Authors: Rosalind Lauer
When he kissed her, the light touch of his lips awakened something inside her. The tenderness he stirred in her gave birth to a new vulnerability. The tough shell of stoic, practical Meg was cracking open to reveal a new woman—a playful, impetuous person—one who would take a chance on love.
Jack ended the kiss, hugging her close. “I don’t want to give these kids any ideas,” he muttered under his breath.
Meg smiled as she glanced lazily down the pond at the other skaters. No one paid any attention to them. “Mmm. I think they know the deal but, yeah. The midwife and the cop should not be setting a bad example.”
“So …” He leaned back slightly so their eyes could meet. “How about that time line? I didn’t want to rush you to get married, but now it looks like God’s giving us a little push.”
“A big push,” she agreed, studying his face. “But I’m ready, Jack.” It was the first time a huge decision in her life did not seem daunting and frightening. “I’m ready if you are.”
He looked up at the winter sky. “Thank you, Lord. I couldn’t have asked for a better segue.”
“What are you talking about?”
He unzipped his jacket and fished out a small, blue velvet jewelry box. “Man, I’ve been walking around with this ring in my pocket, hoping and praying there’d be a time to spring it on you.” Dropping to one knee on the well-packed snow, he lifted his eyes to hers. Jack had a way of captivating her with a simple glance. “Marry me, Meg. Marry me and we’ll have a whole posse of kids. A house filled with joy and laughter. I know there’ll be bumps in the road, but if we’re traveling together, we’ll make the most of it.”
A pulse of joy thrummed in her ears. She could not have dreamed of such a beautiful proposal, under a canopy of snow-covered trees. “Jack … I can’t imagine a life without you.”
“My heart’s pumping like crazy.” He pressed the jewelry box to his chest with a smile. “This is like … an epic moment.”
A moment Meg would never forget. She’d been so nervous about telling Jack; this was not the outcome she’d expected. “You are full of surprises.”
“You should try this on.” The ring’s lavender stone glittered as he slid it onto her finger. “A perfect fit. How about that?”
Never a big jewelry fan, Meg was drawn to the ring’s tooled silver setting and the way the flat stone was nearly flush against her hand. “It’s beautiful, Jack.”
“It was my grandmother’s … a late engagement ring. My grandfather gave it to her on their tenth anniversary when their finances were on an even keel.” He explained that his gran had popped it into the mail soon after Christmas because of her sense that Jack was getting seriously involved with Meg.
“How could she know that? You haven’t seen her for months. She hasn’t met me yet.”
“Maternal instincts, I guess.” He held up her hand, smiling over the twinkling gemstone. “If you want to pick out a diamond instead, I’m cool with that.”
“No way.” She tugged her hand away, coddling the stone. “It suits me well, and I like that it has a family history.”
Still kneeling, he put his hands on her knees and leaned forward so that his forehead pressed hers, so close, so intimate. It was as if they were the only two people in this winter scene.
“Thank you,” Meg whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
With a sigh of contentment, Meg closed her eyes and melted into his kiss. For a few moments they sat in silence, basking in the peace of the winter landscape and the contentment of each other’s company.
Thank you, dear Lord
, Meg prayed silently.
Thank you for bringing love into my life when I least expected it
.
“How’re you feeling?” Jack asked. “You okay?”
“Better, but I don’t think I’ll be competing for any figure skating medals today.”
Jack chuckled. “There’s always another Olympics coming down the pike.”
The day’s light was graying and a chill set in as they finished up the last of the cocoa and removed their skates. Meg moved tenderly, but pain no longer gripped her. As they walked up the path from the frozen pond, they held hands, chatting about how Jack had started putting together Abigail’s crib and had to abandon the project after four hours.
“I was thinking we might head over that way, help Kat out.”
“Sure. Though the baby really won’t need a crib for a few weeks, it’s good to have it all ready to go,” she said. “And any excuse to see Abigail works for me.” Although Meg routinely did postpartum care for mothers, she didn’t always get to visit with the babies she’d delivered. But then, it would be different with Abigail … soon to be her niece.
Her niece. That had a nice ring to it.
For years she had resigned herself to being single and childless. And now? Now she was about to be a wife, an aunt, and maybe even a mother. God truly did work in wondrous ways.
I
t began when Zoey couldn’t finish the breakfast frittata that Shandell had prepared. “It’s delicious, as usual,” Zoey insisted, maneuvering to lift her bulky body from her seat at the table. “But I’m just not that hungry this morning.” She stretched her arms out. “My lower back has been feeling a little twingey. Is it too decadent to take a bath this early in the morning?”
Meg pressed a napkin to her lips as she studied her sister. All the signs were there. The baby had dropped two days ago, and Zoey had reported that she didn’t sleep well. Of course, she would examine Zoey after her bath, but she had a strong sense that this was it.
“Take your bath, honey,” she said. “When you’re done, you and Tate might want to take a walk, just to the edge of town and back. That’s really helpful in the early stages of labor.”
