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Bride for Easton

Page 10

by Cassie Hayes


  Easton took that as his cue to leave and moved to a rickety crate on the opposite side of the far-too-small shack. He averted his eyes, not wanting to witness private women’s business. Still, the process had fascinated him.

  For the first time in his life, he wondered why everyone treated women like they were such fragile creatures. This woman had not only trekked through a snowstorm while she was in labor, but she suffered through what sounded like unimaginable pain, only to smile at the end.

  He’d thought the same about Molly, that she needed to be protected and sheltered. Yet she’d pressed on long after he’d been ready to turn around.

  Men could learn a lot about bravery from women, he thought.

  “Are you okay?” Molly asked, sitting on another rickety crate and slipping her hand into his.

  He squeezed it and jerked his head toward mother and child. “I’m not sure. Are they?”

  Molly chuckled. “They’re right as rain. I’m not sure they would have been if we hadn’t found them, though. She was very cold and very frightened.”

  “So was I, to be honest.” Easton looked deep into her eyes, trying to convey something he was having trouble articulating. “But I’ve never been more terrified than when you ran out of the house this afternoon.”

  A pained look flashed in Molly’s eyes, echoing the flicker of the fire behind them. “I apologized—“

  “I know, and I accepted it. I did. It’s just that I’ve been the one who usually runs away from our…disagreements, so when you ran out, I really didn’t know if you’d be coming back.”

  Molly scooched her crate closer and kissed his cheek. “I told, you, I’m not going anywhere. This is my life. You are my life.”

  He already knew it, deep down, but it comforted him to hear it again. “As you are mine.”

  He gave her a lingering kiss that drew a sigh from her. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed again.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy. As much as I want my parents to accept me, helping Constance has made me realize I don’t need their approval to live a happy life. Being with you makes me happy. Helping mothers and delivering babies makes me happy. Living in our little cabin with hardly any possessions makes me happy.”

  Easton grinned and kissed her forehead. “Now I’ve never been so happy!”

  The wind howled hard enough to blow dogs off their chains outside, but the three of them — no, four — were safe and warm, thanks to Molly’s persistence. He made a mental note to send Miss Hazel a thank you note. What a sad, lonely life he’d led before Molly exploded on the scene.

  “I want lots of those, you know,” she said, peering up at him.

  “Hmm? Lots of what?”

  Molly jerked her head back toward Constance and her slumbering baby. “I come from a big family, and I want a big family of my own…with you.”

  Doubt doused his contented mood. It would have been a lie for him to say he’d never thought about it, but those thoughts had always ended the same way.

  “I don’t know, Molly. I’ve never really had a family. I barely remember my father. I don’t think I’ll know how to do it.”

  Molly snaked an arm through his and hugged it tightly. “That’s okay, I’ll show you how it’s done. And I really think it’ll come naturally for you. You’re kind and caring and loyal. You’ll make a great dad, Easton.”

  Her faith in him gave him hope. “You think?”

  She gazed up at him, unabashed love pouring from her eyes. “I know.” She glanced over at her patients, then up at him again. “In fact, they’ll probably sleep for hours. Why don’t we get started right now?”

  Easton smiled at first, then laughed when her hand slipped inside his coat. He pulled it out and held her to him, simply enjoying their closeness. “Enough of that, now,” he whispered.

  But deep down Easton knew he’d never get enough of his beautiful, wild bride.

  Epilogue

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Molly’s sweet voice whispered into Easton’s consciousness as he rose up from the depths of sleep. He squinted against the cool light shimmering through a frost-covered window. Molly stood next to the bed, gently trying to rouse him. Stretching his arms wide, he yawned loudly, then clamped her into a surprise bear hug and pulled her on top of him. Her giggles were the perfect way to start off their first Christmas together.

  “Stop it, you brute,” she laughed, slapping his chest and getting back to her feet. She jammed her hands onto her hips and gave him a mock glare. “It’s time to do your duty.”

  Easton waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. “That sounds like the perfect way to start the day.”

  “Not those duties, and you know it. The sooner you finish, the sooner our Christmas can start. And I’m planning a feast you’ll never forget.”

  “Mmm, can’t wait. Any hints?” he asked as whipped back the covers.

  Brr! Instead of dressing in the chilly bedroom, he grabbed his uniform and followed Molly out so he could dress by the fire. Technically, his task didn’t require him to be in uniform, but it seemed only fitting.

  “Did I forget to tell you? Constance’s husband sent away for lobsters, as is their family custom, and he ordered extras for us. Isn’t that thoughtful?”

