by Heather Gray
Softly, hesitantly, Lizzie asked, "What if your folks ask you to go back to Texas?"
Grady stayed at Mary's side but answered Lizzie with nothing but love and reassurance in his voice. "My folks know I'm going to make my home here in Idaho. When they want to see us, they'll visit. They understand about that. If they need my help on the spread someday and ask me to come, then we'll cross that bridge. If I ever leave you guys here to go take care of something – in Texas or elsewhere – it'll be for nothing more than a spell. Unless God takes me home to glory, I'll always find my way back to y'all. You and your brothers and sisters are my home now."
Painful hope thickened her voice as Lizzie asked, "Will you give us goodnight hugs?"
His own voice raw with emotion, Grady said, "I'll give you goodnight hugs and good morning hugs. I'll even keep a spare hug or two around in case you decide you want one during the day, okay?"
Nodding, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, Lizzie nodded and said, "I approve."
Still maintaining his place by Mary's side, Grady shifted his gaze to where Clive stood. Gigi had settled down when Lizzie had started talking. Clive still held her, but the two no longer gave the impression they were partaking in a mismatched brawl. "Clive?" Grady asked.
Clive looked Grady up and down. Then, meeting the older man's gaze, he said, "You make my family happy, and that's important." As he said this, Clive set Gigi down on the porch. "It's okay with me, but so help me, if you hurt my family, you'll have to answer to me."
"I can't promise they'll always be happy with me, but I can promise I'll always do what I think is best, and that my love for them and for God will be the foundation on which all my decisions are made."
No smile marked his face, but with a brisk nod, Clive said, "Then I approve."
Grady turned back to Mary and asked, "So what do you think? Are you willing to give me a chance?"
Mary, who had been waiting with baited breath for Clive to give his approval, answered. "I don't take chances. I'm not a gambler, and I never will be. You, Grady Carlisle," she said, "are a sure thing. Yes, I will marry you."
Tenderness in his touch and love in his eyes, Grady stepped closer and reached up to cup Mary's face in both his hands. Gently, slowly, he leaned in. Electricity arced between them as his mouth got closer and closer to Mary's. By the time his lips touched hers, Mary's eyes were closed, and she was falling through a thick fog of pulsing sensation. The only light in the fog was bolt after bolt of white hot electricity. It lasted mere seconds, surely not even a minute, but by the time Grady pulled his mouth away, Mary felt singed by fire, a fire she wanted to dive right back into.
Leaning his forehead against Mary's, Grady whispered, "It's a good thing we have an audience." When he pulled away from Mary to stand beside her, holding nothing but her hand, she felt the cool autumn air brush across her skin and lift those strands of auburn hair that had come loose during their kiss. Thankful the kids were all still yards away on the front porch, she tried to think of what to say when Grady asked, "Lizzie, are you ready for one of those hugs now?"
Lizzie hurtled off of the porch and flew across the clearing. Grady squatted down and braced himself for the impact, but he was no match for Lizzie's adoration. Shifting from a squat to a kneeling position barely helped him to stay upright as Lizzie's arms locked around him. She buried her face in his neck. "I love you, Grady. I'm so glad you're going to be part of our family." Even Gigi, who was not one to allow herself to be upstaged, seemed to sense this was a special time for Lizzie as she hung back on the porch with her brothers.
Once Lizzie released Grady, however, Gigi jumped off the porch, scarcely touching the dirt, and launched herself into his arms. Her screech of "Yeeaay!" echoed throughout the farm and probably made its way all the way to the top of the mountainside. Mary, still standing there beside Grady, didn't know whether to clap her hands over her ears or laugh with joy at how happy her sisters were.
Clive and Bobby both came off the porch next. As each reached out to shake Grady's hand, he instead pulled them into a hug.
As the hubbub began to die down, Bobby said, "We should walk up the road and tell Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes the good news."
Grady ruffled Bobby's hair and said, "We will do exactly that… as soon as I finish my strawberry pie."
Giggling, Gigi said, "You should o'fixed him that strawberry pie months ago Mary!"
Clive, teasing his youngest sister said, "See, Gigi. You agree. All he ever wanted was dessert." Clive's long legs saved him from the girl's wrath as, running down the drive, he outpaced her.
Epilogue
Larkspur, Idaho Territory
December, 1878
"What do you think?" Mary asked her husband as he climbed into bed beside her. "Should we tell them?"
"Are you certain?" he asked. "Or is it a hunch?"
"Pretty sure, but I haven't seen Doc," she answered.
"Why don't you go in and see Doc while everyone's at school tomorrow. Let's make sure. If we tell those girls you're expecting and then it turns out you're not…" Grady's voice trailed off. Then, "Can you really be? We've only been married a month. Is it possible?"
With a whisper of a laugh, Mary asked, "You think I know these things?"
"Are you ready? Or were you hoping it wouldn't happen so soon?"
"I never thought about it. I mean, I figured it would happen at some point, but I never stopped to think whether or not I wanted it to happen."
"And now?"
