by Mysti Parker
“Then how can you be sure this memory is real, that it’s not just another nightmare?”
“You’re right to question it. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not half the time, but I’m sure about this.”
She stared at him, unblinking, for several seconds. “I know you believe your memory is valid — I have no doubt of that — but for my own peace of mind, I need something… some little detail you can give me about him that will confirm it.”
Beau propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed his upper lip. His eyes flicked along the ground as though a clue might spring up from the dirt itself. Portia couldn’t help holding her breath, waiting. As agonizing as losing Jake had been, not knowing how he died still haunted her.
A dove flew from the tree above them, its coo, coo, coo brought Beau to attention. “I first noticed his eyes and light red hair — he had a beard to match. He wasn’t wearing gray — his coat was light yellow — like a squash, I guess. When he wrapped his fingers around my sleeve…” He looked down at his arm and mimicked the gesture with his own hand. “…I saw the tip of his middle finger was missing.”
She let out her breath and held tight to the locket containing her daughter’s hair. “He lost it when he was Jonny’s age. A stray dog bit it off. It was him. You were really there with Jake.”
He squeezed his hands together into one white-knuckled ball. “Had I known his identity, I would have made certain he made it back here. All I know is… you were the last thing on his mind when he took his final breath. I’m sorry. If I could have stopped it… if I could have saved him, I would have. I promise you that.”
She’d never felt such a tide of relief and gratitude in her life. In his last moments on this earth, Jake hadn’t been alone. Beau, who should have been his enemy, had chosen to sit by him and hold his hand until the very end.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The corners of his mouth lifted in a sad smile. She took his hand — the same one he had used to comfort her dying husband. But that gesture didn’t do her gratitude justice. Portia got to her knees and threw her arms around his neck.
“Thank you. Thank you, Beau.” Her tears came rushing out in waves as he rose to his knees and wrapped her in his arms.
“Come back to me,” he said. “Please come back home.”
“Yes,” she said, hugging him even tighter. “A thousand times yes.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Leaving Brentwood and her former life behind wasn’t nearly so difficult this time around. Ellen didn’t cry, and Frank didn’t argue, but he insisted they stay for lunch. They all sat around the table in Frank and Ellen’s kitchen and devoured Ellen’s chicken and dumplings.
After lunch, Portia cuddled sleeping baby Jake on her shoulder. Louise climbed onto her lap, holding a book of nursery rhymes. “Can you weed to me, Aunt Po?”
“Of course.” She happened to glance at Beau. His loving smile warmed her from cheeks to toes. No doubt he wanted more children, and she prayed she could make his wish come true. Louise opened the book, and Portia started reading:
“Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle…”
Frank sat directly across from Beau and plied him with questions. “So this woman you were gonna marry is dead? How you gonna make sure Po’s safe?”
“The cow jumped over the moon.”
“With Oliver Clemons gone, the whole town is safer. You don’t have to worry about that,” Beau said, while Ellen poured coffee for him and Frank. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“The little dog laughed to see such sport…”
Frank grunted his acceptance of the first round of interrogation. He propped his elbows on the table and took a sip of coffee. “What about this horse farm of yours? You gonna be able to keep food on the table and clothes on her back?”
“And the dish ran away with the spoon.”
Louise giggled and bounced on Portia’s knee. “More, pwease!”
Beau chuckled then turned serious again. “Thanks to my late wife’s aunt, my debts are paid, so my business has a much better chance to become what it once was. And I promise to do whatever it takes to make Po happy.”
Frank stared him down. Beau shifted in his seat but never broke eye contact. As though satisfied with her future husband’s sincerity, Frank then turned to Portia. “Is this what you want, Po? Do you think he’ll make you happy?”
She reached across the table and took Beau’s hand. “Yes. I never thought I could love again, but I was wrong. And today he told me something that made me love him even more.” Looking in his eyes, she sought approval for what she was about to say next. He nodded for her to continue. “Beau was with Jake when he died.”
Ellen gasped. With one hand over her mouth, she turned her astonished eyes to Frank. He didn’t show any surprise, but sat very still while Beau elaborated on the details of that terrible day. By the time he finished, Beau was choked up and stared down at his lap.
Several long, tense seconds passed before Frank finally spoke. “All this time, I’d been thinkin’ my little brother died alone. You might have been a no-account Yankee, but I’m grateful you were there for him. If you want to marry Po, I’ll give you my blessin’.”
The two men shook on it, though Beau winced from Frank’s strong grip. They all drove to the hotel in Brentwood to gather Portia’s things. When they were ready to depart, Ellen cried happy tears for once.
Portia hugged her tight. “I’ll be all right.”
“I know, and I can’t wait to stand beside you at the wedding. I’m so glad you answered that ad, Po.”
“So am I.”
Beau helped her into the buggy and accepted another crushing handshake from Frank. Once her belongings were settled in the back, he climbed in the driver’s seat.
Frank held baby Jake in one arm and wrapped the other around Ellen’s shoulders. “Drive safe,” Frank said. “And you better not wait too long to marry her, either.”
