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Spring 1889 – Four years later
It was just after dawn when Maggie stepped outside the house and onto the porch, where she leaned against the railing and looked out at the land around the ranch house, brimming with spring, coming alive with color after a long, cold winter. They hadn’t had much snow, but it had been bitterly cold, too cold to snow actually, so she was grateful for the bit of warmth that the sun, just coming up over the horizon, immediately offered.
Prairie grasses were slowly changing from the color of straw to a variegated and early spring green. In the distance, a flock of geese were headed northward, spread out in a large V, the honking of the lead goose barely audible over the great expanse of prairie spreading out around them. Soon, foals and calves would be born, and she would be busy not only with her business at the seamstress shop in town, but with planting a garden and taking care of the yard animals, including a new batch of piglets soon to be born.
She smiled, thinking it hard to believe that four years had passed since she’d collapsed on Caleb’s land just beside the river nearby, and how completely her life had changed since that moment. She heard a low shout from the barn. Moments later a huge stallion pranced into the corral from the stables, Caleb close behind. Her heart skipped a beat, as it always did when she spied him coming home from a long day on the range or like now, catching her first sight of him on a new day.
She headed for the corral. When he saw her he stopped and waited, a grin curving his lips. He was working with the young stallion, barely two years old, but one that was already garnering a lot of interest from ranchers not only around Copper Springs, but throughout the state. Caleb had him on a long tether, but he didn’t really need it. The animal, though massive, was among the most gently tempered horses she’d seen over the past few years. It was a good thing too, for only a moment later, she spied three-year-old Josiah, named after Caleb’s father, emerge from the barn and rush toward his father. He flung himself against one of Caleb’s legs and she smiled as her husband picked him up and sat him onto the top of the corral fence to watch.
Maggie laughed as their one-year-old daughter, Isabelle, named after the mother she had never really known, squirmed in her arms as she reached out for her brother on the fence. Both of them had wavy honey-blonde hair like their father, but they both had her eyes. Little Josiah was a handful, and she often knew exactly where he was due to his loud, deep belly laugh. Isabelle was quieter, but always watchful, never missing a thing.
“I’ll be finished out here in just a few minutes and then I can get ready for church,” he said, giving her a kiss. He then leaned over to kiss the top of Isabelle’s head and then kissed Maggie again, on the lips, a gentle, lingering kiss that filled Maggie’s heart with never-ending joy.
“Papa! Papa, me!”
Caleb laughed, that laugh that emerged from deep in his throat and always prompted a smile from Maggie. He tugged his attention from her and placed it on his daughter, giving her another kiss, this time on the forehead. Then, of course, Josiah wanted attention too, nearly bouncing on the corral railing until Caleb snatched him up and pulled him into his arm, holding him against his hip.
Once again Maggie marveled at her life, her family, how everything had changed from feelings of despair to unbridled joy and pleasure. Of course, there were a few ups and downs, as there always were when two people learned how to live together and find their rhythms and adjust to different habits, but not once since the moment Caleb asked her to marry him had she ever even come close to regretting it. No, not at all. She was where she belonged, where she had always belonged but just didn’t know it yet.
Just then, movement from the house captured both their attention. Ruth appeared and moved to the edge of the porch, lifting a hand to shade the rising sun from her eyes. She looked around a moment before she caught sight of Maggie and Caleb and their children by the corral.
“Well, I guess I better get inside and washed up and dressed for church,” Caleb murmured. He glanced at his son. “You too, Josiah.”
The boy looked up at him, a frown curving his lips. “But I already washed up!”
Caleb chuckled softly. “That’s good then. Now you go on and your grandmother will help you get dressed for church.”
“I can do it all by myself,” Josiah pouted.
“You listen to your father, Josiah,” Maggie gently scolded. “The last time we let you dress yourself for church you put on your overalls and no shoes and socks, remember?”
“I’ll put on the suit you made me, Mama,” he mumbled. “But I can dress myself, okay?”
“All right, go on now.”
Maggie crossed the yard and had barely reached the porch before Isabel was leaning forward, arms outstretched for Grandmama, as the children called her. The transfer was made easily and the child settled comfortably against Ruth’s shoulder. Ruth’s hair had gone fully gray now, but her eyes and mind were as sharp as ever, and more often than not the dimple was ever present in her cheek. She taught Sunday school at the new church, the new church that Maggie and Caleb had built for the growing town of Copper Springs, its white steeple visible for a nearly a mile on a clear day. Ruth spoiled her grandchildren shamelessly, but that’s what grandmothers were supposed to do, wasn’t it?
“Hannah sent me a note yesterday,” Ruth said. “She and Doc will be coming for supper this evening.”
