by Nerys Leigh
“Are you feeling okay now?” Zach whispered.
She raised her face and smiled so wide it hurt her cheeks. “I’ve never felt better.”
He laughed softly at her grin. “Think you’re up to seeing the new foal? Misty will have cleaned him up by now. I promise you’ll think he’s adorable.”
Her smile would have grown if it wasn’t already as wide as it could get. “I’d love to.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and they headed for the livery door.
“By the way,” she said, “I should probably admit at this point that I can barely cook.”
He glanced down at her and smiled. “We’ll muddle through our meals together.”
She recalled a magazine article she’d once read on the essential skills every new bride should have. “And I’m terrible at sewing.”
“We’ll manage somehow.”
“And I don’t have the slightest idea how to embroider.”
“Oh, well, in that case the marriage is off.”
Chapter 38
Zach married Jo three days later. He figured he’d better make it quick, in case she changed her mind.
She said she wasn’t interested in anything fancy for the wedding and, when she asked him about it, he said, “As long as I leave that church with you as my wife, I don’t mind how it’s done.” To his relief, she smiled at that.
So they had a simple service surrounded by those closest to them, followed by a celebration in the hotel dining room with plenty of Mrs. Sanchez’s delicious Mexican dishes.
When it was all over, Zach walked the short distance to his house arm in arm with his new wife, filled with joy, gratitude, and not a few nerves at the prospect of their first night together.
Before meeting Jo, he’d always assumed he would marry a girl as inexperienced as he was, not a beautiful, worldly woman four years his senior. His one youthful experience had hardly prepared him for this. But he knew love was more important to her than anything. He certainly had plenty of that to offer.
He opened the door when they reached his house and, as she moved to go inside, bent to scoop her into his arms. She squeaked in surprise and then laughed. He hadn’t done it to get a kiss, but he didn’t object at all when she wound her arms around his neck and gave him one.
“Welcome to your home,” he said when their lips parted. “Our home.”
He’d spent much of the run-up to the wedding scrubbing his house from top to bottom, with the help of his father. Not that he didn’t clean otherwise, but there were always nooks and crannies that somehow got overlooked. He was sure the previous three days had seen the removal of dirt older than he was. But it was now a place he was proud to bring his new wife.
He carried her across the threshold and came to a halt, staring at the wall across the room in astonishment. That hadn’t been here when he’d left earlier that afternoon.
Jo smiled as he put her down. “What do you think?”
“Is that what you’ve been working on?”
“It is. Your father hung it for me while we were at the hotel.”
“I...” He shook his head slowly, unable to tear his eyes away. “I don’t know what to say.”
He walked up to the portrait of a man with flaming red hair sitting astride a rearing grey horse, both of them bathed in the glow of the setting sun behind him.
A smile spread across his face. “It’s awesome!”
Her hand slipped into his. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I don’t just like it, I love it! You’re so incredibly talented to have captured my dashing, heroic essence. So I guess this is how you see me - your handsome, valiant hero riding to your rescue?”
A smile flitted across her face before it was quashed. “Where are you getting that? All I painted was you on Misty.”
Oh yes, she definitely saw him like that.
He slid his arms around her waist. “Uh huh.”
“Any heroic touches are purely in your own imagination.”
Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the smooth skin below her left ear. “Of course they are.”
She tilted her head, sighing as he trailed a line of soft kisses down her neck. “You’re delusional.”
“Of course I am. Delusional.” All nerves forgotten, he pulled her against him and brushed his nose against hers. “Nothing heroic about that painting at all.”
“Nothing whatsoever,” she murmured, tangling her fingers in his hair and bringing her lips to his.
Chapter 39
Six months later.
Jo’s teeth clenched together so hard they ached. Not that she really noticed.
She slumped back onto the bed as the wave of pain passed. How much more of this could she endure?
“Not long now,” Mrs. Wallace announced.
Jo wanted to slap her. She’d been saying that for the past hour or more.
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
Mrs. Wallace frowned at her. “There’s no need to take that tone with me. Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time. I’ve had five of my own and I barely even slowed down until they were on their way out.”
Jo glared at her back when she turned away. Mrs. Wallace had probably just ordered each of her kids to be born and they’d popped out immediately, not daring to disobey. If only Mrs. Wilson hadn’t had to leave for a family emergency, forcing the previous town midwife temporarily out of retirement.
Another contraction clawed at her and she gripped the bed sheets, a whimper escaping her tightly shut lips. She’d barely had a minute of rest between the last two.
That was it. She’d had enough of going through this with only the crotchety Mrs. Wallace for comfort. “Get my husband. Please.”
Mrs. Wallace looked as though Jo had asked for the entire town to come in and watch. “The birth of a child is no place for a man.”
“Please!” Jo grunted, squeezing her eyes shut as wave after wave of agony swept through her abdomen.
“Absolutely not.”
Gritting her teeth, Jo beckoned to her, gasping as if she couldn’t get the words out. When Mrs. Wallace leaned down, she grabbed the front of her dress and jerked her close.