"Well, now that I think about it, I – I'm so excited, I can hardly stand it. You're good with the kids, and although you're not their pa, they love you so much. I can't imagine anyone else I'd ever want to raise a family with than you, Grady Carlisle. What about you? Did you want it to take longer?"
With a snort, Grady said, "I want ten kids. Five boys and five girls. I figure that's a tall order, so the sooner we get started, the better."
Mary covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You do not want ten children." Then, when Grady said nothing, she added in disbelief, her eyes growing wide, "Do you?"
Grady reached out and ran his finger seductively along his wife's neck in a way that always sent delicious chills racing down her spine. "I want however many children God gives us. If we never have any, I'll consider myself immeasurably blessed with the family we have. If we have a dozen, I'll feel the same way."
Again following the line of Mary's neck, this time with his lips, Grady stopped only when Mary put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him away. "Tell me about Clive," she said when she finally had his attention.
Grady shrugged, his eyes wandering back to where his lips had just been. "Clive is going through the same thing all teenage boys go through. He's reaching that point where he feels more like a man and less like a boy, and he wants to declare his independence. In his defense, he's more mature and capable than most boys his age."
"Is that all there is to it? It seems like you two haven't been getting along."
Grady shrugged again, this time reaching his hand out to lightly caress the spot on Mary's neck. "Even though you're the one who kept everything going, as the oldest boy, Clive has probably felt for a long time now that he's the head of the family, that it's his job to protect y'all. He's having trouble adjusting to my stepping into that role, which I both understand and respect. We'll get through it. I'm patient. We're going to keep finding ourselves at cross purposes until we get it worked out, but there's no easy way to do that. I will give him as much latitude as I can. There are going to be some disagreements, and they may not all go as well as today's. It's part of growing up and growing into your role in the world."
"You're sure it'll be okay? I don't want him to get so mad he leaves us."
"I won't let it come to that, don't worry."
Mary searched his face and saw he was at peace about it. If her husband felt that way, then she would follow his lead. For tonight. Tomorrow, though, she'd have a word with Clive. He'd probably tell her
the same thing Grady had, but she'd feel better once she had his reassurance as well.
Grady leaned in and ran his lips in gentle kisses along Mary's jawline. "Is it okay if we do this?" she asked.
His words muffled against her skin, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"What if I am? Will it hurt the baby if we…" Mary's words trailed off as Grady sat back, putting distance between them.
His eyes suddenly bright with concern, he said, "I don't know. I never thought about that. Do people who are expecting… you know?"
"How should I know?" Mary asked in exasperation.
Grady blew out the lantern, and the room fell into darkness. He stretched out on top the bed covers, lying stiff as a board.
"Are you mad at me?" Mary asked.
Grady let out a big sigh, "No, hon. I'm not mad. I had one thing on my mind." Mary giggled at his words. "Now I'm trying to make my mind think about something else."
Mary reached out and rested her hand on his bare chest. "You could lay here with me. Why don't you get under the quilt?"
"I'm not sure I can stick to lying there. I don't think I trust myself with you quite that much."
Mary climbed out from under the bedding and lay down next to her husband on top of the covers. "I trust you enough for both of us. Or for all three of us."
"You'll go see the doctor tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"And you'll ask about whether or not we can..?"
"Absolutely."
Finally releasing the tension in his muscles, Grady rolled onto his side and pulled Mary up close against him. Wrapping his arms around her, he asked, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
Mary placed her arms over his where they held her. She laced her fingers through his and answered drowsily, "You ate my strawberry pie."
Grady faintly chuckled as Mary fell asleep in his arms. "It was just dessert," he whispered to her slumbering form, "but eating that pie was one of the best decisions I ever made."
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my agricultural guru, Jessica Schierman. She taught me more than I ever thought I'd need to know about soil types and layers in Idaho and how they determine what grows best. Not to mention a thing or two about the variety of foods cows can eat. I'd also like to give a shout out to Shannon Lewellyn who took the time out of her busy life as an army wife and stay-at-home mom to three preschoolers to read my manuscripts when they were still in the early stages of development. A girl couldn't ask for better friends!
About the Author
Aside from her long-standing love affair with coffee, Heather’s greatest joys in life are her relationship with her Savior, her family, and writing. Years ago, she decided it would be better to laugh than yell. Heather carries that theme over into her writing where she strives to create characters that experience both the highs and lows of life and, through it all, find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with her.
Also from Heather Gray
Chapter One
February 1815
Stafford Shire, England
Try as she might, Grace couldn't stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. She was hiding in her father's library, hoping no one would be bold enough to seek her out. Her parents were hosting a house party, and the guests were everywhere. Each person, it seemed, wanted to know everybody else's business.
When she heard the door behind her issue a soft squeak, she knew she'd been found. She kept her back to the door, not wanting the person to see how distressed she was. "Gracie, may I come in?"
It was Thomas! Though they hadn't seen each other much in recent years, he was a childhood friend and, the way she saw it, her one true ally here at this gathering. "As long as you close the door and let no one else enter," she said hoarsely.
She heard the door click again, followed by Thomas's movement through the room. He was soon leaning against her father's desk right beside her, his familiar tall frame, shortly clipped brown hair, and intelligent blue eyes a comfort to her.
