The sound of boots on the stoop outside snagged her attention as the door opened and Simeon strode in. Daniel and Griz stepped in behind him, both men red-cheeked and brushing snow from their shoulders.
She moved toward the stove. “I’ve warm tea ready. I bet you’re cold. Take off your wet things and warm up.” Both men had been gone all morning to check Simeon’s stock. They must be frozen through by now.
After filling two cups, she turned back to the table. Daniel had slipped out of his coat and gloves, but Simeon still wore his. She raised her brows at him and placed the mug in his hand. “You going back out?”
“Thanks.” He dipped his head to let the heat from the cup warm his face. “I promised Hannah I’d take her to see the horses when I got back.”
“’Orses.” Hannah squealed and scooted down from her chair, then ran to her father. “’Orses, Papa.”
Simeon set his drink on the table and scooped the girl up. “That’s right, Hannah-bug. You wanna see the horses?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she giggled as she pulled away from his icy skin.
Watching the two of them, Noelle couldn’t help the way her chest squeezed, the love inside stretched her heart three sizes bigger.
Simeon had always been special, but he seemed so different now. So happy, yet almost vulnerable, the way he loved his new family. As if he’d found the courage to love them fully, holding nothing back. She wanted what he’d found. She ached with the wanting.
Simeon looked up, his gaze slipping to the closed door that led to his bed chamber. “Is Em finally resting?”
She nodded. “Finally. Hannah and I were making cinnamon crisps. They should be ready when you come back.”
He nodded, then moved to the door to help his little girl into her coat and hat.
Noelle turned her focus to the remaining dough that needed to be cut into shapes. Daniel had settled in a chair across the table from her, both his hands wrapped around the tin mug. His knuckles were red and chapped from the weather. She let her gaze lift to his face. “It must be cold out there.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you’re staying inside by the fire.”
She forced her face not to grimace. “My left foot has finally stopped aching from the dip in the creek.”
Concern gripped his face. “Did the darkness go away?”
She dropped her gaze, heat creeping up her face. “Um...not completely. Simeon thinks I may lose a toe or two.” How embarrassing to admit it—to Daniel of all people. Would he think her repulsive now?
“Aw, Noelle.” His voice was soft. Miserable. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better.”
She pulled her gaze back up to his. “It wasn’t your fault. It just...happened. I slipped on the ice. I’m thankful God put you there to help me. To save me.”
His brow bunched in a thoughtful look, a bit of a frown maybe. Like he wanted to say something he wasn’t sure about. He didn’t speak, though.
Maybe this was a good time to ask the question that had been haunting her for days. She had to ask. Had to plant the seed in his mind.
“Dan—”
“Noe—”
They’d spoken at the same time, but both paused. He motioned for her to go ahead.
She’d really prefer for him to speak first, to delay any thought of him leaving. But she needed to get this out, so she inhaled a steadying breath, then started cutting a triangle shape in the dough. “I was wondering what your plans are. Now that you’ve brought me here.”
He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched between them so long the muscles in her shoulders tightened. At last, she forced herself to look up at him.
His piercing gaze studied her, looked deep inside. All the way to her heart. Could he see the way she longed for him to stay?
“What do you want me to do, Noelle?” His voice came out low, thick.
She sucked in a breath. “I want you to stay.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Maybe it was the way he held her gaze, so tightly she couldn’t have looked away if she wanted to.
His dark eyes still holding hers, he rose and walked around the table until he stood in front of her. She wiped her dough-caked hands on a cloth without taking her gaze from him. All moisture had fled from her mouth. What did he think of her revelation? It was impossible to tell from his dark expression.
His focus flicked down to her hands, then he took her towel, set it on the table, and held her hands in his big, strong ones. “Noelle. I want to stay. But only if that’s what you want. More than that, I want to marry you. To make a life wherever you are. To love you until my last breath. Maybe longer.”
Her mind struggled to make sense of his words. To believe he meant it. His eyes had softened, creasing at the edges. The Adam’s apple at his throat bobbed. “I know I may not be the kind of man you want. I don’t have much to offer, a bit of money I’ve set aside, but I’m not civilized like someone you’d find back east. I’ll work my hardest to make you happy, though. We can move back to New York or wherever you need to go to be a journalist. I’ll do everything I can to make your dreams come true.”
Emotion clogged so thick in her throat, she couldn’t speak. She squeezed his hands as tears swelled in her eyes. How could this man—this remarkable man—be saying these things to her? Ordinary Noelle Grant. Could he possibly mean what she thought he was saying?
Tears slipped down her cheeks, and he raised a hand to brush them away. His brow furrowed. She had to say something, had to gain control of herself enough to speak.
Sniffing, she let her joy show in a smile. “Are you...sure?” Of all the things to say... But she had to know. If he didn’t really mean it, she couldn’t let her hopes rise just to be dashed.
His throat worked again. “I am.” The words came out soft, almost hoarse.
They unlocked a flood of joy as she let herself truly believe what he said. Daniel loved her. Wanted her. She stepped into his arms, and he pulled her in. She tried to hold back her tears. Happy tears. Relief flowed out of her. He wouldn’t be leaving. She wouldn’t lose him.