“If you don’t get Zach in here right now, I will start a rumour that you’ve gone senile and forgotten how to birth a child.”
Mrs. Wallace’s eyes narrowed, although Jo didn’t fail to see the spark of fear behind them. “They won’t believe it. Folks round here trust me.”
“I can be very convincing.”
Proof of that came when Mrs. Wallace tugged free of her grip and straightened. “Fine.”
Jo wouldn’t have followed through with the threat. She didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. But it was reassuring to know she hadn’t lost her touch, not to mention mildly satisfying to know she’d rattled the ornery midwife.
Zach walked in from the living room and rushed to Jo’s side, dropping to his knees beside the bed and grasping her hand. “Are you all right?”
With him there, her stoicism fled. “I’m scared. It hurts.”
He touched his palm to her cheek. “What can I do?”
“Stay with me.”
Leaning forward, he touched his forehead to hers. “Always.”
She enjoyed their closeness for a good five seconds before another contraction interrupted the moment. He grimaced as she clutched his hand but to his credit, only whimpered a little.
By the time the baby finally left her body, she’d mentally called Clive every insult she could think of and clawed his eyes out in her imagination repeatedly. But the moment she heard the cry of her child, all her anger melted away.
“Well, no mistaking who the father of this little girl is,” Mrs. Wallace declared, leaning down to place the bundle into her arms.
She gave Jo a pointed look but said nothing else. Everyone suspected the baby probably wasn’t Zach’s, it being only six months since they’d married and not much more than seven since she’d arrived in the town, but
no one said anything to their faces. Zach wouldn’t have stood for it if they had.
Jo gently pushed aside the swaddling to reveal a pink, wrinkled face topped by a mess of bright red hair. The tiny girl was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Zach stared at her in astonishment before glancing at Mrs. Wallace who was across the room with her back to them.
Leaning close to Jo, he whispered, “How?”
A memory came to her. “My mother once mentioned her grandmother had the reddest hair she’d ever seen. I guess it skipped a couple of generations.” How fitting it was that the colour should have reasserted itself now. She pushed the bundle towards him. “Would you like to hold her?”
He drew the baby into his arms. The moment he gazed into her tiny face, she opened her eyes and blinked sleepily.
He whispered, “Thank You, Father,” then smiled at his daughter. “Hey, little one. I’m your pa and I love you so much. Your mama and I are going to look after you and protect you and make you the happiest, most loved little girl in the whole world.” He chuckled softly. “And wild horses couldn’t drag me away from you.”
“Wild horses?” Jo said.
“Just something my pa told me. He said that when he first got me into his arms, wild horses couldn’t have dragged him away from me. I wasn’t sure if that would happen to me, with things being as they are.” He glanced at Mrs. Wallace. “You know.”
“And now?” She held her breath to hear the answer.
He smiled, gazing into their daughter’s perfect little face. “And now I know exactly how he felt.” He pressed a soft kiss to her tiny forehead. “I’m not sure I’m even going to give her back to you.”
“Well, it’ll be interesting to see how you try to feed her.”
Laughing, he knelt beside the bed and laid their little girl between them. “Maybe I’ll let you have her some of the time.” Wrapping his arm around both of them, he leaned over to kiss Jo’s forehead. “I don’t think I could have done what you just did.”
“Of course you couldn’t have done what she just did.” Mrs. Wallace stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head as of it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “I’d like to see a man give birth. We’d never hear the end of all the complaining and carrying on. The good Lord knew what He was doing when he gave women the task of bringing babies into this world.”
“After what I just saw, I completely agree with you.” He smiled at Jo. “I am beyond proud of my wife. I love her with all my heart.”
Through the mist of tears in her own eyes at his words, Jo was shocked to see Mrs. Wallace’s permanently stern expression soften. The woman even almost smiled.
And then the moment was gone.
“Since you insisted on being in here, you can help me clean up,” she said, waving a brusque hand at Zach.
He kissed Jo tenderly, touched their daughter’s cheek for a moment, and rose to his feet. “Yes, ma’am.”
When everything was done and he’d seen Mrs. Wallace out, Zach returned to the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and climbed into bed beside Jo.
He wrapped one arm around her and the baby and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Resting her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. She felt like she could sleep for a week.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am right now.”
Hearing his voice catch, she opened her eyes and was surprised to see his eyes shimmering with tears. He smiled and gently touched their sleeping daughter cradled between them, his hand covering almost her entire tiny body.
“I can’t believe how much I love her.” He was silent for a while. “Do you think folks will think she’s mine, with her hair and all? That she was just born early?”
That very thing had occurred to her. “It’s possible, I suppose. But then they’d have to think that you and I were intimate before we were married. They might even wonder if we were together while I was still married to Gabriel. I wouldn’t want them thinking that about you.”
