Fire and Ice

by Leah Atwood

She turned to Candace. “I’ll be back in a few hours so Patrick can get some rest.”

  “Thank you.” Candace’s sleepy eyes were fluttering as she spoke.

  The clunky sound of a wagon approaching drew everyone’s attention outside. Sam went to check it out and Maeve followed. Patrick stayed inside with his wife.

  Rand McCade was pulling in with a wagon full of lumber. Intrigued, Sam went to greet him.

  “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” Rand answered.

  “What brings you out in this freezing weather?” Sam asked. Maeve came to his side and joined their hands.

  Rand grinned and hopped down from the contraption. “First, I owe you an apology. I haven’t been very neighborly to you which was wrong, especially over a misunderstanding I should have bothered to correct. When I make a mistake, I’m man enough to admit it.”

  “Apology accepted. I think you’re the only man I know who smiles while delivering a request for forgiveness.”

  Chuckling, Rand looked around then sobered. “I’m really sorry about your family’s home.”

  “So are we, but we’re trying to focus on the positive.” Trying being the key word. Maeve squeezed his hand and though she was silent, he could hear her gentle urging to not give in to negative feelings.

  “Well, I come bearing good news.”

  “What would that be?” Sam asked.

  “The town held an emergency meeting first thing this morning. As I’m sure you’re aware, a fund was started last summer to help any Weatherton citizen in need. At this morning’s council, it was decided the town would purchase the materials necessary to build a new home for your family. This is the first load, right here.”

  Overwhelmed with surprise and gratitude, Sam was struck speechless. Yes, he’d known of the fund and it was a common belief that it was created with an inheritance left to Rand’s wife, Lettie. However, Sam never imagined it could help in this large of a scope.

  Rand continued. “I talked to your mother this morning, about several options. We could rebuild where the old house was, but first we’d have to clear the remains out. With the winter rapidly approaching, that might be a tricky timeline to work with. The other option is to build in a new location and clean up the remains as we go, but that way, the new house will be done sooner.”

  Finding his voice, Sam responded. “This is all too much.”

  “Listen, Sam. The folks of Weatherton failed your family. We’re commanded to look after widows, but we did nothing for your Ma in the aftermath of your Pa’s death. From everything I’ve heard, Mr. Holden was a good man. I arrived after his death, but that’s no excuse. This is our way of making amends and correcting past wrongs.”

  He wanted to protest. His pride wanted to say no. From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Maeve, tears streaming down her face. Tears of joy, no doubt.

  “I don’t know what to say other than a heartfelt thank you.” He extended a hand to Rand, who accepted and shook it.

  “Then let’s get busy. Your Ma mentioned a piece of land in an old pasture. Do you know which one she meant?”

  Sam smiled—he knew exactly which one. “Yes, I do.”

  “Can you help me unload the lumber? Some men will be coming in the next hour with more. Your family will have a new house by Christmas, large enough for all of you to live in if you wish.”

  Before beginning, Sam helped Maeve back to their cabin. “Can you believe it?” he asked.

  “No, but it’s wonderful. You’ll get your dream, Sam. This is only the beginning.”

  He drew her into an embrace. Looking into her eyes, he brushed the loose strand of hair from her cheek. “I already have my dream.”

  Epilogue

  October 1943

  “Happy day after our anniversary, Sweetheart.” Sam snuck behind his wife and spun her around to face him. Seventy-four years old and he was still spry as a fox.

  “Oh, you!” Maeve laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d seen her trying to move her trunk at the train station. Her red hair remained, never fading into a gray. Lines spidered out from her eyes and around her mouth, but she wore them with grace. “I was making us some coffee to have on our date and some to leave for Pa.”

  His father-in-law had moved to Wyoming thirty-five years ago to be with his children, all of whom had moved, one by one, out west. Next month he would celebrate his one-hundredth birthday and lived in his own suite of the Holden house after reluctantly giving up his own home a decade ago when the upkeep became too much.

  “You better hurry.” He winked. “And turn off all these lights or it won’t be the same.” The house had been wired for electricity some ten years ago, but there were times he missed the old days of candlelight and lanterns.

  “Out with you.” Maeve pushed him toward the door, her own face lit with a smile. “I’ll be out in just a minute.”

  Feeling young again, he swept her off her feet, and she squealed with surprise. “Coffee can wait.” He carried her outside and set her down beside the porch swing that was an anniversary gift twenty years ago from their children.

  They sat down, snuggled into each other. As they had for the last fifty years on the day after their anniversary, and many days in between, they watched the sunrise take the earth from the solitude of darkness to the illuminating light of day.

  Even after the day had begun, they remained, their hearts and minds heavy.

  “Are you thinking about Jack?” Sam hated to bring up the subject of their long-deceased first born on this day, but he sensed Maeve’s thoughts and knew she needed to talk about him.

  “I miss him. Even now, so many years later, I still remember the day he was born, and the day he left for the Army.”

  “He was a good man. His legacy lives on.”

