Heading down the boardwalk, he didn’t get far before his gaze gravitated to the movement of a figure in his peripheral vision—Leah had just left the seamstress’s shop. She stopped at the edge of the boardwalk, tucked in her scarf, then pressed a hand to her hip.
So much for going home. Part of him wanted to go offer his arm. The other part simply froze.
Gingerly she stepped into the street, papers tucked under her arm. Her limp was more pronounced than usual, her face more beautiful. The cold wind amplified the roses in her cheeks and tugged at the pins in her hair, loosening her dark locks to frame her dear face.
He drank in the sight of her, for he might not see her again for a long time.
Upon spotting him, Leah limped straight over. After crossing the street, she took the papers out from under her arm. “I went to talk to Bo McGill this morning, and he sent me to the Volkmanns. They might be interested in the house if they can handle the payments. Mr. Rice is offering more, but I’d rather see it go to Charles and Lavinia since they’d hoped to have her mother moved in already.”
She continued, a little winded. “Charles plans to add on to his house again once the snow clears, but they already have such a small yard. It’d be a shame to lose more of it when they’ve got so many children. What do you think?”
Seeing her go forward with selling their house so quickly hit him hard. The house would be perfect for the Volkmanns, but then, where was Leah going to stay? “I just talked to the lady at the laundry. I thought she said she was going to live in the upstairs apartment. So are you moving in with Ava?”
“No.” She gave him a look, which usually meant he’d been caught not paying attention. “I’m going with you.”
“You are?” His chest nearly caved in on itself.
“Yes, Mr. Rice has agreed to lease the laundry to Mrs. Gerwig, the Volkmanns should take the house, and I’m going with you.”
“But what about being a grandmother? Helping Ava?”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the seamstress’s shop. “I talked to the girls. Jennie’s fine with us coming back whenever we can, four times a year if possible.”
Since Jennie wanted to visit all the big cities, that would take a lot of traveling. As much as he wanted Leah to come… “Are you sure? Wouldn’t your hip—?”
“I can’t imagine it’d be any more difficult than standing in the laundry all day. Plus, I could probably sit some while Jennie’s selling books.”
He swallowed hard against the hope he didn’t want to squash back down.
She tilted her head. “Don’t you want me to come?”
“Of course! I’ll always want you with me, but I don’t want you to resent me any more than you already do. When I’d first asked you to leave with me, I was hoping to settle somewhere, but with Jennie wanting us to travel, I hadn’t thought it through. You—”
“I don’t resent you, Bryant.” She took a small step forward and looked up at him, her eyes intense. “I love you.”
The wintry air he’d sucked in couldn’t keep his head from swimming. Did she really mean that or had she only said that because she thought she ought to?
She took another step closer and ran a hand down his arm. “I love you so much, that no one else has ever had the power to hurt me like you do. But I’d never believed you would, so when you did, I broke. Especially when I realized how you could hurt me again and I was afraid you’d do so.”
“One day, I hope to get back into your good graces. I’ll never again—”
“Not one day, Bryant. Today.”
Today? “What do you mean?”
“That I miss you. That I forgive you. That I trust you. Right now. I choose to.”
“Truly?” He ran a hand through his hair to keep from snatching her up, his arms literally shaking with the need to have her closer. Could he still be dreaming? Perhaps he’d fallen asleep with his arms around her, and any moment he’d awaken and she’d not be—
Soft arms slipped around him under his coat, and Leah’s warmth was as undeniable as the freezing snowflake hitting the back of his neck.
She tilted her head back to look at him. “I’m ready to love you again with my whole heart—still afraid, mind you, but I’m miserable without you, inside and out. I’ve not been a fun person to be around for a while, and I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
The dark heaviness that had weighed him down for more than a year melted away like the snow upon her face. He swiped a snowflake off her brow then pulled her against him, as close as he could get her. “Oh, love, of course I forgive you.”
Whenever I balk at following your will, Lord, help me to remember this moment, standing in the snow with her in my arms after so long. I don’t want to lose this treasure again.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Merry Christmas, darling. May I never take your gift of love and forgiveness for granted ever again.”
She leaned away from him, giving him a huge smile. “You better not.” And then she rose on her tiptoes and pulled him down for a kiss.
He stumbled forward, but in two beats of his heart, he gave up any sense of propriety and drowned himself in the sensation of his wife pouring out a love for him he’d nearly given up on ever feeling again.
She broke their kiss and brought her hand up to his face, swiping at the tears she’d found there. “You’re crying.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, but drew her back to him. Forget tears, he hadn’t had enough of her.
After another round of kisses, she pulled away far too soon. “I think we ought to go home.”
He gazed at her through the flurry of new snow being unleashed from the heavens. “You’re cold?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Not in the slightest.”
“Me neither.” Could a man die of happiness? “Let’s go home.”
