by SpursFanatic
Yet, the scent overpowered them. How could that be?
“I met your mother.”
Tarin’s heart stilled as her eyes shot to Rafe. His face showed no signs of humor or malice, his solemn brown eyes shining with confidence.
Was he ill? Had their lovemaking been too much for him? Perhaps his comatose state had caused his mind to falter.
Searching his eyes, Tarin unconsciously squeezed the pouch in her hand. “Rafe, you know my mother is dead.”
Sitting up in bed, Rafe grabbed her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “On the contrary, she lives, Tarin. In heaven. I saw her earlier today.”
Now it was her body that stilled, while her heart beat in triple time. “What? What are you saying?”
Somehow, his warm smile eased her fear. It made no sense, but she calmed, nonetheless.
“I know this will be hard for you to believe, sweetheart, but… I died today.”
“No!”
Leaning forward, Rafe kissed her gently on the cheek. “I did. He came for me - it was my time. But, your mother intervened, asking that He allow me to live so I could be with you. He agreed.”
Shaking her head in bewilderment, Tarin could only stare, wide-eyed, as she studied Rafe from head to toe. The doctors had said he would die, it was only a matter of time. The wounds -
Grabbing him by the shoulder, she turned his body to see the wounds on his back.
She gasped. They were practically healed.
How could that be, if not a miracle from above?
Glancing back at his face, Rafe gave her another I-told-you-so grin.
“She has been with me since Texas, Tarin. She was with me the night this -” he gave a quick nod at his scarred torso - “happened, and every night since. Haven’t you smelled the roses when we are together?”
The roses? Opening her palm, Tarin glanced down at the pouch. The sweet scent wafted up to her nose.
“She chose me, Tarin. For you.”
The logical side of her brain said she was mad for believing him. Yet, it all made sense - the scent, the healed scars, Rafe’s rapid recovery.
Her mother had told her to live her life for herself and to marry for love.
With Rafe, she had married for love, and she had a man that supported her desire to become a physician.
Her mother may not have been with her, but she had made Tarin’s dreams come true.
With tears in her eyes, Tarin threw her arms around Rafe’s neck and held him close. “I love you, Rafe Sutherland.”
Rafe held her against him. “And I adore you, Lady Sutherland.” Taking the pouch in her hand, Tarin watched as Rafe removed the object inside.
Tarin gasped. “My mother’s wedding ring!”
She had not seen it since the day her mother died, assuming it had been buried with her.
He slid the ring on the third finger of her left hand. “Your father asked me to present it to you at our wedding.” He grinned. “I hadn’t planned on getting married in a hospital.”
The ring felt heavy on her hand. Just one of many changes she would have to get used to.
Pushing Rafe back on the bed, she climbed on top of him and gave him a deep kiss. “And I had not planned on spending this night in your bed. Nevertheless, here we are, as husband and wife. Let us make the best of it.”
Epilogue
November 1, 1848
“Tarin!” Rafe yelled up the stairs, “If you don’t hurry, you are going to be late.”
Rafe looked over at Patrick and Rosa who were also patiently waiting for his beautiful wife to descend. Rosa had come a long way in her English instruction and had earned a place in the first midwifery class with Tarin and Kit. She had not had a problem getting ready on time.
Then again, Rosa wasn’t pregnant.
Rafe paced the foyer again. Tarin had not yet told him she was pregnant, but all of the signs were there – the morning sickness, the body changes, the exhaustion. If Rafe knew his wife at all, she feared he would make her drop the midwifery classes and stay home.
“I’m coming!” Tarin cried breathlessly, as she rushed down the stairs.
Rafe whipped his head around. “Slow down!”
Rosa and Patrick stared at him with round eyes. Dammit, he didn’t mean to shout. But, they didn’t know she was pregnant. Rafe would take no chances with Tarin or his child.
Her steps slowed as she reached his side. “Slow enough for you?” she asked, with a cheeky grin.
Rafe nodded as he took in the dark circles under her exotic green eyes. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But, she needed to rest.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and led him out the door.
“Oh, now you’re in a hurry.” He allowed Tarin to drag him behind her.
“You are going to make me late,” she joshed, glancing back at him with a sparkle in her eyes.
Patrick and Rosa laughed.
Once the four of them were settled in the carriage, Rafe signaled the driver to leave.
“Honestly, I am sorry, I am late,” Tarin announced, as she hooked her hand through Rafe’s arm. “I could not seem to wake this morn.”
“It is your first day of midwifery college,” Patrick replied. “I would’ve thought you’d be up at the crack of dawn.” He glanced at his new wife. “As it was, Rosa did not sleep at all.”
“You were not feeling well, meiha?” Rosa asked, with a frown.
“I’m fine.” Tarin glanced away, shaking her head. “Just a bit tired, is all.”
Rafe stared down at his wife’s guilty, flushed face. She had done her damndest to hide her morning sickness from everyone. But Rafe knew. Each morning, he heard her rush out of the bedroom and down the hall to the guest toilet room.
He had patiently waited for his lovely wife to come clean, but Rafe was out of patience now. He needed to make it clear to Tarin that he knew of her condition, and that she needed to be damned careful not to overextend herself with this college work.
