin required assistance?
Who knew anyone could mean more to him than Adam?
“I need to send a return message.” He gestured for Bart to follow him into the office.
Richard sat and wrote out first a carefully coded message that read like obvious code— inviting the President to Tea on Easter Sunday, and would she mind stopping for a loaf of bread and a pound of sugar on her way home?
They really needed to update the stupid cipher. But he couldn’t do anything about that now.
He wrote a second wire, hiring a team of men he’d worked with before, a few years ago when the lawless element in New Mexico had made operating an honest mine impossible. The gunmen were likely more help than Richard could ever be, at least in person.
A twinge of guilt nagged. The old Richard would have left immediately, seen to the problem himself.
But the new Richard was so in love with his wife, his priorities had shifted and changed significantly. With luck, the help he sent, the ongoing support from home would help Adam more than if Richard were there in person.
He handed the messages to Bart, passed him a generous tip, and saw him to the door.
“Good day, Mr. Cannon.” Bart waved as he hurried down the steps.
“Good day, Bart.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
EPILOGUE
Denver, Colorado
Christmas Eve, 1890
Richard proved to be correct, as usual.
By Christmastime, she was indeed well enough to travel in the complete luxury of a Pullman sleeper car. If the journey was like her sister’s honeymoon trip to New Mexico Territory, it would have been the most comfortable, enjoyable time spent with her new husband.
Richard joined her on the sofa, near the heat of the fireplace. The opulent, comfortable parlor, fully decorated for Christmas was absolutely lovely. As were Richard’s aunt and uncle.
Their warm reception left Lessie feeling like her family had just expanded. More people who genuinely loved her, and she found it very easy to love them in return.
Laughter and the murmur of voices sounded from the kitchen where Aunt Anna-Lisa and Uncle Noah prepared cups of eggnog.
Richard’s tender kiss to her knuckles warmed her deep inside, as it always had. “I have a special Christmas gift for you.”
She couldn’t help but smile and smooth a loving touch along the beard at his jaw. “Another one?” He’d used Christmas as an excuse to give her so very much. Anything and everything a woman could possibly need and then he’d moved on to a list of things she might want.
Surely he knew things couldn’t buy her heart, her love. Those were gifts she gave him, willingly. He’d won them from her in the simplest of ways… that had nothing to do with money or what he could buy for her.
“Yes. Another one. This one is small and has significant meaning.”
“I can’t imagine what it might be.”
His eyes twinkled, partly with reflected firelight but mostly with the joy and happiness she’d come to associate as part of her husband’s good nature. “Close your eyes.”
Because she trusted him so fully, it was easy to humor him.
“No peeking.”
“I won’t.”
He shifted on the sofa subtly, the same type of movement as if he removed his pocket watch from his vest. Then he took her left hand in his and slipped something cool… a ring?… onto her third finger.
She couldn’
t help it— she peeked.
He hadn’t removed the slim gold band she loved. Her husband was too smart to play a trick like that. But he’d added to it. A thicker gold band resided next to her wedding ring. In its setting, three green gems reflected and winked in the firelight.
“Oh, Richard— thank you. It’s lovely.”
With care not to jostle her shoulder, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed both rings upon her finger. He lingered a bit more than usual, though this simple gesture of kissing his ring in its place on her finger had long been his quiet way of expressing love and abiding affection.
“My grandfather presented this ring to my grandmother on their wedding day in June of 1838.”
The magnitude of this gift’s importance settled upon her and tears filled her eyes. “I’ll treasure it. Always.”
“I’m confident you will. This ring stood as a symbol of love, fidelity, and trust until the day my grandmother died. Not long before Grandfather passed away, he gave this ring to me, told me to find the great love of my life and present it to her within the bonds of marriage.”
Lessie searched her husband’s gaze, trying to understand the bigger story. Had he waited to give it to her until now? Had he wanted to see if their business arrangement would truly yield the right kind of love? Had he left the ring here, in the safety of the home he’d grown up in, and retrieved it only now, upon his return to Denver?
Richard leaned in and pressed a tender kiss between her brows. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“I know.” She smiled easily. “I’ll wear both rings, for the rest of my life. Both are very special.”
“Remember what I told you about my grandparents’ love story?”
“I do. I recall every word.”
“Keep in mind the best part. Love grows deeper, more refined, more precious with every passing year.” Richard wore love well. Significantly more handsome— if that was possible.
“Don’t take it off… just trust me. Grandmother’s ring is inscribed with her initials… your initials. To L.A. with Love Everlasting.” His swallow bobbed his Adam’s apple. “I’d have asked the jeweler to engrave the same sentiment.”
What had she ever done to deserve a love like this?
“I love you, Mr. Cannon, more than I did last week or last month.”
“And I, dear wife, will love you more tomorrow, much more next year than I do now.”
Trailing behind Aunt Anna-Lisa and his daughter Lucinda, Uncle Noah carried a silver serving tray and set upon the low table before the couch, then passed out each spiced, creamy beverage. Lessie hadn’t ever tasted the treat, but it looked delicious.
Lessie leaned back into the cushions of the sofa with only a twinge in her shoulder. Richard noticed her flinch, his expression clearly asking if she were all right. If she so much as grimaced he’d carry her off to bed and she’d miss her very first Christmas.
So she smiled, assuring him she was perfectly okay. Bringing the cup to her lips, she sipped the creamy, flavorful concoction.
Now, if only Josie and Adam were here, at home with his parents for Christmas, things would be every so much better.