  Maeve’s smile was bittersweet. “Yes, it does.”

  Jack’s son, Jack Jr., was only a few months old when his father died in the Great War. Now Jack Jr., who’d inherited his father’s belief that all men and woman were created equal, was one of the youngest members of the state legislature, campaigning for laws of justice.

  “I’d hoped after that war, we’d never seen another like it.” Sam often wondered what the world was coming to, now that it was embattled in another large scale war. He worried about his grandchildren, several of whom were currently fighting overseas. He found solace in the fact they were strong men and women with a deep sense of personal honor and integrity.

  “Me too. I often worry about the generations to come, but then I remind myself that they will survive. I look back at everything we have overcome and at the generations before us and the generations before them. Each one has stepped forward and conquered their battles.” Maeve leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “We’ve seen a lot in our years, haven’t we?” He stroked his wife’s hair, relishing its softness.

  “There were times of sorrow, but most of our years have been wonderful. I didn't think when I boarded that train to come west that I ever could have envisioned the life we’ve had.”

  Sam looked out. For as far as the eye could see was Holden land stretched out along the plains. It was a legacy to be passed down to his children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews. Over the years, he’d achieved his dream of returning the ranch to what it had once been and then kept going until it was the third largest operation in the state. He looked down at Maeve, the wife he’d been blessed with for fifty years, and Lord willing many more. Without her, he’d never have succeeded as he had. She was his everything. “Have you ever regretted it?”

  She tilted her head slightly to look up at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Never, not even for a minute.”

  Winds of Change

  Brides of Weatherton Three

  Now Available Here

  Patrick Holden was a good-for-nothing scoundrel, taking what he wanted without regards to anyone else. At least he had been, until a few months ago, when fate
dealt him the blow he’d been tempting.

  Candace Tibbet lived alone with her neglectful father, and when Patrick showed her the merest of affections, she gave him attention, if only to feel loved for a brief moment.

  Neither expected a kiss to land them in front of a judge, forced to participate in a wedding they didn't want. Then, only months into their marriage, a fire left Candace physically scarred for life.

  Patrick was consumed with guilt. Candace feared she’ll never be loved.

  When given the opportunity to walk away from their marriage with no strings attached, will love become the greatest complication of all?

  Note from the Author

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for spending your time with Sam and Maeve. I enjoyed spending the last few months with them as their story unfolded. What did you think of Patrick? He is sure a mess, but he’s trying so hard to change. Will the power of redemption and forgiveness be enough to get him through the rough times ahead? You can read his story in the third Brides of Weatherton story, which will release in the spring of 2015.

  As I typed that, I can’t believe that another year is ending! 2014 has been an amazing year with so many blessings. Much of that is due to you, the reader, who continue to enjoy stories of faith, love, and old-fashioned values. I’ve been completely overwhelmed by the response to After the Rain and Come to Me Alive, and continue to be honored that God has allowed me this awesome opportunity. If you have enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a positive review on Amazon, as this is a tremendous help to authors.

  On a final note, I would love to hear your own stories if inspiration to feature on a new page of my website called, From the Heart. If you have any story to share, no matter how large or small, that you think would inspire someone, please contact me.

  Have a wonderful and prosperous New Year!

  Until next time,

  Leah

  Connect with Me:

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  Email: authorleahatwood@gmail.com

  Other Titles from Leah Atwood

  Contemporary Romance Novels

  Come to Me Alive

  Come to Me Free

  Come to Me Again

  Come to Me Joyful (Bonus NOVELLA)

  Brides of Weatherton Novellas

  After the Rain

  Fire and Ice

  Winds of Change

  Whiter than Snow

  Dancing on Dew (December 2015)

  Texas Wildflowers Novelette Series

  Free to Love

  Free to Heal

  Free to Protect

  Free to Serve

  Free to Roam

  Free to Forgive

  Mail-Order Short Stories and Novelettes

  The Ultimatum Bride

  A Man to Be Proud Of

  Their First Noelle

  The Not Quite Mail-Order Bride

  The Mail-Order Bride’s Quilt

  Riches of the Heart

  Unlikely Substitute

  The Most Wonderful Bride of the Year

  Excerpt from Come to Me Alive

  Leah’s First Contemporary Christian Romance Now Available on Amazon

  Chapter 1:

  “Watch out!”

  Interrupted from her reading, Sophie Thatcher looked up to see a crazed duck with a bright red beak heading straight toward her. She dropped the latest Gwendolyn Gwen romance novel to the ground, jumped and ran, with no destination in mind except to escape the mad waterfowl. The duck continued after her, relentless in its pursuit. Who knew a duck was able to move with such speed?

  The man who’d called out the warning ran up behind her, swinging a clear bag of… bread? The duck retreated, opting to chase food instead of her. She leaned over and tried to catch her breath, her heart beating at an erratic pace. Maybe this was a sign she should exercise on a regular basis. Or it could be it wasn’t the exertion as much her body’s reaction to the duck’s pursuit.

