Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (45 page)

Epilogue

September 1889

T
his was worse than any gunshot. Clint looked at the window of the Healing Hearts Clinic and felt his stomach tumble toward his boots. He hated the thought of Katrine being ill. They only had each other—even the slightest hint of losing her made his heart freeze into sharp splinters. He'd made such a scene in the infirmary that Alice had been forced to shoo him outside.

Clint stared at the church, now finished, and thought about the morning he wed her under that very steeple.
I can't lose her, Lord. I'll die. It's that plain and simple.

Lije came out of the clinic door, a serious look on his face. Clint knew that look. Nothing good came from that look. He'd never tell Lije he called it The Pastor Bad News Face, but Clint could see his brother steeling himself for a difficult conversation as clear as if there were a sign around Lije's neck.
No
. Three months ago, he'd have classified himself as a man never given to hysteria. Clint was pretty sure he was on the verge of hysteria now.

“How is she?” he blurted out, remembering the sallow look on Katrine's face, how the energy seemed to be seeping out of her with every day. “She's lost too much weight, hasn't she?”

Lije came up and put a hand on Clint's shoulder. It felt like Lije handed him a shovel and told him to pick out a pretty spot for a headstone. He cleared his throat. “Clint...”

“That bad?” Katrine could not,
would not
be Brave Rock's first true funeral.

“I need to have a...difficult conversation with you.”

How would you like to bury your wife?

“You were...alone a long while before you met Katrine.”

You'll know what to do when you are alone again
.

Lije cleared his throat again. Glory, how bad was it? Was she gone already? They wouldn't leave him out here in the yard while his wife drew her last breaths, would they? “In all that time, Clint, did you ever...have you ever...”

“Ever what?”

“I'm trying to get to that, little brother. I want you to know we'd do our best to look past a straying of that sort given how...”

“Exactly what are you askin' me, Lije?”

Lije ran his hands down his face. “Have you ever been with a...”

The nature of Lije's question hit Clint like a cannonball. “Have I ever...?” He stomped, pulling his hat off to slap it against Lije's shoulder. “What kind of man do you take me for? No! No, I have never...what you're suggesting...before my wife. Hang it, Lije, what kind of question is that?”

Lije pinched the bridge of his nose. “So we've never really known for sure, then.”

Clint was near his boiling point. “Known what?”

Lije shrugged and held Clint's eyes with a glare that said,
you're not going to make me say it, are you?
After a ridiculously long pause Lije chose his next words with pastoral delicacy. “What if Cousin Obadiah was wrong?”

What did long-dead Cousin Obadiah have to do with— Clint felt his world grind to a halt. He wasn't even sure he could spit the next words out. “Wrong about...”

“Clint, Alice thinks Katrine might be pregnant.”

Clint felt his knees buckle underneath him. He had to grab on to Lije to keep from keening over. He looked up at his brother with his mouth open, but couldn't get even the start of a word past the firecrackers going off in his chest.

“Actually,” Lije said with a smile that was quickly dissolving into full-blown laughter, “Alice is almost certain Katrine is pregnant.”

Clint grabbed Lije's face in his hands, staring into his brother's eyes. He had to be sure that's what he heard. “Katrine. A baby.”

“Yes.”

“Katrine is having a baby.” He shook Lije's face as the firecrackers inside nearly consumed him. The world spun too fast all of a sudden. “We're having a baby.”

Lije steadied Clint's shoulders. “So it would seem.”

For a long, crazy moment, Clint stared in disbelief at his brother. He wouldn't lie, not about something like this. Not with that look of flat-out wonder and joy in his eyes. Then it struck him; why on earth was he staring at Lije's eyes when he should be inside, staring into Katrine's eyes? “What am I doing out here?”

With a wide grin, Lije stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture toward the open infirmary door. Clint took the yard in a matter of seconds, flying over the threshold in something far too close to a leap, skidding into the room to see Katrine sitting up on an infirmary cot with glistening eyes. She looked frail and radiant and weary and beautiful, all at once. He went to pull his hat off his head, only to realize he'd dropped it somewhere along the way.

“What is it you always say?” Katrine said through the tears that made her eyes shine like stars. “God is mighty fond of surprises?”

He knelt down on one knee beside her on the bed, feeling like all the air had just gone out of the room. “Really?” It seemed far too much to hope for, more happiness than he knew how to bear.

