by Lisa Norato
He took his steps two at a time. His son and father-in-law followed behind as Brogan dashed down the hallway to the closed double doors of the master bedroom. He would have thrown them open himself, but the latch turned and out stepped the midwife. Brogan saw only the blood on her apron. He could still hear a baby’s cry from inside.
“You may go in now, Captain, and meet your new son,” she said.
Drew plowed into the back of Brogan’s legs, where he came to an abrupt halt. “I have a brother?”
“Did I hear a son?” Nathaniel Huntley called as he joined them.
Brogan swept past the midwife and strode to the foot of his bed, taking in the scene.
The room was dimly lit and toasty warm. The newborn, thoroughly bundled and hidden from view in Mrs. Culliford’s arms, had quieted. In the bed, Lorena lay quiet and still amid a mound of quilts and blankets, and for a moment Brogan panicked.
Please, Lord. Her face looked so very pale, her eyelids heavily closed. If anything were to happen to her, if she had been injured …
They had been married before family, friends, and crew on the main deck of the Yankee Heart, which was anchored in Duxboro Bay and had been festooned for the ceremony. Afterward, a wedding breakfast had been served at his father-in-law’s house, but before that, more decorations and refreshments awaited in the great cabin, including a tall white wedding cake, studded with gilded almonds and adorned with flowers and laurel.
It had transpired on a Tuesday morning, nearly two years ago. The most extraordinary day of his life. Until today.
“Lorena?” he rasped.
Her eyes sprang open, arresting him in their intensity and flooding him with relief, until the infant’s gurgle drew her attention away. He followed the stare of her beautiful brown eyes to Mrs. Culliford, who stood by the fire cooing to the curious thing in her arms.
She smiled and his breath caught in his throat. His vision blurred.
“Would you like to see your son?”
Tears pricked at his eyes. Brogan walked over to her side of the bed, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I need to be assured that you are well, my love.”
She lifted a hand out to him from under the coverings, and he clutched it like a lifeline.
“I’m quite well. And very happy.” She motioned to Mrs. Culliford to bring her the babe. She gazed up at Brogan, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears, then turned to Drew and Mr. Huntley, who stood in the doorway. “I hope you all know how very much I love you.”
“If it is one-tenth of the love and gratitude we have for you, Lorena, then we are blessed indeed,” Brogan responded on behalf of them all.
“Look, Captain,” Mrs. Culliford urged, stepping forward with the bundle. “Look at your son. He is exceptionally beautiful, I daresay.”
Brogan drank in the sight as she approached and laid the newborn on the bed beside Lorena, then loosened the blankets. He saw a tiny red face, an amazing face with a thick crop of hair, gingery brown like his mother’s. Brogan gazed at Lorena, astonished.
As Drew and Mr. Huntley moved closer, he touched one of the babe’s hands. Brogan spread the miniature fingers and they curled around one of his own. His breath caught in his throat.
A tear slid down his cheek. He looked again at the babe, then back at Lorena. “Thank you.”
His wife smiled sweetly, and Brogan used his free arm to embrace Drew. This beautiful boy of seven years was also his son.
At seven years, Brogan had been a dirty, scrawny orphan on the run with nowhere to go, living off the streets. As a man, he now possessed the means and wealth to assure his children would be afforded every opportunity he’d been denied. Not only that, but this incredible woman, his wife, had borne him a flesh-and-blood son. Though he’d not love this new child any more or less, it felt good to know his blood was bonded to a family. His family.
With thanks and glory to God, Brogan took stock of these and all his blessings, which at the moment seemed too numerous to count.
He took Lorena’s hand in his, unable to believe what treasure he beheld. A prize indeed.
Acknowledgments
Although writing is a lonely pursuit, in reality, Prize of My Heart would not be here today without some very special folks who have seen me through the journeys of both writing and publishing.
For the inspiration and creativity I know comes from Him, to God be the glory.
Special thanks to my family, Carrie, Dick, Cheryl and Chaka, Rich and Karen Norato, for their love and encouragement.
Thanks to Lisa Diaz for her friendship and prayers across the miles and over the years, to my brainstorming buddies Annette Blair and Jeanine Spikes, to Amy Stratton for giving the manuscript a final read, and to Dante Giammarco for research help and support during the workweek. To all, thanks for your continuing encouragement.
Thanks to my agent, Mary Sue Seymour, for her faith in me and for handling my career with class and understanding.
Thanks to everyone at Bethany House for all the creative and marketing input that has gone into making Prize of My Heart a publishing reality, especially editors David Long and Luke Hinrichs—two considerate and creative gentlemen I feel blessed to be working with.
A lifelong New Englander, Lisa Norato lives in a historic village with homes and churches dating as far back as the eighteenth century. She balances writing with a career as a legal assistant specializing in corporate law. When not writing, she enjoys precious time with family and her dog, cooking, reading and television, especially British comedy and historical dramas. You can visit Lisa’s website at www.lisanorato.com or follow her on Facebook.
Books by Lisa Norato
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From Bethany House Publishers
Prize of My Heart
Also by Lisa Norato
Where Eagles Fly
I Only Want to Be with You
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
Website: www.bethanyhouse.com
Facebook: Bethany House