“Are you done?” Rafe asked his wife.
She frowned up at him. “What?”
“Are you done hiding the fact that you are carrying our child?”
A collective gasp filled the carriage cab.
Tarin sat up straight. “How did you know?” she asked, punching him on the arm.
“You have been sick every morning. You fall asleep before I come to bed. And your –“ he glanced down at her bosom, “well, they have increased.”
She punched him again. “Rafe!”
Rosa and Patrick laughed before Patrick said, “Well damn, since the wedding, you two have spent every spare moment in your bedroom.”
“Patrick!” Tarin cried, turning to him with round eyes. “Not you, too!”
Laughing, Rafe asked her, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tarin looked down at her lap. “I didn’t want to fight with you over school.” Raising her eyes to his, she lifted her chin. “And, I wasn’t about to let this first set of classes pass me by.”
Rafe grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. God above, he loved her stubborn streak. “Did you really think I would keep you from these classes after you have been so instrumental to their inception?”
Her brows shot into her hairline. “Oh, Rafe,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a hard kiss on the mouth. “I do love you.”
Damn, he would never tire of hearing her say that. “Promise me you won’t overdo it.” He kissed her again.
Tarin lowered her arms and smiled at him. “Of course not. I would do nothing to jeopardize the health of our child.”
Rafe brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “And I would not jeopardize your health.”
Tarin grinned as she kissed him again.
“We are here,” Rosa proclaimed, as the carriage rolled to a stop. She squeezed Patrick’s hand.
“I cannot believe the day has finally arrived,” Tarin added, as she reached across and squeezed
Rosa’s hand, too.
“Tonight, we will celebrate,” Rafe announced, as he and Patrick ushered the women out of the carriage.
“Celebrate?” Kit asked, as she met them on the walk. The three women exchanged hugs.
“Si,” Rosa replied. “Tarin has finally admitted she is with child.”
“Finally!” Kit groaned good-naturedly.
“What?! Did everyone know and not admit it?” Tarin asked, hands on hips.
Everyone nodded – except Patrick. “I didn’t,” he said, with a shake of his head.
“You’re the only one, mi amor,” Rosa replied, kissing him on the cheek.
Rafe took Tarin’s hand in his and pulled her aside. “Here you are – starting the life you always wanted. Congratulations, sweetheart. You did it.”
She gave him a secret smile. “No, you are the life I want. This is an added benefit.”
His heart stirred. Damn, he was one lucky bastard. If they weren’t in public without a parasol, he’d kiss the living daylights out of her right now.
“We have to go, Tarin,” Kit said, as she and Rosa started towards the door.
Giving Rafe one quick peck on the cheek, she rushed to meet her friends.
Rafe sighed. There was always tonight – if she wasn’t too exhausted.
“Well, there they go,” Patrick said, as he came to stand beside Rafe, hands in his pockets, “our liberated women.”
Rafe nodded. “Yes. And, I wouldn’t have Tarin any other way.”
#####
Later that morning, Rafe and Patrick were at their dock office when Beau walked in the door. “Gentlemen.”
“Well, look what the dogs dragged in,” Patrick teased, as he threw down his pen.
Rafe leaned back in his chair and gripped the arms. He could use a break. With Worthington’s “investment” in the company, they had been busier than ever. Once word got out that he and Tarin had married, they had tripled their customer base.
He studied Beau. Something wasn’t right. St. John had perspiration on his brow and looked as bad as Tarin after a bout of morning sickness.
“Did you get the women off safely this morning?” Beau asked, as he stopped in the middle of the room, hands on hips.
“We did,” Patrick replied with an easy smile. “We are celebrating tonight at supper.”
Beau nodded. “Very good. I –“
“Are you well, St. John?” Rafe interrupted, as he jumped up from his chair. His gut told him something was very wrong.
Beau stilled, his face going whiter than before.
Oh hell…
“I’m fine,” Beau replied, shaking his head when Patrick offered him a chair. “However, I would like to speak with the two of you a moment.”
Rafe frowned. This can’t be good. It wasn’t like Beau to act so formal with them.
“Confess, St. John.” Rafe crossed his arms over his chest. “What is wrong with you?”
Beau met Rafe’s eyes dead on. “Very well.” Clearing his throat, he said, “Sutherland, you are like a brother to me.” He looked to Patrick. “And you, Patrick, I consider a friend.”
Rafe gave him a brief nod. “We feel the same way, St. John.” He looked at Patrick, who nodded.
Beau took a deep breath. “In… that light…” He stopped and cleared his throat again.
Patrick stood and walked over beside Rafe. “Come on, St. John. Spit it out. What is it?”
“I…” Beau started, then shook his head.
“St. John!” Rafe cried, at his wits end with Beau’s hesitation. The Frenchman was always good with words.
“Dammit, Sutherland!” he cried, pacing back and forth in front of the door. “I’m trying to do this right.”
“What?!” the brothers cried in unison.
His face beet red, Beau stopped and shouted, “I’d like permission to court your mother, dammit!”
#####
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