Blessings of Love (The Belles of Wyoming Book 7) Page 6

  “How… long… does… this… go… on?” she panted, exhausted. Alex ran a cool rag over her forehead and her neck.

  “I know you are tired, but you are almost there. I am so proud of you right now, Carrie,” he said tenderly and leaned down to kiss her. Carrie felt his lips touch hers and couldn’t help the cry of happiness that escaped from her throat. She had only moments to relish this expression of love from him when another wave hit her. Her body felt like it was being rendered in half and she was screaming mindlessly. She was pushing and pushing, her cheeks ached, and she felt pressure in her eyes as she bore down so hard she was trembling. Another wave hit her almost immediately and she felt the burning pain once again.

  “She’s coming!” she screamed.

  Alex was right there and caught their child as she slipped into the world, screaming in outrage. Carrie flopped backwards on the bed limply as her body began to calm down from its intense ordeal. She was mindless with exhaustion and fatigue… and then heard the cries.

  Their child.

  Turning her head towards the sound of crying seemed to take supreme effort and she swore that she pulled a muscle in her neck at some point during the labor. Looking at Alex, he was now shirtless and their baby was wrapped in the material of it. He was crying unabashedly staring at Carrie and the baby in his arms.

  “She’s so beautiful.”

  “It’s a girl… I knew it,” she sighed happily, relieved to be done with the ordeal. “Thank you for helping me. I can take her now if you don’t want to be bothered.”

  “Carrie – I think we need to talk.” She was instantly wary and struggled to sit up in the bed. He sat down next to her, pulling her up against the headboard with one arm before handing the baby over to her. Carrie pulled back the fabric and stared down at her baby girl. She was breathtaking. Pink cherub-like cheeks that were red from exertion and crying. Ten, sweet, long fingers and ten, tiny toes. She had a little birthmark on her belly that looked like a kiss from Heaven.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful,” Alex said softly, causing her to look up at him. The baby began to wiggle and squirm in earnest as her cries increased. As if it was nothing, Carrie began to feed her. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to have a baby against her, and all her fears of being a good mother melted away. She would do anything to protect her daughter.

  “I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for everything you’ve been through,” Alex began softly, his finger touching the baby’s cheek. “You’ve been so strong, so steadfast and waited for me for so long. I didn’t realize until I kissed you. It was like I was coming home and everything snapped back into place.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I remember… I remember it all, sweetheart.”

  “Alex… I…”

  “I want to be with my wife and for us to build a life here – together. I can’t explain how lost and scared I was when you suddenly walked into my world. I was just getting to a point where I wasn’t feeling so adrift when I had the most beautiful woman in the world claiming she was my wife.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I think I do. I owe it to you – that and my heart. I got here and started on our house right away, knowing that I wanted to bring you here as soon as possible but then the snow started to fall. I knew travel would be dangerous, but I still wanted to have the house ready. I shouldn’t have been working on that tree that day and I knew the ladder was slick with ice… I could have died. Even when I didn’t know myself or what was going on – I knew deep down inside that I needed to get ready for something.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I couldn’t explain why and wouldn’t tell anyone about my secret projects at the wood shop. I wanted to sell them when they were finished but couldn’t bring myself to… I knew they were being pulled from deep inside of me, from my soul, for a reason. For you – and for our little girl.”

  “What projects?”

  “That…” Carrie’s eyes followed to where he was pointing and gasped in surprise. In the corner of the bedroom was a hand-carved rocking chair and small cradle beside each other. Both were lovingly carved with flowers, hearts, and vines. They looked more like artwork rather than furniture pieces and both had been stained with oil to make the wood glisten.

  “Deep down inside Carrie I have always loved you and always known somehow that I needed to get ready for you both. It frightened me because I felt like someone knew my deepest darkest secrets and that my new life, the one I barely recognized, was spinning out of my control.”

  “What do you want then… if you have control and could have anything?”

  “I want you both here, with me. I do love you, Carrie.”

  “I love you too.”

  “What shall we call our sweet little girl?”

  “Maybe we should name her Anna after your mother?”

  “Now you are just showing off that you can remember things,” she said with a giggle and stroked the dark tuft of hair on her daughter’s round head. “I was thinking perhaps something more fitting for us.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “I think it was our destiny to meet, marry, and fall in love a second time around. I had to lose what I loved in order to realize what it meant to me and how precious it was. I need both of you and won’t settle for less.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” he said gently, kissing her forehead. “Now that I have you both in my life, I am never letting you go.”

  “What do you think of Destiny for her name?”

  “I think it’s perfect – just like her.”

  Carrie awoke hours later feeling her body respond to the baby’s cry of hunger. As Destiny drank, she lay there looking at her child and reveling in the fact that she was here with her Alex. It felt like so much was snapping into place in her life and she felt so blessed for it.

  Kate would be here in a few months and that would give her and Alex time to reunite with each other – and learn the needs of their beautiful baby girl. Nothing could be sweeter than knowing that as the blossoms unfurled, so did a new life that she was looking forward to as Alex’s wife once again and Destiny’s mother.