  “Very,” he said tugging on a thick wool sock, grateful for Molly’s own thoughtfulness at setting them in front of the fire to warm. “Have you ever had lobster?”

  Molly made a face. “No, is it strange? They certainly look strange. They remind me of giant versions of the crayfish my little brothers love to catch back home.”

  Easton smiled. “That’s more or less exactly what they are. Just bigger. They’re delicious.”

  “They better be, because cooking them is going to be scary,” Molly said with a laugh, pouring him a steaming cup of his favorite English tea.

  “I’ll be here to protect you. Speaking of, how are Mrs. Hildebrand and baby Molly?”

  A flush of pride filled his wife’s face. “Beautifully. They’ve decided to stay through the New Year to allow her to recuperate. I still can’t believe they named her after me.”

  “Really?” he asked as he buttoned up his red serge coat. “I would have been more surprised if they hadn’t, considering it was you who saved both their lives that night.”

  “I seem to recall a handsome Mountie being there too,” she said.

  “True, but only a crazy person would name their daughter Easton.”

  Molly laughed at his little joke as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. He loved her laugh, and he especially loved making her laugh. And he loved her for laughing at his jokes that weren’t really all that funny. It made him feel loved.

  “Yesterday she gave me the gloves she’d accused me of stealing. She said it was the only way to repent, and she wouldn’t let me refuse. Isn’t that thoughtful?”

  Easton said nothing. Sitting in his rocker, he motioned for Molly to sit in the one he’d had built for her as an early Christmas present. She blinked in puzzlement, but sat without comment.

  “I want to give you something too.” He reached into his pocket, and Molly gasped.

  “But you’ve already given me this beautiful chair,” she protested. “I don’t need anything more, Easton.”

  He pulled a folded envelope from his pocket and held it out to her. “It’s not from me. It came in yesterday, but I was too busy to bring it to you. When I got home last night, you were fast asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Molly frowned and took the envelope. Her eyes grew wide at the writing on the front, and Easton knew he’d guessed right. His heart raced, hoping its contents didn’t ruin her day, but the very fact her mother had written at all was a good sign the rift between them was healing.

  Tears dripped onto the letter as she read, making the ink blur, but she kept on. With her head dropped and her flaming red hair covering most of her face, he couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or sad tears. He prayed
for happy. Finally, she tipped her face up to him, a beatific smile radiating from the inside out.

  “Good news?” he asked hopefully.

  She pressed her lips together to stop from crying and nodded mutely, then launched herself into his arms. He let her weep for a few moments before easing her back.

  “You can tell me about it over breakfast,” he said. “Right now I need get going.”

  Molly sniffled and nodded. “But before you go, I want to give you something too.”

  She pulled a small brown paper package from the basket she used to hold her yarn, and laid it in his hand. It was so small. And smooshy. He caught her eye and smiled.

  “What is it?”

  “Only one way to find out,” she teased, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks.

  Easton couldn’t remember ever receiving a present before. Not like this. Sometimes grateful locals would drop off fresh-baked bread or cookies, but as much as he appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t the same.

  Slowly and with great care, he pulled the piece of twine until the bow collapsed. He laid it on the mantel, then returned his attention to the package. Turning it over, he eased one edge of the paper open until a tiny patch of knitted fabric became visible.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Molly huffed impatiently and threw her hands in the air.

  “What?” he asked innocently, then laughed. He loved driving her crazy like that.

  Ripping off the rest of the paper, he was left holding…something. Two somethings, in fact. Taking each by the edge, he held them up and studied them before understanding dawned. A quick glance at Molly’s beaming face confirmed his suspicion.

  Booties!

  “Are you sure?”

  She laughed. “I’m a midwife, Easton, and my best friend is a doctor. Yes, I’m sure.”

  Easton swept her up and spun her around the room, their laughter filling the cabin, as it would for years to come. He finally set her down, but he didn’t let her go. He would never let her go.

  “Ready?” she asked, grinning up at him.

  Easton sighed, the spell broken, though nothing could ruin this day for him. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  They walked hand-in-hand, Easton holding her tight on the icy patches, and arrived at the Institute to find a handful of people already gathered. Stella James, the town midwife, approached them.

  “Molly, Commander, Merry Christmas,” the old woman said, holding on to her own husband’s arm tightly to maintain her balance. “I wouldn’t bother about this today, but it somehow seems like the perfect day for it.”

  Molly and Easton gave each other puzzled glances.

  “What is it?” Easton asked.

  “Well, I’m not getting any younger, as you may have noticed, and this winter air sets my arthritis barking louder than a pack of huskies. Rupert here thinks it’s time we go live with our son in Florida, now that Molly’s here.”