Katrine nodded, another precious sob of joy shaking her dear slim body. He touched her hands, her shoulders, her wet cheeks in an attempt to convince himself he was wide awake. Katrine took his hand and moved it to her belly, and Clint thought he'd up and die of joy. Never, in every lonesome day since leaving Pennsylvania, did he dare to think Obadiah could be wrong about something so terribly serious. He'd memorized every inch of Katrine's tall and slender build, but now Clint felt just the slightest hint of a curve under his hand. He closed his eyes for a moment, overcome at the thought of the child under his palm. His child. Their child, the family he and Katrine had worked so hard to do without.

Alice's voice came soft over his shoulder. In truth, Clint had forgotten there was anyone else in the whole world right now. “She'll need to be careful, feeling so sick and all, but these things tend to pass later. I expect she'll be just fine and about April...”

“April,” Clint repeated.

“A spring baby,” Katrine said, meeting Clint's eyes which were now filled with tears. “Just think. Brave Rock was born in April this year, and our baby could be born on Brave Rock's first birthday. It fits, don't you think?”

“It fits perfectly,” came Lije's voice from behind him. Clint looked back to see his brother holding Alice's hand as she wiped away tears of her own.

Suddenly Gideon's frame filled the doorway, concern in his eyes. “Walt told me you brought Katrine in sickly. Is everything all right?”

“More than that,” Clint said, bringing Katrine's pale hand to his lips and planting a kiss there. “Way beyond, in fact.”

Gideon shifted his weight. “Someone want to tell me what's going on here?”

Lije lifted an eyebrow at Clint. “He ought to be the next to know, don't you think?”

Clint turned and stood to face his brothers. “We're having a baby.”

Gideon's eyes popped big as saucers. “A baby? But I thought—”

“We all thought. It's what Cousin Obadiah always told me. Never occurred to me not to believe him.” Clint wiped his hands down his face and took another long, wonderful gaze at his wife. “I ain't never been so glad to have thought wrong in all my life.”

Suddenly the room was filled with shouts and handclasps and enough happiness to fill the entire territory. Clint came back to the cot and swept Katrine up carefully in his arms. When she rested her head against his shoulder, it was as if the world slid perfectly into place and the future opened up wide and wonderful before him.

“Well,” he said into the sun-yellow of her hair, feeling like it would take a dozen years for the smile to leave his face, “at least we know one thing.”

Katrine raised her head to stare into his eyes. Glory, he hoped the child got her stunning, sky-blue eyes. “What's that?”

“That baby's going to be one strong kicker.”

Katrine laughed and threw her arms around his neck to hold him tight. She was brave and beautiful, his wife, and he never dreamed he could love her more than he already did.

Well, God was fond of surprises, wasn't He?

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from THE GENTLEMAN'S BRIDE SEARCH by Deborah Hale.

Dear Reader,

Too often we strive and strain when life hands us burdens—and life is very good at handing us burdens. I'm far too guilty of thinking I must hold everything up on my own, be strong and have it all together. The truth—if we'd only see it—would hand us so much peace: it is God who does the holding. He has already turned the corner we fear, and none of life's corners ever come as a surprise to Him.

I hope you've enjoyed your visit to Brave Rock and its charming citizens. They've become dear to me, as I hope they have to you, as well. If this is your first visit to Brave Rock, I hope you'll find the two prior books in the Bridegroom Brothers series and share Elijah and Alice's story as well as Gideon and Evelyn's.

As always, I love to hear from readers. Visit my website at
www.alliepleiter.com
, email me at
[email protected]
, or write me at P.O. Box 7026, Villa Park, IL 60181.

Blessings,

Questions for Discussion

1. Family feuds aren't just in history books. Where has a rift developed in your family and what damage has it caused?
   
2. Would you have taken part in the Land Rush if you were alive at that time? Why or why not?
   
3. What do you think of Clint's plan to hide Lars? Did he have another option?
   
4. Katrine and Evelyn both say how grief is exhausting. Who in your world is grieving and how can you offer help and encouragement?
   
5. Would you keep the burned logs if you were Katrine? Why or why not?
   
6. Winona says, “Hearts wander in foolishness. Or perhaps they are the wiser than our heads in what matters most.” Why is that a good thing? When does it cause trouble?
   
7. Do you agree or disagree with Clint that “there is no difference between the man who did the crime and the man who failed to stop it”?
   
