“Me, too,” Jeremy murmured.
Jake. Nell had seen it, too, not in looks but in build. Travis Grant was a lumberjack of a man, just the way her beloved Jake had been. Sadly the children’s memories of their father had dimmed with time into vague recollections.
The family stood at the landing at the top of the stairs, where they exchanged good-night hugs and kisses. Even Jeremy let his mother and grandma kiss him tonight. Ruth guided the children to their bedrooms while Nell retrieved a candle for herself.
Once everyone was in bed, she undressed and put on a full-length white cotton nightgown. She unbraided her hair and brushed it out, the thick dark tresses reaching halfway down her back. Jake had loved her hair, had often gathered it in his huge hands and run it through his fingers. Nell missed those moments, missed everything about Jake.
Time, she’d discovered, was a great healer, just as Pastor McMillen had told her. The grief became duller, less acute, with every month and year that passed. But it was still there, always there. Now, though, her grief shared space with all the good memories, the happy moments they’d had together.
Nothing would ever erase those ten wonderful years she’d shared with the man she loved.
Setting her hairbrush aside, Nell pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. She leaned against the headboard, her back supported by two pillows, and opened the drawer in her nightstand. She took out a pen and her journal.
By the light of a single candle, she wrote down the events of the day, pausing now and then to collect her thoughts. When she’d finished, she reread what she’d written, something she rarely did, and was surprised to note she’d mentioned Travis Grant in the first line. It didn’t take her long to figure out why.
It was because he was like Jake and meeting him had shaken her. Not the first time on the road into town, when she’d stopped and read him the riot act, but later. It hadn’t hit her until they stood across from each other to make the bed. He was the same height as Jake.
Nell reached for the framed photograph of Jake taken on their wedding day. It was a rare shot of him without his Stetson. Fresh from the military, his hair had been cropped close. He looked strong, capable—and oddly vulnerable.
Her heart clenched as it always did when she studied the photograph, but the usual tears didn’t come.
“Good night, my love,” she whispered and placed the photograph back on her nightstand. As she did, Nell saw a light come on outside the window. Tossing the blankets aside, she peered out and noticed a bright even glow coming from the bunkhouse. The electricity was back on.
“I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER this is going to take,” Laredo Smith said as he reappeared to give another update on Savannah’s progress. He’d practically worn grooves in the carpet from the bedroom to the living room where the men had gathered. Rain continued to beat against the window and there were occasional flashes of lightning, although the storm had begun to let up.
Grady smiled indulgently at his brother-in-law, grateful that the electricity was back on. “Babies take as long as they take,” he said wisely. He reclined in the leather chair and laced his fingers behind his head, rather pleased with his insight.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Laredo snapped in a rare display of temper. “It’s not your wife in there giving birth to your child. Let’s see how calm you are when Caroline delivers.”
The grin faded from Grady’s face. Laredo had a point.
“Birthing babies is a whole lot different from bringing calves into the world,” Cal said. Grady’s best friend leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, then glanced at his watch.
Grady was surprised when he checked the time. It was already past midnight, and it could be hours more before Savannah’s baby was born. Not one of the assembled group showed any sign of being tired, much less leaving. Caroline and Jane were with Savannah, and his daughter was in bed upstairs. Six-year-old Maggie had tried to stay awake but fell asleep in his arms around ten.
Laredo had been with Savannah from the first but returned to the living room periodically to make his reports. Grady watched his brother-in-law with interest. Laredo was so pale he looked in danger of passing out.
“I had no idea it would be like this,” Laredo mumbled, ramming all ten fingers through his hair.
“That it’d take this long?” Grady asked.
Laredo vigorously shook his head. “No—that I’d feel this scared, this nervous. Savannah and I must’ve read ten books about pregnancy and birth, and I thought I was ready. Hell, man, I’ve been around horses and cattle all my life, but this is nothing like I expected.”
Those books were the very ones Grady and Caroline were reading now. His wife was two months pregnant. Grady had been walking on air from the moment she’d told him. He’d thought about the baby a lot, his excitement building as he watched his own sister’s pregnancy progress. He and Caroline had told only a few people, since she was months from showing.
To Grady, his wife had never looked more beautiful. Maggie was pleased and excited at the prospect of becoming a big sister. What Grady hadn’t considered was this strange emotion Laredo exhibited.
Fear.
He hadn’t thought of his child’s birth as a frightening event. He’d imagined himself a proud father, holding his infant son or daughter. He enjoyed the prospect of people making a fuss and giving their opinions on which parent the baby resembled. Friends would come to visit and it would be a time of celebration and joy.
But tonight Laredo had destroyed his illusions. In his imaginings, Grady had glossed over the actual birth. Until now. Beyond any doubt, he knew that when it was Caroline’s time to deliver their child, he’d be as bad as Laredo. Pacing, worrying, wondering. Praying.
“I’m going back in there,” Laredo announced as though he couldn’t bear to be away from Savannah a moment longer.
Grady stood, slapped his friend on the back to encourage him, then sank into his seat again.
“We’re going to be just like him, you know,” Cal said.
Grady nodded in agreement. “Worse, probably.”
Cal grinned. “When’s Caroline due?”
“The end of October.”
“You two certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?” Cal teased.
“Nope.” Their wedding had been the last week of October, and Caroline was pregnant by the first week of January. They’d hoped it would happen quickly, seeing as Grady was already well into his thirties and Maggie was going on seven. It made sense to start their family early.
As the wind howled, Cal looked out the window. “Why is it babies are always born during a storm?”
“It probably has something to do with barometric pressure.”
Cal scratched his head. “You think so?”
The hell if Grady knew, but it sounded good. The phone pealed in the kitchen and the two men stared at each other.
“It’s probably Glen and Ellie again,” Cal said.
Cal’s brother and his wife lived in town and would have been with them, Grady suspected, if not for the storm.
Grady answered the phone. “Nothing yet,” he said, instead of his usual greeting.
“Why didn’t anyone phone me?” Dovie Boyd Hennessey demanded. Dovie and Savannah had been close since the death of Savannah’s mother, Barbara, seven years earlier. Dovie owned and operated the antique shop, which sold everything from old scarves and jewelry to valuable china cups and saucers, all arranged around antique furnishings. The women in town loved to shop at Dovie’s; she was universally admired and treasured by the town.
“Savannah’s