Maggie smiled. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d seen Hannah and her husband, who had traveled down to Denver for some sort of medical symposium. Hannah had married the town doctor two years ago and now served as a part-time nurse at his practice in town. She was not only a valued member of the doctor’s medical practice, but also of the school and church boards, as well as city leadership.
“And we better put the roast in the oven before we leave for church,” Maggie murmured. She was already thinking of side dishes when Ruth told her she had just completed that task. She glanced at Ruth as she nuzzled Isabelle, her heart warm with love and gratitude for the woman.
“Grandmama!” Josiah squealed as he wiggled out of Caleb’s arms and ran toward the older woman, obviously prepared to fling himself against her legs like he had Caleb’s.
“Gently, Josiah!” Caleb reminded him just in time. “Don’t knock your grandmother over!”
Josiah came to a stuttering halt mere inches from his grandmother’s skirts and then, ever so gently, extended his arms and wrapped them around her leg. Maggie smiled and shook her head, glancing up at Caleb, who watched his son with love shining in his eyes. Caleb was such a good father to both their children and she thanked God for the blessings that had been bestowed upon them over the past years.
Less than an hour later, she, Caleb, Ruth, and the children, her daughter sitting on her lap and Josiah on his grandmother’s, made their way into town in the buggy. It was a cool, pleasant morning, one that promised plenty of warm sunshine later on in the day. By the time they got into town, Josiah was squirming and could hardly wait to be put down. Caleb guided the buggy toward the end of the churchyard, already crowded with other horses, buggies, and a buckboard or two. The town of Copper Springs had grown in the past four years, with countless new families, businesses, and new friends.
“Maggie! Ruth!”
Maggie turned to find Martha Jennings, who still owned the store’s mercantile, and who also still knew everyone’s business, coming toward them, a newspaper lifted in her hand. Caleb took Isabelle from her arms as she and Ruth approached the woman. Caleb strode toward a group of men standing closer to the church door, his daughter in his arms and Josiah his ever-present shadow by his side.
“What is it, Martha?” Ruth asked, eyebrows raised in concern. “What’s happened?”
“Well, nothing alarming,” Martha assured them. “I just wanted to show you the latest edition of the Gazette that arrived yesterday afternoon.” She waved the paper in front of the ladies. “Thomas has written another fine editorial and I wanted you to have the paper first so you could read it before it was ruined by clumsy hands.”
Maggie smiled as she took the paper from Martha and unfolded it. The masthead read: Thomas and Eliza Whitfield, Editors and Publishers. She smiled with amazement when she saw a very small editorial with a byline that read ‘Lily Whitfield, Junior Correspondent’. She laughed softly. At twelve years old, Lily was an excellent writer, one of the most observant young ladies Maggie had ever known. She handed the paper to her mother-in-law before turning to Martha, who knew everything about everybody it seemed.
“Have you heard any news about when they are coming back to visit?”
Three years ago, Eliza Brennan and Thomas Whitfield had married. Just last year they had moved to Fort Collins, and ten months later had welcomed a baby boy. When they’d heard the news, she glanced at Caleb, saw his smile, her eyes shining with tears as he turned to her and spoke some words she would never forget.
“God works in his mysterious ways, looking after each of his children, guiding us in the way we are to go.”
Now, just before she entered the church, Maggie paused to read the bronze plaque near the corner of the structure, dedicating the building in the memory of Charles and Isabelle Fontaine, her parents. She ran her fingers gently over the plaque, then followed Caleb and the others inside for the church service.
Nearly two hours later she emerged with the last of the congregation and spied Sheriff Hawkins, retired now, sitting on one of the benches outside on the lawn, soaking up the sunshine. He removed his hat when he saw her and gestured her closer.
Caleb and Ruth had the children, visiting with friends and neighbors, so Maggie walked over to join the sheriff on the bench. She sat down, grateful for the moment’s peace and quiet before they headed home and the day’s work and cooking would keep her busy.
“Got a letter from California,” he said.
She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?”
He nodded. “Figured you might want to read it.”
She eyed him for several moments, then glanced at the letter he held. She knew who it was from. Her uncle. Solomon had been writing letters off and on for two years now, ever since his release from federal prison. They were cautious letters, asking for nothing, expecting nothing, he often wrote, only wanting her to know that he finally understood the wrongness, the weight of what he had done, not only to his brother, but to her, and asking for forgiveness.
The reverend knew about those letters, as did the sheriff, but not many others. She knew the reverend occasionally corresponded with Solomon during his imprisonment. He’d told her that somewhere in those years, Solomon had found faith and prayed for forgiveness, not only from God, but from her. According to the reverend, her uncle was a church sextant now, tending graves and sweeping floors and maintaining upkeep of the church and managing what repairs he could.