8. Love can cross many cultural barriers. Where has this been true in your life? In the life of someone you know?
   
9. Katrine lets a past mistake define a great deal of her future. Where have you done this? How can faith redeem a situation like that?
   
10. Elijah tells Clint “the strongest people make peace with their scars.” Where has this been true in your life?
    

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.

You find illumination in days gone by.
Love Inspired Historical
stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.

Enjoy four new stories from Love Inspired Historical every month!

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Chapter One

Vale of Eden, Northern England
July 1817

“H
e's home! Papa is home!” Ten-year-old Matthew Chase and his younger brother Alfie ran into the entry hall of Amberwood Hall shouting the news of their father's arrival to everyone within earshot.

A powerful wave of relief washed over Evangeline Fairfax, accompanied by a cold undercurrent of annoyance. Mr. Chase should have returned from Manchester several days ago for his summer holiday with his family. His guests were due to arrive soon, and she had been frantic with worry that he would not be there to welcome them.

The guests were not exactly
his,
Evangeline reminded herself. His mother-in-law had extended the invitations, at her prompting. It had taken weeks of planning and work to organize this house party, which could mean so much to her future. She did not want anything to spoil it—least of all her obstinate, work-obsessed employer.

She had to admit that description hardly fit Jasper Chase when he strode through the door behind his elder sons. Her widowed employer seemed to have left the hard-headed cotton mill owner back in Manchester to become the genial, doting father of five. His youngest daughter, Rosie, rode on his shoulders, chattering away, while seven-year-old Owen clung to his hand. Emma, the oldest of the children, walked beside her father, staring up at him with an adoring gaze.

Seeing her dear pupils so happy brought a smile to Evangeline's lips and made her forget her simmering resentment of how much time Mr. Chase's business kept him away from them.

“Look, Papa! I lost a tooth!” Alfie grimaced to show the gap in his smile.

“How did you do that?” asked Mr. Chase, swinging Rosie down from his shoulders. “Take a tumble off the roof?”

“No!” Alfie laughed at his father's teasing suggestion. “It was only a tree. And the tooth was wiggly before that.”

Evangeline recalled the boy's latest calamity, sustained while trying to rescue a nest full of baby birds that he feared had been abandoned by their parents.

While his son spoke, Mr. Chase cast a puzzled-­looking glance around the entry hall. It was much tidier than usual and crowded not only with his children, but also with maids and footmen toting armloads of bedding and doing some last-minute cleaning.

“Welcome home, Jasper dear!” Mrs. Thorpe cast an anxious glance at Evangeline as she greeted her son-in-law. “You look well.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Mr. Chase stooped to kiss his mother-in-law on the cheek. “I hope all this fuss is not on my account. I would hate to think myself a guest in my own home.”

Then perhaps he ought to
live
here and
visit
Manchester rather than the other way around. Evangeline bit her tongue to keep from saying what she had so often thought.

“It's not for you, Papa,” cried Alfie before his grandmother could answer. “It's for the real guests. We're going to have a party!”

“A party?” A sharp note crept into Mr. Chase's deep North County voice. “What sort of party?”

“A house party, of course,” Mrs. Thorpe replied in a cheerful tone as forced as her smile. Lately she'd grown worried that her son-in-law would not approve of their plans. “Only a very small one. A handful of friends who might enjoy spending a few weeks in this beautiful countryside.”

Judging by the look on his face, Mrs. Thorpe had been right.

Mr. Chase spied Evangeline and fixed her with a glare that might have driven his mother-in-law to tears. “Did you know about this?”

Evangeline refused to be intimidated. During her miserable girlhood years at the Pendergast School for Orphaned Daughters of the Clergy, she had often stood up to harsh teachers and bullies who had picked on her friends. She'd learned not to betray any sign of weakness they might exploit. But the controlled fury in Jasper Chase's blue-gray eyes reminded her of the North Sea before a storm.

“Of course I knew.” She tilted her chin defiantly. “The house party was
my
idea.”

Beneath her intrepid facade, Evangeline tried to stifle an unexpected quiver of fear.

What had provoked that? She questioned her uncharacteristic response.

Mr. Chase was a tall man with broad shoulders and a powerful build. His dark hair and full dark brows could easily make him look severe. His features were handsome, but in a rugged way that did not seem entirely civilized.