Tate lowered his newspaper and Shandell rushed over from the kitchen sink.
“Do you think? Really?” Zoey scraped back her pale hair with a wan smile. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Of course you’re ready. You’ve just about memorized
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
.” Shandell started to clear the table. “This is so exciting. What do you want me to do?”
“For starters, you can take out those sheets that we wrapped up, and the drop cloths. In a little bit, I’ll send you over to let Fanny know. Experienced help is always a good thing.” Fanny had a wonderful way with mothers, and she seemed to anticipate what was needed. Working with Fanny, Meg often felt as if she had an extra set of hands to accomplish everything that needed to be done during a delivery.
Tate put down his
Wall Street Journal
and came to Zoey’s side. “How about I escort you to the master suite?”
Zoey took his arm and leaned into him affectionately. “Well, it’s just a few steps away, but you’re so sweet, I can never say no to you.”
Meg’s suspicions were confirmed with a quick exam. All that morning, she thanked God for bringing her here to monitor and chart and savor her sister’s progress. She kept watch over Zoey, sometimes just rubbing her feet. It was best to keep a low profile and allow Zoey and Tate their privacy and intimacy. Just after noon, Zoey transitioned into active labor, and just before suppertime, a baby girl was born.
Although the birth had gone smoothly, Meg felt supercharged with the surge of adrenaline that came with coaxing a baby into the world.
“Ten fingers and ten toes?” Tate asked.
“Yes, and she’s beautiful and very alert. Aren’t you?” Meg saw her sister’s full lips in the infant, who stared up at her curiously. She swaddled her in a warm receiving blanket and handed her to Tate, saying, “Off you go to Daddy.”
“Amazing Grace.” Low-key, rational Tate actually had tears in his eyes.
“That’s a wonderful good name,” Fanny said, and she began to hum the hymn.
Tate brought the baby to Zoey and laid her on his wife’s belly. With a slow smile, Zoey was now a picture of relaxation. “Come here, you little girl, you.” She pushed back the blanket to examine her little girl, downy hair, wrinkly flesh, and pudgy thighs. “You are just perfect.”
Over the next two weeks, as Zoey and Tate settled into their wondrous, sleep-deprived role as parents of a newborn, Meg and Jack began to sow the seeds of their new life together. They picked a wedding date in the first week of March. A ceremony at their church would be followed by a small dinner at the Halfway to Heaven Bed and Breakfast.
Meg and Jack began a series of counseling sessions with their minister, Bob Palmer, whose home could have been an advertisement for family life, with sleds and snow forts on the front lawn, and kid art on the bulletin board in his office.
Neither Meg nor Jack was thrilled with the prospect of staying in his bachelor apartment. A local Realtor showed them a few places, but nothing suited them. In the end, they decided to rent one of three outbuildings that Zoey and Tate had turned into guest cottages. Some renovation was required to turn the tiny kitchenette into a full-size kitchen, but once the work was completed the two-bedroom cottage would be a perfect home for them. The cottage was full of country charm, and both Meg and Jack liked being close to town and just off a major road, in case they had to get to work in inclement weather.
“And you’ll be right in our backyard!” Zoey exclaimed.
Meg chuckled. “Literally. Mom always wanted the two of us to stay close, but I don’t think even she could imagine us living a few yards from each other.”
“I’m so glad Mom’s coming for the wedding.” Zoey patted the baby’s back. Grace was facedown in her lap, a good position for relieving gas.
It was Sunday, just after noon, and Zoey and Tate had just returned from church. Meg had gone with Jack last night, as he had to work today, and she had enjoyed spending the morning with her niece, who definitely favored a connection with a warm body over the flat, cool desert of her barren crib. Now that there were guests in the inn, they were using the private sitting room, just off Zoey and Tate’s suite. Wearing a robe and spandex shorts, Meg was waiting for Shandell to return from the sewing area in the laundry room with the shell of her wedding gown.
“I can’t wait to see your gown,” Zoey said. “Shandell is really excited about it.”
To her surprise, Meg had been enjoying the dressmaking process, too. For someone who lived in blue jeans, the prospect of dressing up had been daunting.
Wanting to keep things simple, Meg had been putting feelers out for local dressmakers when Shandell had volunteered to make her wedding gown. “You’ve chosen a really simple pattern; I could have whipped this together in junior high,” Shandell had insisted.
“That young woman has hidden talents,” Meg said. “I was a little worried when we picked out the material; it’s so delicate. But she’s a skilled seamstress.”
“And do you know who taught her how to follow a pattern and sew a straight seam?” asked Zoey. “Rachel King.” A young Amish woman, Rachel had helped Shandell when she was first stranded in Halfway. “Shandell is a treasure,” Meg agreed.
The young woman was also going to be Meg’s driver tomorrow, the day of her surgery. Shandell had been the obvious choice because Jack was working, and Meg didn’t want to drag Zoey or Tate away from the inn and the baby for the entire morning.
Meg was cooing for baby Grace when Shandell returned with the dress.