“You going to answer this one?” the sheriff asked.
She eyed the battered, somewhat dusty envelope before taking it, her lips pursed. While she had forgiven her uncle, as God wanted her to, she still wasn’t ready to forget. There was a great difference between the two, forgiveness and forgetting. “I’m not sure if I’m ready, but then again, I’m not sure I’m not, either.”
“Well, you’ll know when the time is right, Maggie.” With that, the sheriff stood and moved off to join some of the men clustered in a small group under a nearby elm tree, just now leafing out.
On the way home, Caleb glanced at her, Isabelle asleep on her shoulder, the other hand holding the letter. In the backseat, Ruth sat quietly, Josiah curled up on the bench seat asleep, his head in her lap.
“You got another letter from your uncle.”
She nodded. They topped a rise and Maggie looked over the valley spreading below them, beautiful, rugged, growing alive once again with spring, the same place where Caleb had first told her of his feelings. She smiled. “Maybe I’ll be ready soon.”
Caleb said nothing, but nodded in agreement. “You’ll know when that time comes, Maggie.”
That night, after supper, after Hannah and Doc had returned to their home in Copper Springs, long after darkness had fallen, Maggie stepped out onto the porch as she always did when the weather was nice, and looked up at the night sky filled with thousands of stars.
“You read the letter from your uncle?” Caleb said. He reached for her hand and gave it a soft squeeze.
She nodded and heaved a sigh. “I used to wonder why God allowed my parents to die, why he left me in Solomon’s hands, but I don’t wonder about that anymore.”
He turned to her, his eyes filled curiosity. “You don’t?”
She shook her head. “No, because every step led here, to this land, to you, to you and my children.” She turned to him. “My uncle wants to know if he can come for a visit, but he says not to claim any hold on or over me, but he said just to see my face and know that I’m well.”
He said nothing for several moments. “And are you? Well?”
She looked up at him and smiled. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as the stars twinkled in the sky. “Yes,” she murmured. “I am well.”
They walked toward the far edge of the yard and topped a low rise. Maggie looked over the valley spreading below them, beautiful and rugged in the growing darkness. They stood quietly for several minutes, the night surrounding them before he spoke again.
“That night I found you, I thought I was saving a stranger.” His voice softened. “I didn’t know that you would be the one to save me, to show me what love could be, and give me children and purpose in a future I never knew I was missing out on.”
She leaned against him, the side of her head pressed against his chest, listening to his heart thudding beneath her ear. Neither said another word, but they didn’t have to. Over the coming years there would be numerous joys as well as sorrows, as life always held. Yet tonight, standing there with him, she felt nothing but peace and a great deal of gratitude. Her love for him was solid, strong, and true. She lifted her eyes to the sky once more, the stars twinkling in the blackness above, her thoughts on God and what He had done for her. She smiled, her heart filled with love and contentment.
Lord, thank You for leading me home.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, " Faith and Love on the Frontier", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Hello my dears, I hope you enjoyed the book and the Extended Epilogue! I will be waiting for your comments here. Thank you 🙂
I enjoyed this book very much I recommend it to everyone. It taught her to love everyone as family.the EE was interesting to know hey. Had two children and that his sister married the. Dr.
Thank you so much—I’m really glad you enjoyed the story and its message. It means a lot that you’d recommend it, and I’m happy you liked the extended epilogue and seeing how everyone’s lives unfolded. 💛
Delightful & enjoyable reading. Also with danger which kept readers wondering.
Thr extended reading is a very good ending.
Thank you so much! I’m delighted you enjoyed the story and that the suspense kept you wondering what would happen next. 💛 I’m also glad you enjoyed the extended ending—it was wonderful to spend a little more time with the characters.
I loved the story, it was heartfelt an told in away that brought memories and struggle’s that the Lord has seen us through. I love the characters and their stories. The scripture that was used recognized that God is always by our side.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I’m truly glad the story touched your heart and brought back meaningful memories for you. 💛 It means a lot to know the characters and the message of God’s presence spoke to you in that way.
I really enjoyed this story. I like when there is scriptures in the story line that can help us in our lives as it does for those in the story. I really liked the ending when the bouny hunter steps up and helps them to arrest the two causing so much problems. I always like to read the extended epilogue especially when you hear good things that happen to the characters. I always enjoy a happy ending even for her uncle to know the saving knowledge of our Savior. I haven’t found a book I didn’t like written by Lilah. Can’t wait for the next book to read, even if I have to reread one. Please keep up the good work, I think God blesses people through your books.
Thank you so much—this truly means a lot. I’m so glad the scripture and themes of faith resonated with you, and that you enjoyed the ending and extended epilogue. 💛
Your encouragement is such a gift, and I’m grateful for your support and kindness.