“I won’t.” Hand behind his back, Beau flexed his Frank-squeezed fingers.
Portia pressed a handkerchief to her lips to hold back a laugh.
Traveling after dark was risky, especially in a small open carriage. So they spent the night at the same Nashville inn where she and Frank had stayed when she had first traveled to Lebanon. Beau rented two adjoining rooms. They shared a pleasant supper in the dining room.
“I want to court you properly,” Beau said as they finished.
She reached for his hands and held them there on the table. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Maybe not, but I want to anyway. I want you to be sure about me.”
“In that case, why yes, Mr. Stanford. I accept your offer of courtship.”
A few other patrons threw disapproving glances at them, but she couldn’t have cared less. The two of them weren’t new at this, and conventions didn’t seem so important anymore. Arm in arm, they climbed the stairs to their rooms. Before he retired to his own bed, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. His hands settled on her hips, and he returned her kiss with one just as sweet.
He pulled back slowly, breathing hard. “Would you… let me stay with you for a while?”
Portia’s eyes widened. She hadn’t meant to break convention that much.
“No, no, not like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled apologetically. “I’m not good at this. I just wanted to hold you a little while, if that’s all right.”
He was so sweet about it, she couldn’t resist. “Why don’t you come in?”
He followed her inside, and she shut the door behind them.
Keeping the lamp dimly lit, they lay side by side, fully clothed except for shoes, on top of the quilt. Portia spooned up against him as close as she could get.
After a few moments, she sighed contentedly.
“What’s wrong?” His warm breath caressed her neck, reminding her of everything she had missed for all those months she’d slept alone.
“Nothing at all,” she answered. “In fact, I’d say it’s perfect.”
He held her tighter, found her hand, and interlaced his fingers with hers. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
“Then I’ll never sleep again.” But the lull of a good night’s slumber coaxed her into submission. It didn’t matter, though, because tonight she could rest easy in the arms of the second man she’d ever loved.
~~~~
Portia could not have imagined a sweeter reunion the next evening when they finally arrived. Bessie, Jonny, and Ezra ran down the drive, meeting them well before they reached the house. Soon as Beau helped Portia down, everyone immersed her in hugs, laughter, and happy tears. Even Isaac left the mule in the field where he was clearing fencerows and jogged over to welcome her home.
“Told ya she’d come back, son,” Ezra said with a belly-wobbling chuckle.
Isaac took care of the horses and carriage, while the rest of them continued on foot toward the house. Jonny held Portia’s hand, swinging it back and forth and talking up a storm about everything they would do together over the summer. Bessie walked with her arm in arm on the other side. Beau and Ezra fell behind them, and it all felt so natural. Portia had a real, live family again, and she planned to enjoy every moment with them.
“Oh, honey!” Bessie said as soon as they stepped through the door. “I knew you two were meant to be the moment you set foot in this house.”
“Really?” Portia put a hand on her hip and grinned. “From what I remember, you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“Pshaw! I knew you were his match. I think that’s one reason I didn’t like you at first. It’s always hard for a mama to let go of her boy.”
Beau hugged her, and she wiped her eyes with her kitchen towel. “Now, Beauregard Stanford, I’m sure you’ll be wantin’ to set a date right quick, but you better give me time to plan a meal and make a cake.”
Beau laughed and took Portia’s hand. He kissed her knuckles and winked. “We’ll get to that, Bessie, don’t you worry. Po and I are gonna have a proper courtship first.”
Ezra huffed through his mustache. “Why you gotta bother with all that? I can get the preacher out here tomorrow.”
“Hush your mouth!” Bessie snapped him with her kitchen towel. “A wedding needs to be done right. Don’t matter if it ain’t their first one.”
“However long this courtship lasts,” Beau intervened, “is up to Portia. But now I better let my future wife get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day of courtin’ ahead of us tomorrow.”
Portia yelped when he scooped her off her feet and started up the stairs, carrying her in his arms. “I’m capable of walking, you know.”
“You’re the most capable woman I’ve ever met,” he said, pausing the climb long enough to give her a quick kiss. “But just once, I’d like to feel useful around you.”
Portia buried her face against his neck and giggled.
~~~~
At breakfast the next morning, Portia had just taken her last bite of bacon when Beau hollered, “Jonny, get the fishing poles, and Bessie, pack us a picnic lunch.”
“Yippee!” Jonny leapt from his chair and streaked out the door.
“For heaven’s sake, Beau, let her finish breakfast first,” Bessie fussed.
“If I’m gonna court this fine lady, there’s no time like the present,” he said. “Ready, Po?”
She wiped her mouth. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The rest of the day was better than a sweet dream, and she dared not pinch herself just in case she did wake up. She, Beau, and Jonny went fishing. They didn’t catch a thing, but it was well worth the attempt when Beau slipped on a mossy rock and fell on his backside with a splash. They gave up and had a picnic under their favorite tall cedar by the creek. Portia challenged them both to a rock skipping contest, and she was the decided winner, much to the boys’ pretend consternation.