“To pack?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, and she laughed, shedding the sadness he’d not realized she’d been wearing on her face for ages. His heart lifted so much he couldn’t tell if his feet were still on the ground. “I can think of something else I’d rather do than pack. Are we … there yet?”
“That depends on you.”
“Oh, good heavens, yes.”
She chuckled and laced her arm around his and pulled him toward home.
Epilogue
Montana Territory ~ Late Summer, 1885
With the last blow of his hammer, Bryant nailed the final shingle from his stack onto the newly constructed bank. Sitting back on his heels, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Across the street and down a block, he could make out his daughter in front of City Hall. Only a few books were stacked on the table beside her. Hopefully that meant she’d sold a lot this morning.
To Jennie’s right, his wife was engaged in conversation with a plump woman in a pink hat.
“Lunch time!”
Pushing off his knees, he tried not to hobble. He didn’t want his boss thinking he was too old to continue roofing. He needed this job until the end of the week.
After climbing down the ladder, Bryant washed up. He wouldn’t have long to eat with his family, but he could try to be as presentable as possible.
Dodging the carts in the street, he jogged toward his wife, who’d just finished talking with the lady in pink. Since Jennie was conversing with two other ladies, Bryant took Leah’s arm, ignoring her small protest, and pulled her into the alleyway between the city buildings.
“What are you doing?” She laughed. The happy, easy sound was a boon to his heart.
He led her behind a partition, leaned against the wall, and pulled her against him. “I was thinking about last night.”
Her eyebrows winged up as she leaned back to look at him. “Oh, you were?”
“Yep.” He nuzzled her behind her ear, planting a kiss on her neck. “Want to do that again tonight?”
She shook her head—but not in a manner that meant no. “That’ll entirely depend on Jennie turning in ear
ly, but she may not. She’s sold twelve books so far today!”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Did you see me talking to the lady in the big pink hat?” Upon his nod, she leaned into him. “She bought Jennie’s book at the Christian Church yesterday. Said she read it in one sitting and told all the ladies in her congregation to buy it. They must have listened. We’ve had a steady stream of customers since nine.”
He’d noticed quite a few people, but he’d figured city halls were normally busy. “Good. Let’s hope she sells even more so I won’t have to lug such a heavy trunk onto the train this Friday.”
“Well, enjoy it while it lasts. As soon as we’re in Armelle, we’re sending in an order for more, maybe even enough to fill two trunks.”
He groaned.
“Hey, I’m not complaining.” She ran a hand down his upper arm. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been this muscular.”
He laughed. “Back then, I didn’t have to lay on a hot compress at the night just so I could manage to hobble into work the next morning.”
“It’s getting easier every day. You don’t complain too much anymore.” She kissed his calloused knuckles. “And with the amount of time that’s passed, perhaps someone in Armelle will take a chance and hire you—for labor, anyway.”
“Speaking of home, I went by the post office earlier.” He pulled out the letter he’d tried not to wrinkle all morning.
Leah stiffened. “From Ava? Is everything all right? Don’t tell me she had the baby early and we missed it, or—” She put her hand to her throat and her face drained of color.
“Nothing bad has happened. You worry too much.” He slipped the cabinet card from the envelope and glanced at Lenora’s impish grin, matched by the mischievous glint in her eyes as she held onto a little rocking chair. “Our grandbaby’s got will power. She stood still long enough that only her hands are blurred.”
“Exactly like her mother—sassy and stubborn.” Leah took the picture and gazed at it lovingly. “But why send this now? They know we’re on our way back.”
“I think she was just eager to show off the picture.” He unfolded Ava’s letter and pointed to a section for Leah to read. “But this is why she wrote.”
As she skimmed, her forehead wrinkled adorably. The scar running through her brow begged him to press his lips against it, as he did whenever he noted the permanent mark of his selfishness stamped upon her face. How unworthy and blessed he was to still have this woman in his arms.
Leah’s eyes widened suddenly. “The McGills are going to let us stay at their place?”
“Seems so. That’ll keep us from crowding Ava and Oliver.”
Leah pressed the letter against her chest and stared at the brick wall opposite them. “Do you think your staying there will ruin the hard work Bo’s put in to restoring their family name?”
He frowned. He’d not thought of that. Leah’s steady love and Jennie’s dependence often made him forget that a cloud still hung over his head. “Maybe we should decline their invitation—or at least, I should. I can bunk at Jake’s or Nolan’s. You’re the one Ava needs anyway.”
“Ah, but I need you.” She turned in his arms and framed his face with her hands. “And you’ll be handy for keeping Lenora entertained while we wash diapers and burp the little one.”
“I’d hoped Oliver would do that. Maybe if I’m not there, he’ll have to.”
She unfolded the letter, probably to read it from the beginning. “Let’s not dismiss the offer right away. Perhaps Ava knows how people will react to you better than we do—we have been gone nearly eight months.”