  “Are you okay, miss?” The man with a plastic bag approached her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault,” she managed to say through short, choppy breaths. Returning to an upright position, she got her first good look at the man who’d called the warning. He was attractive, even if not her type. He looked to be around her age, or possibly a few years older. Short brown hair matched deep chocolate-hued eyes, which were framed with eyelashes long enough to make any girl jealous. Rugged stubble lined his jaw. A slate blue t-shirt covered a muscular upper body, and she thought she saw a tattoo peeking out from under its sleeve. She didn’t stare long enough to be sure.

  His chest shook, and he clamped his lips shut. He looked as if he were torn between being horrified or wanting to burst out laughing.

  “Actually, it is.” He flashed a smile full of a sheepish charm. “My daughter and I were feeding the ducks and the rogue one got mad when the others took all the food. Next thing I know, he started running straight toward you.”

  Her cheeks hurt from holding back her own laughter. She gave up trying and soon the stranger joined her as a little girl walked their way.

  “What’s so funny, Daddy?” The little girl tugged on the man’s jeans.

  “Nothing, sweetheart.”

  “Can we finish feeding the ducks now?”

  “I think the ducks are full. How about we swing for a little while before going back to Gram’s house.”

  “Okay,” agreed the young girl, with a cheerful temperament.

  Sophie wiped away a tear from laughing. “Thanks for the rescue.” She began walking back to the tree where she’d discarded her book.

  “Least I could do,” he called out, in a deep, melodious voice that set her skin tingling.

  Stop it, Sophie. He had a daughter, which meant a good chance existed that he was married, which meant she had no business thinking about the silkiness of his voice, or the cute factor earned by bringing his daughter to the park.

  Her phone buzzed and sang Come to Me Alive, the latest hit from country music star, Bryce Landry. A glance at the screen told her it was an unknown number. Probably a telemarketer. She hit “ignore” and replaced the phone to her pocket.

  “You’re a Bryce fan?”

  Startled, she jumped and looked behind her. The man was following her.

  She shoved one hand in a side pocket of her shorts. “This song at least. I’m not too familiar with his other music, but the lyrics are beautiful and came to me when I needed them after a breakup.” Good grief, Soph. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. She never spilled her thoughts to a stranger, especially not to a male.

  “Sorry to hear. About the breakup, not the song.” He rocked on his heels but maintained eye contact.

  She shrugged, giving off the impression the breakup was no longer a big deal. “It was for the best; I see that now.”

  Partially because of the song, Come to Me Alive. When she’d first heard the song on the radio two weeks ago, she’d immediately looked it up, and downloaded it as her ringtone. The lyrics and music combined into a beautiful ballad, touching her in a way that made the breakup with Ryan make sense.

  Ryan. They’d dated for three years, since the summer before their senior year of college. Last month, he’d broken off their relationship, just when she had thought they were heading toward an engagement.

  “I’ll always love you as a friend,” he’d said, “but I don’t feel any passion between us. Staying together wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

  His words still stung, yet they were true. Especially after listening to the lyrics of Come to Me Alive. Was a relationship that didn’t invigorate the right one? With Ryan, she’d been coasting, along for the ride but never looking out the window to enjoy the trip.

  “Most of the time, life doesn’t turn out how we plan, does it?” The stranger glanced to his daughter, a peculiar expression crossing his face. “The funny thing is, in hindsight, you
can see God’s hand in every moment.”

  His words stopped Sophie in her tracks from where she had started back toward the tree again. “You’re a Christian?”

  “I’m approaching my one year birthday.”

  A smile curled her lips. “Congratulations.” Stranger or not, he was a brother in Christ. She looked at her watch. “Yikes. I’m going to be late for my tutoring session.”

  “You tutor?”

  “During the summer and as needed throughout the school year.”

  “Let me guess— you’re a kindergarten teacher.”

  “First grade,” she corrected.

  “I was close. Gracie will be in kindergarten this year.”

  “I’m five,” the cherubic girl piped up.

  She stooped down, putting herself eye-level with Gracie. “Five is a very special age. You’ll love kindergarten.”

  “Mommy was a teacher too, but she’s in Heaven now.” The little girl spoke the words with the innocence of a child, but they broke Sophie’s heart.

  “Her mom died last year.” Gracie’s still-nameless dad offered the information that she had been wondering, although it wasn’t her business.

  “I’m sorry,” she told the man, unsure what the appropriate response was. She glanced at her watch. “I really have to go. Have a good day and stay away from the ducks,” she added before laughing with a nervous edge.

  Something about the incident unsettled her in an indescribable way. With a turn of her feet, she hurried to her economic-but-reliable sedan.

  “Wait,” the stranger called as she buckled her seatbelt. “You forgot something.”

  He ran toward her car, pulling his daughter along in one hand and holding Sophie’s book in the other. Either he was very thoughtful or a psycho. Intuition told her the former was the truth.

  “Thanks.” She took the book from him; his hand lingered on the cover.