“Oh, I doubt that, but I’m so glad that you were able to come tonight, Ginny.” Grace had told her about the confrontation she’d had with Robert yesterday, and she knew from her friend’s look that Ginny was surprised to see her with him. “I’ll have to talk with you later,” Grace whispered to Ginny, who nodded with interest.
“We wouldn’t miss the ball,” Frank commented, then leaned over to Grace’s ear. “I’m still so sorry for what happened with Warren. Both Virginia and I feel responsible for pushing him toward you. For that I’m deeply regretful.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Grace answered, shaking her head.
“In that case, would you like to dance?” Frank held out his hand to her.
Grace glanced at Ginny, who nodded, and then to Robert, who also agreed. “Yes, yes, I would.”
After the dance with Frank, she agreed to dance with another gentleman who was one of the local druggists. As she listened to his labored breathing and endured his sweaty palms while they danced, her eyes swept back to where Robert stood talking with Ginny while they drank their punch.
“Want to dance the next one with me?” the man holding her hand asked.
“If you don’t mind, I need to go check on my father.”
The druggist bowed slightly. “As you wish.”
Robert scurried across the floor to rescue her.
“Oh, thank heavens! I don’t know how much more I could’ve endured.” She giggled as he took her hand.
“You won’t have to again. I’m here to see to that. I didn’t think you could ever look any more beautiful than you did before, but tonight, you do.”
It was hard to focus on his face through the tears blurring her vision. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt carefree. Robert took his handkerchief from his pocket, gently dabbing her tears.
“Shall we dance?”
Epilogue
September trees dotting the foothills with their beginning hint of color announced fall’s arrival. Grace and Robert stood leaning against the fence, their arms draped across its top rail, lost in the companionable silence of the afternoon. School was already in session, but the quiet wouldn’t last long.
Grace enjoyed this view of her farm, the curling smoke from the chimney, the freshly plowed fields, sunflowers nodding, cows grazing lazily, and a large stack of cut wood by the corner of the house, thanks to Robert. All of this, plus the music of the birds’ tweets, comforted her soul.
Robert slipped his arm about her waist and gave it a squeeze. “We couldn’t ask for a more perfect day,” he commented.
“It’s my favorite time of year—the cool snap—a fire in the grate—cozy blankets and wraps—with school programs coming up and apples to pick. We have so much in our lives to be grateful for, don’t you think?”
“Yes, we do, Grace. We’ve come through a lot this year. With your help the children have fared well, and I believe the future looks bright.”
She turned to look up at him. “I hope so.”
Bluebelle came waddling down the lane into their view, her baby ducks following in a neat line with Paddy bringing up the rear.
“I think they have the right idea—a family, don’t you?” he asked, reaching inside his vest pocket.
Grace wasn’t sure what he meant until he lifted her left hand. Am I dreaming? A thrill shot through her, and her jaw dropped as she watched him.
“This was my mother’s pearl ring. I . . . Grace, I’d be honored if you’d marry me, and wear this ring showing the commitment of our love. Then we can become a real family.”
“Oh, yes, Robert, I will,” she murmured, looking down at the pearl ring as he slipped it on her finger. She quickly looped her arms around his neck, kissing him with longing and intensity. “Now, you have to make me that soufflé that you’ve bragged about,” she teased, and he laughed heartily.
“I promise,” he answered, stroking the side of her face with his thumb.
Suddenly a ruckus came from the chokeberry bush behind them. Turning around, they saw Tom, Becky, and Sarah emerge and shout, “Hooray!” The children rushed to Grace and Robert, and they all became a huddle of hugs, laughter, and tears.
“I told you the angel said my dream would come true.” Sarah proudly beamed up at the couple.
Grace kissed the top of her head. “No one can argue with that.”
Author’s Note
It’s no secret that I love the West and history, thus the reason I chose a Montana setting. Gallatin Valley was called “Valley of Flowers” by the Indians, owing to its many wildflowers. The Bridger Mountains and Gallatin Range surround the valley. The town nearest my heroine’s farm is Bozeman, named after the famous guide John Bozeman from Pickens County, Georgia. He was known for creating the historic Bozeman Trail, which shortened the distance from Omaha to the gold camps in the West. His was the first house built in Bozeman. I chose a location in the Gallatin Valley near the Gallatin River, named by Lewis and Clark. Montana became a territory in 1864. The movie A River Runs Through It was filmed in Bozeman.
Potatoes and beets were the principal vegetables grown in the Gallatin Valley during 1866, but a variety of other vegetables also grow in the lush valley’s rich soil. In pioneer times, potatoes were taken to either Helena or Virginia City and sold for thirteen cents a pound.
Sheriff John S. Mendenhall is a historical character who was the sheriff of Bozeman. Samuel Anderson, the school teacher, is a historical character, and William W. Alderson was a historic preacher and community leader at that time. He is noted for naming the town of Bozeman, Montana’s oldest city, in 1864.
The Bozeman Ball, Bozeman’s first big social event, was started in 1864 on Christmas Eve, but I took the liberty of moving it a few months forward for my story. The ball was held at the Stafford Hotel building. A log house known as the Masonic building was the meeting place for the church.
The Women’s Medical College in New York, where Stella attended, was a real college and was established in 1863.
The Swedish duck, Bluebelle, did not arrive in the US until 1884; however, I took the liberty of adding her to my story because of her grayish-blue color.
KatyKat was named after my beloved cat of nineteen years, and Amelia, our calico cat, lived until she was seventeen.
My husband suffers from a rare disease, chronic inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy (CIDP), which is the same disease my heroine’s father, Owen, contracts in the story. Little was known about the disease at the time it was first discovered by Robert Graves in 1843. They called it Multiple Neuritis then. In my research I found that some experts believe Franklin D. Roosevelt may have suffered from CIDP instead of polio. You can learn more about this debilitating disease at http://www.gbs-cidp.org.
Maggie Brendan is the CBA bestselling author of the Heart of the West series, the Blue Willow Brides series, and the Virtues and Vices of the Old West series. Her books have received the Book Buyers Best Award from the Orange County Chapter of Romance Writers of America and the Laurel Wreath Award. A member of the American Christian Fiction Writers Association, Romance Writers of America, Georgia Romance Writers, and Author’s Guild, Maggie lives in Georgia.
She invites you to connect with her at www.MaggieBrendan.com or www.southernbellewriter.blogspot.com. You can also find her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/maggiebrendan), Twitter (@MaggieBrendan), Pinterest (https://www.pinterest.com/maggiebrendan), Goodreads (https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1682579.Maggie_Brendan), and Instagram: https://instagram.com/maggiebrendan.
Books by Maggie Brendan
HEART OF THE WEST
No Place for a Lady
The Jewel of His Heart
A Love of Her Own
THE BLUE WILLOW BRIDES
Deeply Devoted
Twice Promised
Perfectly Matched
VIRTUES AND VICES OF THE OLD WEST
The Trouble with Patience
A Sweet Misfortune
Trusting Grace
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