“Does this mean yes?” His deep vibrato rumbled in her ear.
She sniffed again, laughing. Then she forced herself to pull back so she could look at him. “Yes. Of course, yes. I was praying you wouldn’t leave me. I never thought God’s answer would be this wonderful.”
He cradled her with one hand around her back, the thumb on his other hand wiping tears from her face again. “I’ll never leave you. Wherever you want to go, we’ll go together.”
Between those words and the love shining on his face, her heart felt as though it might burst any moment.
And then Daniel lowered his mouth to hers, scattering every thought and feeling. Nothing mattered except this man. This moment with him. The promise of a lifetime together.
His kiss reminded her of that first time in the woods when he was injured. Inspiring a longing that rose up inside her, threatening to take control.
Too soon, he pulled away, his breath ragged as he cradled her face. “You undo me.”
His touch was achingly sweet, and she let her eyes drift shut as she leaned into him. “Daniel?”
“Yeah.” Those husky breaths proved just what an impact she had, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“We don’t have to leave here do we? Do you really want to go back east?”
He pulled away, his gaze roaming her face. “You don’t want to? What about your dream to be a journalist?”
She shrugged, then nibbled her lip. That had seemed so important once. How could she explain the difference to him? “I think... I think I wanted to be special. To matter.” Gazing into his intense eyes, she reached up to cup his cheek. “I think I’ve found that here.”
He covered her hand and pressed a kiss into the tender flesh of her palm, sending a tingle all the way up her arm. “You matter. I can assure you of that.”
It was impossible to hold back her smile. “I do like to write, and I think our stories—your
stories—need to be recorded. But I can do that from here. Maybe I’ll send some to the newspapers if you want, or maybe I’ll save them until I have enough for a book—just for our family.” She sent him a grin. “Wouldn’t that be something? A book called The Thrilling Life of Daniel Abrams.”
His chuckle came in a deep rumble that washed over her, melting her all the way through. “I have a feeling the real excitement has just begun.”
Her husband. It seemed too good to be true.
Epilogue
Noelle’s Journal
March 15, 1859
When I struck out from my parent’s home a year ago, I never imagined the changes God would send in these twelve months. I look back on that girl and struggle to recognize her. She was but a young woman full of stars in her eyes, thinking fame was her greatest goal and marriage the antagonist to her dreams.
Instead, I find myself here on this, my wedding day. Only a God who loves me so much would choose these mountains and this man raised as part of them to show how special He made me. When I look in Daniel’s eyes, I feel loved in every way.
He and Simeon have been working hard these past days to finish our home. Joseph came several times to help, and I’m so glad he brought Monti and little Amélie. Between Hannah, Amélie, and my new nephew Robert, the house is quite lively. I find I like it that way, just like being back home in South Carolina. The air rings with life and love—never boring. These little ones make me long for my own. Who would have ever thought?
I must go now, as Daniel awaits with Father Bergeron and the rest of our family. Our new home will be fairly bursting with all those who come to share our joy.
Thank you, Father, for this gift. My heart overflows with gratitude—and love.
The End
If you enjoyed Daniel and Noelle’s story, you won’t want to miss book 5 in the Heart of the Mountains series! This Homeward Journey tells the story of Rachel and Seth (one of Noelle’s little brothers). Here’s a peek at the beginning!
Chapter One
JUNE, 1869
Fort Benton, Montana Territory
Rachel Gray straightened her shoulders as she scanned the dim interior of Fort Benton’s trade store. The high brick ceiling made the room feel less hemmed-in than she’d expected, but her vision still spotted with remnants of the bright afternoon outside.
Male laughter echoed from a back room, tugging the knot in her middle. She’d come into this tiny trade room tucked inside fort walls because she’d been hoping to avoid all the raucous men sloshing down the streets of the town. She’d had her fill of mountaineers sated from an afternoon of drinking and gambling.
It seemed when the men stumbled from their bedrolls late each morning, they headed straight for the gambling tables. Not that a man could help his addictions once the demon was planted inside him. But these were a sorry lot. They’d come west hungry for gold or to escape their lawless past. Maybe even a hangman’s noose.
The sights and sounds of their den still churned her stomach into a tight wad.
“Howdy, ma’am. Need help with somethin’?”
She spun to face the man who strode toward her from beside a large hearth. His buckskins and overgrown beard made him a perfect match to most of the others she’d observed around the town, though his manner seemed proficient enough. Like a worker in the course of his duties.
Indeed, he strode behind the wooden counter, bent to peer at a lower shelf she couldn’t see, then straightened. He spread his hands across the worn wooden surface and peered up at her, as though eyeing her over spectacles. He wore none, but the look was telling. As was the indention across the narrow part of his nose.
She pulled her gaze upward to his assessing eyes. “I’ve a question about the trail northward. Is there a guide here who knows it well? All the way to the Canadian territories? I need someone to ask the best route through the mountains.”
His graying eyebrows shot upward. “You aimin’ to head that way?” He didn’t say more, but the silence lingering after his question added another word to the query. Alone?