"What's wrong? Surely Lady Appleton's ghastly morning gown isn’t enough to bring on tears. Temporary blindness, yes, but not tears."
Grace couldn't help the small chuckle that bubbled up and out of her. Thomas had always known just what to say, no matter her mood. Her father, the Earl of Miltmouth, and Thomas's father had been the best of friends. Thomas and Grace had naturally grown up together. She had seen less of Thomas after his father had passed away and he'd had to take over the running of the estates, but they had managed to remain friends.
"I asked Father if I could have a season in London," she said woefully. Grace, wrapping her arms around her midsection, felt nauseated.
"Ah, I take it he said no. Surely he'll bring you to London for a season soon. I assume he'll want you to marry well." When Grace said nothing in return, Thomas asked, "Am I mistaken?"
"You should have heard the awful things he said to me!" Thomas handed a kerchief to Grace, who wiped at the tears she still couldn't quite get under control. "He told me I'll never find a suitable husband. My mouth is too big, and my smile is too wide. I'm too skinny, and my bosom is too flat. No man will ever want to marry me, and going through the pretense of a season in London will be nothing but a costly embarrassment to the family."
Repeating all the terrible things her father had said to her made Grace cry even harder. Feelings of rejection and disbelief swirled through her. Her father, while at times eccentric, had never before said anything so cruel to her. The kerchief, now sodden, did little good.
That was when she felt Thomas's arms wrap around her in a hug. "It'll work out, Gracie. I don't know why your father would have said such things to you, but you can't let his words get you down. They're not even true. You have a perfectly sized mouth, a delightful smile, and… well, I'm sure everything else is fine, too."
Grace soaked in Thomas's warmth. She sighed into his waistcoat and said, "I appreciate the kind words, Thomas, but you shouldn't be in here alone with me. We both know that."
Thomas, his voice light, said, "It was in here with you or out there with the barracudas. I think I'm safer right where I am."
Grace didn't pull out of his comforting hug as she knew she ought to. Instead she said, "I've spent my whole life in Stafford Shire and have never even been to London before. All I'm asking for is one season. If I wait much longer, I'll be completely on the shelf, and no decent man will even consider marrying me. My father has doomed me to the life of being some man's courtesan!"
"You've been reading the newspaper again, haven't you?" She felt the warm rumble of his chuckle against her cheek. "You shouldn't even know words like that. If your parents knew you were reading those rags, they'd have your hide."
Grace's tears had quieted and were slowly being replaced by hiccups. Just as Thomas began to release her from his friendly hold, the library door opened with a loud bang.
"What the devil is going on in here?" demanded Lady Appleton.
Grace jumped out of Thomas's arms and said, "It's not what you th-ink." The hiccups were gaining momentum. "I was up-set. Thomas found me, and I was crying. He was simply be-ing kind."
The skin on Lady Appleton's florid face jiggled as she shouted, "Not only are you in a room with a man unchaperoned, but you were in an embrace!" Her gown truly was the most awful color. It was somewhere between green and brown, like a plant that had withered and died. To make the ensemble worse, she looked as if she were wearing an entire peacock atop her piled hair.
Seeming to thrive on spectacle, Lady Appleton continued to bombast them with accusation, her voice growing toward a crescendo. "You've been ruined, young lady! There will have to be a wedding at once!" If volume were the stick by which such things were measured, Lady Appleton's screeching voice ensured that Grace would feel maximum shame.
"Th-at wasn't an embrace!"
By this time, several people had gathered in the hallway outside the library door. When Grace's father came on the scene, Thomas spoke directly to
him, ignoring Lady Appleton. "I apologize for any misunderstanding. Gracie was crying. She was upset, might I add, by the cruel things you said to her. I'm nothing more than a childhood friend offering a bit of encouragement and reassuring her that her father is not the ogre he appears to be at present."
Grace had never heard Thomas's voice quite like this. The sharp edge of strong metal in it was unmistakable. This voice belonged to the Duke of Stafford, not her childhood friend Thomas.
Grace stared at Thomas and saw for the first time, not the boy she'd considered her chum, but rather the man he had become. His stature was impressive, his closely cropped brown hair stylish. It was his eyes that stunned her into silence, though. They had always been such a lively and cheerful blue, but now… now they glinted cold and steely, showing not a glimmer of warmth.
Lord Miltmouth turned from Thomas to Lady Appleton and demanded, "By all that is good and holy, what on earth is going on here? What are you carrying on about, woman?"
The earl was a tall and imposing man whose black hair had begun to silver at the temples and to whom people normally gave deference. Lady Appleton, however, was no mere mortal. As it turned out, she was a scandalmonger who was nourished with the milk of blather and who thrived on the meat of gossip. She was in her element and would not back down. If anything, her voice grew louder.
Peacock feathers bouncing with each word, she said, "I found your daughter and that… that man there… in an embrace here in this room. Without a chaperone, I might add. Obviously they must be wed at once!" Then she turned on her heel and marched away, leaving a trail of whispered conversation behind her.