  Afterword

  Thank you for taking the time to read Blessings of Love. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Doesn’t have to be much, just a simple rating and a few kind words work wonders. Your thoughts, opinions and feedback are much appreciated.

  Sincerely,

  Ginny

  Hopefully Matched

  Married at the brink of the Civil War, young Ava Buchannan dutifully bids farewell to her new husband as any proper southern woman would. The problem is she never dreamed that it would be the last time she ever saw him. In her heart, she knew she should wait for his return, yet her mind told her differently. In the seven years that have passed since her marriage, she’s seen other women move forward with their lives. Yet she is trapped maintaining the family business of undertaker for the town of Maypearl, Texas. Seeing so much death, having no prospects of happiness, and a squeamish constitution were all taking their toll on her… until hope arrived in the form of a letter.

  Desperate for a fresh start after the war, Jeremiah Ellington responded to an ad in the paper for a job. His home had been razed, his family gone, and he had only the items on his back to begin his life again. When he received a response to the ad for an assistant to the town’s undertaker, it seemed to be a perfect solution for a former surgeon in the army. One look at the lovely undertaker and his dead heart came alive. Jeremiah would do anything to have Ava in his life, including making her forget her long lost husband.

  Can Ava let down her guard enough to begin to enjoy the life around her? Can Jeremiah find a way to break through the shell that is protecting her heart as they are suddenly hopefully matched together.

  A glimpse at Wanted: Hired Gun

  July 1900

  Garrison had finally g
one and done it.

  He’d gone too far and crossed the line. Hanging out with the rebellious group of men had finally done him in. He’d been meeting the guys after work at the factory for a few months now meeting up on Fridays and gaming the night away. There had been several times where they would meet, enjoy a drink and spend hours on end telling outlandish tales to each other to see who could come up with the most original and outrageous.

  It was all in good fun until James had been caught pocketing bills and coins off the card table they’d been playing at. Garrison could hear the roar of outrage from the massive man who’d overturned the table in a murderous rage. James had never shut up, going on and on about the man’s wife, sister and mother with more and more lewd remarks.

  They weren’t in the greatest part of town anyways and his mother had told him to avoid this club repeatedly. All the wildest news stories that made the papers seemed to originate here. Apparently tonight would be no different.

  “Shut up, James,” Garrison had barked angrily. “Apologize to the man.”

  “Garrison, you always were a mama’s boy, weren’t you?” Lester had teased, causing the focus of James and the rest of the crowd to turn to him. This is when he should have turned tail and left, before the interior of the club exploded in a frenzy of fists.

  “Garrison… admit it – we’ve all been lifting money from the idiot for weeks on end. I can’t believe the big lummox has only just now realized it,” Edward crowed in delight. “I’ve been itching for a fight and we are gonna have some fun now boy-o’s!” His heavy Irish accent got thicker and thicker as the anticipation swelled.

  Staring in shock between the men whom he’d grown close to over the last few months, Garrison realized that they were nothing but common thieves fleecing the hardworking men who were looking to unwind a bit. This included himself, he thought, how many times had they taken from him unknowingly?

  He’d just returned from a spell in the military. When his campaign finally ended, he seized the opportunity to return home. He’d taken the second chance at life upon overhearing that the USS Maine had sank off the coast of Cuba. It had been eye-opening that he could die at such a young age. He was barely twenty-seven with no family other than his mother. Garrison was working odd jobs to get on his feet, trying to get a position with the police. He’d been a crack-shot in the military and hoped to use his skills to begin a career here at home. He wanted a normal life, someone to welcome him home and make him feel wanted.

  When the fighting started, Garrison had positioned himself in a defensive point away from the others. He’d dodged several blows but when the knives and guns came out, the doubt was gone. It was time to go.

  Lester had led the way out of the club and Garrison had never seen a man run so fast in his life. It was shameful the girly scream that had escaped the thin man as he kicked up his heels and took off. Garrison’s own heart was pounding with adrenaline as several others made their way into the near-empty streets.

  It was late and the moon was high in the night sky, illuminating the ruckus. He heard the wail of the siren as the police wagon came down Main Street to pick them all up and Garrison began to run for a hiding spot. It would not do to have an interview with the chief of police for a position with the station the very same day he was arrested. That would only go poorly for him and ruin his chances at a decent job in town.

  “Oh, I’d say my chances are good and ruined now,” Garrison muttered to himself. He lay there on the small cot, contemplating what would happen now that he’d been arrested. Several of the other men had gotten away, but not him.

  No, he’d gone and had an asthma attack mid-run that had him gasping for breath, rather than following the others into the darkened cobblestone streets. His cursed lungs had failed him once again. He’d had attacks as a child and seen the physician repeatedly to assuage his mother’s worries. It had been a long time since he’d had an attack – and now she’d simply worry about his jailtime instead.

  Garrison had been handcuffed there in the streets, coughing and gasping for breath- unable to defend himself as the attack had been quite fierce. Because he’d been shackled, he couldn’t reach for his anti-asthmatic cigarettes. They seemed to be the only thing that helped when the attacks were this bad.

