‘Libby! Let me in!’
The door opened and she fell into his arms, her face awash with tears. ‘Oh, Andrew!’ she wailed, and sobbed into his shirt front.
‘What?’ he demanded, freeing himself and holding her at arm’s length, desperately trying to work out what she was saying, but she was laughing and crying so hard he couldn’t understand a word.
‘I’m not a carrier,’ she managed finally, but by then he’d worked it out from the laughter and the smiles of the women grouped around behind her, and Will slapping him on the back, and the huge ball of pain that had been lodged in his chest for the last few weeks dissolved, leaving nothing but a searing joy so great it threatened to overwhelm him.
‘Oh, my love,’ he said brokenly. Dragging her into his arms, they wrapped her hard against his heart and held her while he wept.
‘Um, you’re not supposed to see your wife on your wedding day until the ceremony,’ Will pointed out, shoving a handkerchief in his hand when he eventually let her go. ‘It’s unlucky.’
‘No way,’ he said, shaking his head and smiling, but he backed away. ‘I’ll see you at the church. Um—your make-up might need a little attention.’
‘And you need a clean shirt,’ she pointed out, laughing a little unsteadily, then Amy pulled her back inside, pushed him out and closed the door.
They were married at twelve, in the little chapel at Ashenden, in a simple, joyful ceremony attended by their closest family and friends, and one year later, they were back there for the christening of their son.
They called him Edward, in memory of the cousin who had lost his fight against DMD just three weeks before, and William, for his uncle.
Amy and Will and Chris Turner were his godparents, and during the ceremony Sally rocked and shushed their baby Lucie—Lucie, whose birth had shocked Will into common sense, at last, and made him sell his horse and stop taking foolish risks.
It was a beautiful day, and afterwards they took a picnic down to the folly and drank champagne to celebrate.
There was so much to celebrate, so much to be thankful for, and as they strolled back to the house that would eventually be their home, their baby sleeping peacefully in his father’s arms, Libby’s heart was filled with joy.
‘Happy?’ Andrew asked, smiling down at her, and she smiled back, her love flowing over.
‘Happy,’ she murmured. ‘Very, very happy.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6111-6
THE SURGEON’S MIRACLE
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2010 by Caroline Anderson
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