  Molly frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Stella took Molly’s hand in her gnarled one and smiled. “The women in this town are like my own children to me. Every time Rupert brought up leaving for a warmer climate, I refused. I wasn’t about to subject these ladies to the care of that horrible Dr. Jenkins! But now that you and Dr. Montgomery are here, I feel like I’m leaving the townswomen in very capable hands.”

  “You mean…” Molly gaped at the woman, then tried again. “You mean you’re leaving me your business?”

  “If you’ll take it on,” Stella said. “These ladies need a dedicated midwife like you.”

  Molly pulled Stella into a fierce hug. Easton had always been a little envious of the way women could communicate with a mere touch. Now that he had Molly, he was learning the language, but he still had a long way to go.

  “Let’s get this show on the road!” Matthew called out. “It’s colder than Rocky the Reindeer’s rump out here!”

  He and Sinead, Nathaniel and Claire, and Samuel and Beth stood off to one side, all smiling broadly as Easton left Molly and mounted the steps to the Institute’s main landing. Turning to face the crowd, he slipped his hand in his pocket and squeezed the tiny knitted booties tucked inside. A sense of profound peace washed over him.

  Easton had never thought he’d one day have a family of his own. He wouldn’t lie and pretend the idea of fatherhood didn’t worry him, but he trusted Molly and his own instincts to show him the way. His first act as a father-to-be would be to send a letter to his superior, accepting the offer to make this position permanent.

  Easton had served as a proud member of the Royal North West Mounted Police for more than a decade. Having traveled east to west and back again — more than once — he’d always considered his entire country ‘home’, but as he looked around Cougar Springs, and the people who lived there, he realized he’d been wrong all along.

  This is my home, he thought, and this is where we will raise our family.

  But now was the time to accept his punishment for having a search party rescue him during the snowstorm. As he had every morning since that day, Easton straightened his back, took a deep lungful of air and started singing. Only this day was different. Instead of fighting butterflies in his stomach as he sang off-key and stumbled over the words, he belted it out with all the pride he held in his heart for his country, his friends and his wife.

  “O Canada! Our home and native land! True patriot love in all thy sons command.”

  Molly mounted the steps, slipped her hand into his free one, and started singing too. Easton had never heard her sing before, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest to hear the crisp, sweet soprano of her voice.

  “With glowing hearts we see thee rise, the True North strong and free!”

  As they sang together, more people gathered around, enjoying the brisk Christmas morning. A few even joined in.

  “From far and wide, O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. God keep our land glorious and free!”

  By then the entire crowd had joined in, a few singing along in French.

  “O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.”

  After the last long note died, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause, folks hugging each other or shaking hands. Easton’s heart nearly burst from his chest with love for his community. It had been there all along, it just took the love of a good woman — the best woman — to help him see it.

  Squeezing Molly’s fingers, he smiled down at her. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

  Molly returned his smile, clasping his hand in both of hers. “The merriest. The absolute merriest.”

  And it was.

  Did you enjoy Bride for Easton? I’d love it if you would spare a moment to leave a review on Amazon!

  Join the Mail Order Mounties Readers Group, a Facebook group for fans to discuss the books, chat with the authors, enter exclusive contests, and other fun stuff!

  Discover the entire Mail Order Mounties Series!

  Also by Cassie Hayes

  GOLD RUSH BRIDES

  The Beginning

  Emmy

  THE DALTON BRIDES

  The Drifter’s Mail Order Bride

  Hank’s Rescued Bride

  The Marshal’s Rebellious Bride

  MAIL ORDER MOUNTIES

  Bride for Nolan

  Bride for Dermot

  Bride for Easton

  SILVER SPRINGS

  Rocky Mountain Hero

  Rocky Mountain Home

  STANDALONES

  Poppy: Bride of Alaska (American Mail Order Brides)

  Hope on the Horizon (Debra Holland’s Montana Sky Kindle World)

  Back Home Again (Yosemite Flats)

  About the Author

  Cassie Hayes grew up pretending she was Laura Ingalls (before that pesky Almonzo arrived on the scene) in the middle of Oregon farm country. She lives with her husband and cat on the Pacific Ocean, and loves to hear from her readers.

  Connect with her at:

  www.CassieHayes.com

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bsp; cassie@cassiehayes.com

  © 2017 Cassie Hayes

  All rights reserved.

  www.CassieHayes.com

  Cover design by EDH Graphics

  http://edhgraphics.blogspot.com/

  Edited by Jessica Valliere

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

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