“I don’t know…”
She gave him a sly half-smile on her face. “If I’m going to be sleeping in the fanciest room I’ve ever stayed in…” She planted a soft, lingering kiss by the corner of his mouth. “I’ll want you with me.”
His heart never failed to trip when she whispered such things to him. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I do love sharing a room with you.”
She laughed and pushed him away slightly, her eyes glittering. “That’s no secret.”
He leaned down to kiss her, but the unfinished letter seemed to be warring for her attention. He broke away with one last light peck on her lips so she could read through the rest of the letter.
When she finished, she lowered her hand, letting the letter hang at her side. “I’m surprised the McGills would be so generous. I mean, why us?”
“You’ve always said Gwen wasn’t as bad as people thought, and from what you and Jake told me, Bo’s worked hard to make up for what his father did, so apples can fall far from the tree. I hope ours don’t though. Our girls would be lucky to turn out exactly like you.”
She sighed as she flipped the letter over. “If only Oliver were more like you.”
He shook his head, knowing the only thing in that letter that could be considered as Ava speaking ill of Oliver was how much time he’d spent building a larger root cellar. “He’s not an ex-convict, which completely makes up for any lack of attention on his part.”
Leah whirled about and gave him the look she used to give the girls when they were naughty. “Oliver and I and everyone else in this world are no better than you in light of God’s law. No one’s perfect. But thank God, no matter how badly we do, He loves us still—just as I love you.”
He smoothed back a strand of her hair that had fallen over her brow. “You’ve always been too good for me, you know that?”
“No, it’s God who’s good.”
“You’re right.” He soaked in the sight of one of the most precious gifts God had ever given him, then pressed a kiss against her hairline. “He’s been so very good.”
I hope you enjoyed Depending on You!
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More stories in the Frontier Vows series are being written. In the meantime, if you’d like to read Jacob and Annie’s or Nolan and Corinne’s romance, check out Romancing the Bride and Pretending to Wed. If you’ve already read those, I have a free story to hold you off in the meantime, check out Love by the Letter: A Novella which starts my Unexpected Brides series.
Author’s Note
For those curious about the historicity of Jennie’s self-publishing ventures, I wanted to write a bit about what I learned about the blind at this time in history. Blind children were often babied and sheltered by parents who were at a loss at how to help them. When blind schools came along, many were shocked at how well the people they’d relegated to the sidelines could learn. Schools gave the blind confidence in themselves and lifted their spirits with activity and education which had been previously denied them; however, upon leaving the schools, the blind often struggled to survive in the workplace. Many begged to return to the schools and work for room and board.
Once these schools realized education alone wasn’t enough, many set up shops to help their alumni stay out of the poor houses.
Those who ran the blind schools worked hard to advocate on behalf of their students, but soon, many of those students became their own advocates through writing. Some chose to self-publish their stories and peddle them to support themselves and inform the public that they were more than their disability. Jennie’s plan is modeled on those entrepreneurs who were desperate to provide for themselves and eager to enlighten the sighted.
If you’d like to learn more about what the blind faced in the 1800s, I’d suggest reading the article, “The Meanings of Blindness in Nineteenth-Century America” by Ernest Freeburg. If you use Google, you should be able to find a link to the pdf through AmericanAntiquarian.org in the search results.
Acknowledgments
Stories beg to be told, but
never start out perfect. Thanks to Heidi Chiavaroli, Myra Johnson, Natalie Monk, and Naomi Rawlings for their skilled insight and fitting me into their busy lives to help me craft this story into something more enjoyable for readers. Thanks to my beta readers for catching the little things: Sarah Keimig, Stephanie McCall, Amy Parker, and Anne-Marie Turenne. And to Judy DeVries for proofreading and Najla Qamber for the beautiful cover.
Also, thanks to my husband and children, who love me in spite of myself. I, like Bryant, have been given a gift I didn’t deserve when God gave me all of you.
Also by Melissa Jagears
UNEXPECTED BRIDES
Love by the Letter: A Novella
A Bride for Keeps
A Bride in Store
A Bride at Last
Blinded by Love: A Novella
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TEAVILLE MORAL SOCIETY
Engaging the Competition: A Novella
A Heart Most Certain
A Love So True
Tied and True: A Novella
A Chance at Forever
* * *
FRONTIER VOWS
Romancing the Bride
Pretending to Wed
Depending on You: A Novella
* * *
NON-FICTION
Strengthen Your Fiction by Understanding Weasel Words
About the Author
Much to her introverted self’s delight, award-winning writer Melissa Jagears hardly needs to leave home to be a homeschooling mother and novelist. She lives in Kansas with her husband and three children and can be found online at Facebook, BookBub, Pinterest, Goodreads, and melissajagears.com. Feel free to drop her a note at [email protected], or you can find her current mailing address and an updated list of her books on her website.
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