  He’d finally found a brand that didn’t make his heart skip a beat or flutter weirdly. There was something in them that proclaimed to aide in “laborious respiration and extreme wheezing” his doctor had described it. Garrison had thought he was a loon, prescribing him with tincture that was sure to aide him. It would aide him in becoming a penniless man! He could deal with the coughing and wheezing- keeping his hard-earned money. As long as he stayed away from feathers, other irritants, and refrained from running- he’d be just fine.

  Accused of theft, aggravated assault, and resisting arrest, Garrison was certain to do time and was positive his mother would be absolutely distraught. She’d been so proud that he’d finally come home to settle down, claiming he got his ‘wildness from his father’. His pa had been a railroad man that preferred the open skies and rugged outdoors to the city – something he could certainly appreciate now. He was cooped up in a small cell awaiting word of what would happen next.

  Garrison didn’t have long to wait.

  The sentence came down almost immediately the next morning when he was dragged into the courtroom. He could tell by looking between the judge and the police chief that they were in cahoots. He knew the second the gavel hit the wood that they were looking to make an example of him and of the fight.

  “Shameful, flagrant, horrific conduct by this young man resulted in a nightmarish situation for our young community. We cannot let this type of miscreant be allowed to continue this run of theft and show of resistance to our police force. We must keep order,” the judge began and slammed down the gavel several times as Garrison heard his mother’s wail from the back of the room. Hanging his head in shame, he listened as they went on to explain, “This young man attempted to slither into the law, this very morning- in order to create chaos from the inside. This is not acceptable and will never be allowed. The murders…”

  Garrison’s head jerked upwards at this as he stared horrified between the police chief’s smile and the judge’s hard expression. Murders? Who died? Was he being framed? He listened in shock as his knees gave way from under him as a list of names was presented.

  “I’ve killed no one,” Garrison began weakly, feeling himself panic at the charges being levied onto him. “You hear me? I’ve killed no one. I’ve done nothing!” he finished in a panicked shout trying to speak over the judge’s voice to no avail. The gavel slammed downwards once again and he heard the words he’d feared the moment he’d been accused of murder.

  “You are condemned to hang in the morning. We’ll have no more from you today- take him away.”

  Garrison didn’t sleep at all that night. He spent hours on end upon his knees staring out of the jail cell window, praying hard. He prayed for freedom, peace for his mother, and for forgiveness for a crime he didn’t commit.

  “Please God, hear my pleas…I am innocent and too young for this. I came home to begin again- I can’t die in the morning. Please…” He whispered aloud, feeling another round of tears welling up from his soul and spilling over his lashes. “Lord, please save me.”

  He clasped his shackled hands together simply to keep them from shaking, only to hear the chains rattle faintly. Listening he heard faint prayers from another cell down the way, knowing that he would not be alone when he met his Maker. He couldn’t believe how something so innocent, so simple – could go so terribly wrong.

  Just when Garrison thought nothing else could happen in his life, he heard a voice behind him. His mother had arrived at the jail and he knew he’d never be prepared for the devastation or condemnation in her eyes. How could he face her? He’d been accused of murder and goodness knows what else since his ears began to ring when they started listing off things. What exactly was jaywal
king? Larceny? A whole slew of different words had rolled right off the judge’s tongue and Garrison could have sworn some were made up words – all were made up accusations.

  “Mama, please go home,” Garrison whispered, staying where he was on the ground. He felt lower than dirt right now and was still in shock of what was happening to him. “I love you, Mama – but go away.”

  “I’m glad to see you on your knees, son – but I ain’t leaving.” His mother’s voice wasn’t distraught or full of tears. She sounded like she was mad, almost exactly like that day when he was seven and had stuffed a wasp nest into a box, wrapping it up for Christmas. It hadn’t been funny and when one of his friends had tattled. Garrison had been the one to have to open the box up. He remembered running as fast as he could and being stung repeatedly. He wished he could run away now, he thought with a heavy sigh, regardless of his asthma.

  “I’ve got a plan and you need to mark my words, boy – I will not see my only son hang,” her voice wavered then, causing him to look over his shoulder at the ferocious woman standing there. Her face was streaked with dried tears and she looked furious. He could have sworn steam poured from her ears and nose, she was definitely frothing at the mouth- she was so spitting angry. “You hear me? You won’t hang or I’ll fill him full of lead!”

  “Mama!” Garrison barked, “Shush and don’t you go about saying those things. I’ll be fine.”

  “No, you won’t- you blasted twit. They are going to hang you if you don’t do what I say.”

  “Mama, they are gonna hang me regardless- did you see the courtroom?”

  “That dirty police chief and Judge Nicholson are both going straight to –“

  “Mama! Enough!” Garrison interrupted, struggling to his feet and staggered to the bars. He felt like he was practically hog-tied with the shackles around his ankles. Did they think he was dangerous? That he’d run? He wouldn’t get far before he started hacking for breath. “You need to go home and say a few prayers for me.”