Later, they lay sprawled on their backs in the cool comfort of a cedar glade, watching the clouds drift by and trying to guess their shapes.
“It’s a horse,” Beau said.
Portia sat up and picked a nearby dandelion that had gone to seed. “That’s what you’ve said the last five times. Jonny?”
Jonny chewed his bottom lip. “Hmm… yep, it’s a horse.”
Father and son shared a belly laugh.
“Oh, you men!” She blew the seeds across Beau’s face.
He swatted them away, still laughing. Then he reached up, grabbed her, and pulled her down on top of him. She picked a stray dandelion seed out of his hair and basked in the light of his happy hazel eyes. She’d tied her hair back into a single, long braid that lay coiled on his chest. Beau ran his fingers down the length of it, then cupped the back of her head and brought her lips to his for a gentle kiss.
“Eww,” Jonny exclaimed.
Portia blushed and rolled off his father; she’d been so caught up in the moment, she’d forgotten all propriety. But Jonny’s face showed more joy than disgust. His happiness made this day all the sweeter.
“I’ve missed my riding instructor,” she said and gently flicked his freckled nose. “How about another lesson?”
“Sure!”
They saddled up and set out on the trail. Jonny rode one of the geldings, and she rode the four-legged snail that had been designated as hers. After a mile or so of waiting for her to catch up, Beau offered to let her ride with him on Scout. She didn’t argue one bit. They left Snail to graze where he had stalled over a patch of clover.
Beau wrapped one arm around her waist as they kept a leisurely pace under some of the tallest cedars of Lebanon. They arrived at the top of a hill at sunset. The view was amazing. Below them lay the town, surrounded by rolling hills, with fields laid out in a multi-colored patchwork bordered with trees and fencerows. The setting sun painted a gorgeous backdrop of red, orange, and gold. Jonny rode a short distance away, leaving them with a little privacy.
Beau whispered, “I love you.”
Turning toward him in the saddle, Portia circled her arm around his neck. “I love you, too, Mr. Stanford.” She met his smiling lips and soared into one of the best kisses of her life.
Resting in the warmth of his arms, she watched a flock of starlings fly over the town. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think we’ve courted long enough.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her ear. “Then let’s get married.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I got you something,” he said. “It’s not a ring, but I think you’ll like it. Hold your hair out of the way.”
She lifted her braid and pulled it to one side. He retrieved something from his vest pocket, and placed it around her neck. She let her hair fall and looked at her gift. It was the cameo she’d found him admiring that fateful day in the store and the moment she’d realized she was falling in love with him.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Beau.”
He sealed the promise of their future together with another deliciously wonderful kiss. Who needs an engagement ring when the man you love kisses you like this?
~~~~
Though it wasn’t exactly a surprise, when they shared the news of their official engagement over supper, Jonny, Ezra, and Bessie were over the moon. Talk swirled around the table about cake and a barbeque and when and if they might have a honeymoon. Jonny even asked when there would be a new baby.
Red-cheeked Portia and an amused Beau looked at him, and he shrugged. “What? I’ve always wanted a brother or sister.”
They laughed, and with a discreet move under the table, Beau patted Portia’s stomach. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”
The happy couple ended their perfect day at the door to Portia’s room. They leaned against the wall in the hallway, hands locked together between them.
“I was thinking,” Beau said with a mischievous grin, “there’s no need for a long engagement.”
“My thought
s exactly,” she agreed, bringing their joined hands to her lips so she could kiss his rugged knuckles. “We’ve both done this before, so why wait?’
“Let’s give it a couple days, so Bessie can make a cake and all that. She’ll have my hide if we elope tonight.”
“Then let’s not give her reason to. I rather like your hide the way it is.” Portia released one hand and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed as though she’d taken all his cares away in that one simple touch.
“Do you want me to stay tonight?” He captured her hand between his calloused ones. He lifted his hungry eyes to meet hers, throwing her heart into a crazy rhythm.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Yes… but if you do, I’m afraid Ezra will have to fetch the preacher right now.”
Beau rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard. “Don’t tempt me. Pa’s already asleep, but I bet he wouldn’t mind me waking him up for that.”
He kissed her before she could say anything else. His fingers pressed into her back as though they longed to explore what lay beneath. Portia’s fingers hooked into his shirt collar, flirting with the hot skin and course hair on his chest. Before they lost all control, she gripped his shirt and gently pushed him away, holding him at arm’s length.
She almost laughed at Beau’s pouting face. “Just a couple nights, that’s all. The time apart will make it all the better on our wedding night.”
He growled but stole a quick kiss then took two steps back. “I’ll hold you to that. Goodnight, Po. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She entered her room and closed the door. The taste of Beau’s lips still lingered on hers, and she savored it while resting her back against the cool wood. Her things were back in their proper places, at least until she and Beau could share a bed. She walked to the dresser and picked up Jake’s picture. Holding it to her chest, she thanked God for second chances.