Outside on the high-fashion avenue where the Taylor family resided, carolers had made their way along the street, pausing to sing at the doorway. Another crowd of carolers approached, strains of Here We Come A-wassailing discernible through the door.
“I’ll get the punch.” Lucinda, in the first blush of adulthood, fairly ran for the door.
Could it be she had a beau among this group of carolers?
Uncle Noah rose to greet the singers, sharing a private moment with Lessie and Richard as he shook his head in mock terror for daughter.
The music swelled, joyful, triumphant, and filled with such happiness in the season, Lessie could hardly contain it.
Richard’s hand rested within hers, so warm, solid. The music somehow made her love for him overflow.
She couldn’t help but wonder about the other girls, so many who’d scattered to the four corners of the United States in search of new homes, a fresh start, new futures.
Had any of them found as much of a home, as much love, as she?
Was she the only lucky one?
No— of course not. She knew from many letters and wires from Josie that she’d found something very special indeed with Adam Taylor. Their newlywed love had come most quickly, and Josie counted herself blessed beyond measure to have a husband who not only loved her desperately, but that she could love in return.
The carolers left off with that piece of music and started a precise Joy to the World! The Lord is come; Let earth receive her king.
Even if she didn’t have the joy of sharing this Christmas with her sister, she’s learned something she didn’t know was possible. She’d found family, that valuable, joyful sense of place and commitment and belonging she’d thought only possible with Josie… with her husband.
A rush of joyful, bubbling laughter at the front door sounded like Josie…
Back when they were girls.
One of the carolers must be a young girl, a delighted child, caught up in the joyful music.
Josie hadn’t laughed like that in years—
But then Josie was in the room, rushing toward Lessie at her seat on the sofa. Richard stood, helped her to her feet with only one sharp twinge in her damaged shoulder, and then she had her sister locked in her embrace.
Laughter surrounded them both, tears flowed. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
Repeat the sounding joy, Repeat the sounding joy!
Josie kissed her cheek, and suddenly the three months apart melted away, so much frost on windowpanes. “It was our secret. Adam’s and mine.”
She and Josie used to keep secrets, treasured bits of information known only to the two of them. Somehow, the loss of that oneness between herself and the one other person on earth was bittersweet… because now she had Richard.
And wouldn’t let him go, not for anything.
Not to recapture the connection with her twin.
She imagined Josie felt the same way about Adam. She wouldn’t begrudge her sister the beautiful oneness with her husband, either.
Richard and Adam shook hands, embraced like the brothers they were in heart.
The men didn’t sound remotely surprised to see one another.
Richard had known! And he’d kept the glorious, wonderful secret of the best Christmas gift ever.
No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make his blessings flow—
Who knew so much could change, so significantly in three short months?
“I have a secret,” Josie whispered in Lessie’s ear, so much like old times her heart squeezed. “Adam doesn’t yet know, so you mustn’t tell.”
Lessie nodded against her sister’s cheek. She’d earned her sister’s trust so very long ago.
“I am with child.”
Lessie’s heart squeezed. So much love, such abundance.
Not long ago, their family had been just the two of them. Alone, against the world.
Then Adam and Richard and doubled their family, bringing Adam’s parents— precious father-in-law and mother-in-law to both Josie and herself, and now a new babe.
A pang of wishing ran through her. How she’d love to have the same news… how wonderful it would be to carry Richard’s child, to knit their family together with even more love, because of a child they’d made together.
She met Richard’s eye over her sister’s shoulder, and the look they shared was filled with such love, such promise and contentment, she knew she could never be happier.
And wonders of his love,
And wonders, wonders, of his love.
The wonders of love, indeed. She held Richard’s gaze, love for her uncommonly good husband pushing her to reach for him. He approached, took her hand, then Adam followed.
Lessie left her sister’s embrace, gladly to step into he
r husband’s. In the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the joy and love so evident in Josie’s smile as she gazed up at Adam.
“I love you, Richard Cannon.” He’d given her everything her life had been missing. Love, happiness, belonging. “Thank you for the best Christmas ever.”
His warm laughter vibrated through his chest. Snuggling her good arm about his waist, she felt it as much as heard it.
The carolers finished their rendition, and to calls of “Merry Christmas!” went on their way.
“I’m glad you’re happy, dearest.” He gently fingered his grandmother’s ring upon her hand. She knew he would’ve brought it to his lips and kissed both rings upon her finger if it weren’t for the lingering damage to her shoulder.
He honestly believed she thanked him for the costly ring, the family heirloom?
“I am grateful for the ring, Richard— it means the world to me. But not because it’s expensive or beautiful. I love it because it means family to you.” She searched his hazel eyes reflecting firelight and warmth and love.
“As long as you like it.”
“I love it. And I love you. But the reason this Christmas is the best, ever, is because you’ve given me a family.” She turned a little in his arms, used her uninjured right side to indicate the parlor with Uncle Noah and Aunt Anna-Lisa kissing beneath the mistletoe, Josie snug in Adam’s arms dancing to the waning carolers tune, and their little sister Lucinda sitting down at the piano to play a merry holiday melody.
He lowered his head to speak near her ear, as he did so often, and the brush of his lips against her temple never failed to evoke a rush of warmth through her middle. “And to think our selfish goal— Adam’s and mine— to send for brides with a family connection, so this could happen…”
He focused every bit of his attention upon her then, cupping her face between his hands, touching his forehead against hers. “How is it possible that your finest gift to me is also your very heart’s desire?”
They wanted the same thing, her husband and she.
Family. Connections to last a lifetime. Marital harmony.