Maybe he thought women the weaker vessel, but he’d not traveled with her the last two and a half months. She and her son had managed quite well trekking across the prairie land alongside the Missouri River.
Without the help of a man. And they could continue north alone, too, as long as they had a map to guide them. Finding the trail through the mountains would be much harder than following the Missouri River as they’d done to this point.
Of course, Philip sometimes tried to fill that role, but at twelve, he carried only the good qualities of the male species. None of the weaknesses.
And she’d keep him that way as long as she had breath in her body. Thus the need for their journey northward.
Ignoring the shopkeeper’s question, she proffered one of her own. “Have you a map or sketch of the best route through the mountains?”
His mouth pinched as he studied her. “The best route is to the east, through the prairieland alongside the mountains. You be goin’ to Fort Hamilton?”
Apparently he did know the northern country. A sliver of satisfaction filtered through her. “I’d rather go through the mountains. I prefer that terrain to the flatlands.”
His brows hiked up again, nearly brushing his thinning hairline. “You musta ain’t seen those mountains yet. You’ll go twice as fast an’ stand a sight better chance gettin’ where yer goin’ if you stay on the prairieland.”
She let his words slide past her. His statement may be true, but she’d also seen the two trains of wagons heading on that same eastern route just this week, filled with supplies from the two steamboats docked beside the levee. She’d not spend the next weeks in the company—or rather avoiding the company—of a stream of vice-ridden freighters.
But she also didn’t plan to pick a verbal skirmish with this man. “Perhaps you could provide me with a map for both routes. Have you such? Or is there someone nearby who could sketch the trails?”
Obtaining actual maps might be too much to hope, but she didn’t want to have to ask directions at each settlement she passed. Entering every town would require rubbing elbows with too many strangers.
And leaving Philip alone each time.
The man ran a hand over his greasy hair as his look turned thoughtful. “I could probably draw up something that showed the milestones I know of.” His focus turned sharp again. “Can you give me a day or two?”
The relief sinking through her almost brought a smile. “I can.” A day or two would allow their horses more time to rest before the rough terrain they’d encounter next.
He nodded, then his expression eased into something hopeful. “I don’t suppose you have a way to pay for my efforts?”
She wasn’t sure whether to be incensed that he would think she’d consider taking goods without paying for them, or weighed down by the fact that she’d have to part with their hard-earned animal pelts. She settled for a displeased expression. “I have furs to trade.” Hoisting her bundle up to the counter, she unfastened the cloth wrapping the skins and unrolled them. “I need cornmeal, beans, salt, and any kind of horse feed you have. How much will you offer for these?”
The way he perused the stack made it clear he knew his wares. And she had nothing to be ashamed of in these. Every animal Philip brought down for their food had been carefully skinned, and she’d spent long hours readying these hides. They may not have two nickels to spare, but out here in the frontier, they wouldn’t need coin any longer. Trading was the expected means of obtaining supplies.
For the rest of the journey to find Joel, they could barter for whatever they needed. The idea of having enough to feed them seemed almost too good to trust in the possibility. As was the hope of finding her brother in this wilderness, but she had to try.
After examining the furs, the man leveled a long, and thankfully sober, gaze on her. She tensed for the insulting offer that would come next.
But the deal he proposed was slightly bette
r than she’d been hoping for. Had she misjudged the price of supplies in this western fort? Or maybe the value of furs was higher than she’d estimated.
Either way, she couldn’t afford to miss even one pound of corn she might gain by bartering a good transaction. She raised her chin and asked for five more pounds of beans.
The men let out a hard breath and rocked backward, then scrubbed a hand through his hair again. “Here I thought I was bein’ noble giving you my best offer up front.” His chuckle sounded half amused, half frustrated. “I ’spose, but not a pound more.”
She let her breath ease out in a quiet stream, refusing to allow the niggle of guilt that tried to slip into her midsection. “Good. I’ll take the supplies now and return in two days for the maps.” She hated to hand over the furs without receiving everything owed to her, but they couldn’t wait for food. Philip had already leaned more than she liked, even with the steady diet of venison, rabbit, and anything else he could bring down with the rifle. Growing boys took in more food than she’d imagined.
The man eyed her once more over the brim of his invisible spectacles. “Supplies are out back. Don’t suppose you have a wagon to load them in?”
“I’ll bring my horse around.”
And as she turned to leave the place, the rush of accomplishment surged through her. Supplies and a map. This arrangement worked better than she’d allowed herself to hope.
As she reached for the door, a swell of male laughter from the back room stole any joy the happy thoughts might have conjured.
They’d have food for a few weeks and be able to travel on their own, but as long as men allowed themselves to fall under the spell of awful vices like the drinking and gambling taking place on the other side of that wall, she and Philip could never truly be safe.
“WE’LL HEAD OUT IN TWO days then?” Seth Grant leaned in as he waited for the older man’s confirmation. He could practically taste the open wilderness again. A much better sensation in his mouth than the flavors of tobacco and whisky consuming the stale air around the card game.
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