He stroked his thumb gently across their daughter’s cheek. “All the people that matter know the truth, but for her sake, I want everyone else to believe she’s mine. We’ll tell her when she’s old enough to understand, and we’ll go to the judge and make sure it’s all legal that I’m her father, like we planned. But no one else needs to know.”
Blinking back tears, Jo thanked God once again for blessing her so much. “You’re already the best father in the world. Nothing will ever change that.”
He rested his cheek against her hair. “I’m so glad I got to see her being born.” He lifted his hand and waggled his fingers. “And I’m sure my bones will heal, eventually.”
She pressed her face into his shoulder, giggling.
“I’m serious,” he said, “you have a grip like iron.”
She couldn’t stop laughing.
“Next time I have a jar needs opening, I’m coming to you.”
Chapter 40
“Jo and Zach, would you bring our guest of honour up here?”
Butterflies swirled around Jo’s stomach as she stood, and she sent up a silent prayer for strength. This was it, the final test of whether she and her daughter had been accepted by the townsfolk of Green Hill Creek. Even if they assumed Zach was her real father, like he wanted, they all still knew she’d been conceived out of wedlock. The question was, would that matter?
She glanced up at Zach beside her and he gave her a reassuring smile, shifting their slumbering baby daughter into the crook of his arm and taking her hand.
“They’ll be fine,” he’d said the previous evening. “And anyone who’s not can answer to me and my pa.”
But she was still nervous, not so much for herself, but for her daughter. Jo would do anything to make sure she wasn’t judged for something she had no control over. Something that was Jo’s fault.
She followed Zach up onto the platform at the front of the church where Pastor Jones stood beside a table topped with a white cloth and a bowl of water. He smiled warmly at them, more reassurance.
He and Mrs. Jones had known since Jo and Zach were married that she was pregnant and he wasn’t the father. She and Zach had told them the whole story. Louisa and Amy had both assured her the Pastor was a good man, filled with the love of God, and they’d been right. He and his wife hadn’t made Jo feel sinful or judged in the slightest.
The rest of the town, however, she wasn’t so sure about.
She looked out over the congregation. She knew all of them, was friends with many, part of the community she’d come to regard as home more than anywhere else she’d ever lived.
Hiram Henry sat near to the back, waving when her gazed reached him. His church attendance was sporadic at best, but he’d told her he wouldn’t miss today for the world. He’d even arrived on time.
George sat right at the front. Over the months, Jo had come to love him as if he was her own father. In all the ways that mattered, he was. Beside him sat Millie and their faces were filled with love as they glanced at each other. With it being only two months since their own marriage, they were still more or less newlyweds, and acted like it, to Zach’s amusing embarrassment.
Finally, Jo’s gaze came to rest on her closest friends. They were at the front, of course, their smiling faces helping to ease her nerves.
Amy and Adam sat hand in hand, as they always did. Daniel whispered something to Sara and she smiled, touching her hand to her swelling belly. Jesse was in his usual place at the end of the front pew with Louisa beside him. The previous day, a letter had arrived from Lizzy, gushing with excitement over the new baby she hoped to meet one day, and telling Jo all the latest news about her and Elijah.
All five of the mail order brides who’d arrived together had found happiness, not necessarily how they thought they would, but in the best way possible for each of them. And none more so than Jo, at least from her perspective. She was pretty sure no one could be happier than she was with he
r little family.
“I hope you all enjoyed today’s sermon about Jesus welcoming the little children,” Pastor Jones said. “If you didn’t, see me afterwards.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd.
He held out his hands and Zach passed their daughter to him, stroking her cheek when she began to fuss. She immediately quietened again.
“I remember standing right on this spot just about twenty-four years ago,” the pastor went on, “holding a baby boy with very red hair and very robust lungs who didn’t appreciate me making his forehead wet at all. And so it makes me very proud to be here today, doing the same for his daughter. Who, I have to say, is far better behaved than her father was.”
There was more laughter from the congregation and Jo tried to imagine Zach as a baby, screaming his objections at the top of his voice. The image made her smile.
Pastor Jones looked around at all of them. “The circumstances that lead to Zach and Jo and their daughter coming together aren’t important. What matters is that this little girl has been born into the most loving of families who, I have no doubt at all, will raise her in the knowledge and love of the Lord Jesus Christ.”
He looked at them and they both nodded their agreement. Jo had already taken to singing her to sleep with hymns, and Zach had bought her her own Bible before she was even born.
Pastor Jones moved to the table and dipped his fingertips into the bowl of water. “So it is with great pleasure that I welcome you, Emily Clementine Parsons, into the family of God, and baptise you in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
He touched his fingers to her forehead, tracing the shape of the cross, and she opened her eyes. For a moment, Jo thought she was going to follow her father’s example, but she simply closed her eyes again and went back to sleep.
Using the cloth, the pastor dabbed the water from Emily’s forehead. “And now...”
Louisa suddenly leaped up from her place in the front row, her hand clamped over her mouth, and fled along the aisle to the door.