But did she expect her employer to erupt in violence because she had vexed him? Hardly! In the six years since she had come to Amberwood to teach his children, Evangeline had never once seen him lose his temper. Not even with the older boys, who could be a handful at times. Perhaps it was seeing his control threaten to slip at last that shook her.

Or perhaps it was something even more unexpected she spied behind the anger in his eyes. He looked at her as if she had betrayed him.

“Reverend Mr. Brookes will be coming.” Mrs. Thorpe's hands fluttered like a pair of small pale birds. “And Mr. Webster. You must remember him. I'm certain they will be delighted to see you again, Jasper dear.”

Clearly his mother-in-law hoped it would ease Mr. Chase's annoyance to hear that his old friend and her late husband's business partner would be among the guests. Evangeline appreciated her efforts to smooth things over.

It seemed to work. At least it gave Mr. Chase a moment to recover his composure. Some of the blazing intensity faded from his eyes.

“Of course I remember Piers Webster, Mama. I used to see him quite often in Manchester. Miss Fairfax, might I have a word with you in private?”

Others might have quailed at the threat of a private interview with their displeased employer, but Evangeline relaxed a little. Mr. Chase was welcome to rail at her all he liked as long as his children were not around to hear and become upset. The girls and Owen already looked a little anxious.

“Certainly, sir,” she replied in an unruffled tone that she hoped would reassure them. Then she signaled to the nursemaid. “Children, go up to the nursery with Jane and get your hands and faces washed for tea. I shall be along as soon as I finish talking to your father.”

Emma tugged Rosie toward the stairs. “Are you going to take tea with us, Papa?” she asked.

“Of course, my love.” All trace of annoyance vanished from his face, replaced by a comforting smile, for which Evangeline was grateful. “I wouldn't miss it. I hope there will be plenty to eat. My long ride in the fresh air has given me an appetite.”

Not for the first time, Evangeline asked herself why a man who so obviously doted on his children could spend so much time away from them. She was only their governess, yet the thought of leaving her young pupils was the one blight upon her plans for the future.

The children headed off, Matthew and Alfie at a headlong run while the other three followed at a more sedate pace.

The smile quickly faded from Mr. Chase's lips as he turned and stalked toward his study. Evangeline marched after him with her back straight and her head high. What was the worst her employer could do to her, after all—dismiss her? She had been
trying
to leave Amberwood Hall for nearly two years!

When she stepped into Mr. Chase's study, he had already taken a position behind his writing table with his hands clasped behind his back, glowering at her.

Evangeline closed the study door and began to talk at once, before her employer had a chance. “I hope you wanted to speak to me about my replacement, sir. You promised faithfully at Easter that you would engage a new governess as soon as possible. That was more than three months ago.”

“I know when Easter was, Miss Fairfax.” Her words seemed to take a little of the steam out of his overheated engine. “But I do not recall making any such promises. I am a very busy man. British industry is still trying to recover after the war and between last year's poor harvest and those misbegotten Corn Laws…”

“All the more reason why a new charity school is so desperately needed.” Evangeline had long since run out of sympathy with Mr. Chase's business difficulties. “The patrons of the school have been very patient with me, as I have tried to be with you. But we cannot delay indefinitely while there are children who need our help.”

The moment she'd received the letter from her old friend Hannah Fletcher, Evangeline had known this new charity school she'd been invited to set up was the Lord's calling. Her late mother had often told her the Almighty had some great purpose in store for her. When she'd been sent away to the Pendergast School, with its deprivations and petty tyranny masquerading as charity, that belief had helped Evangeline look to the future. She had tried to think of every hunger pang, chill and punishment as a lesson, training her for the work she would undertake one day.

It had been more difficult to continue believing in her future purpose after she left school to work as a humble governess. Surely this could not be the great service her mother had foreseen for her—teaching spoiled daughters of wealthy families a few superficial accomplishments. Raising the Chase children after their mother's death had made Evangeline feel she might have found her vocation at last. But when she learned of her friends' plans to endow a new charity school, she knew that was what she had been preparing for her whole life. She could no longer postpone her destiny to suit Jasper Chase's convenience.

His gruff voice broke in upon her thoughts. “There are children in this house who need you, Miss Fairfax. Or does
their
welfare not matter?”

“Of course it matters!” A surge of affection and protectiveness rose in Evangeline's heart. “At least it does to me. That is why I gave you so much time to hire them a new governess. Your refusal to use that time makes me question your commitment to your children, as well as your respect for me.”

“I do respect you!” Mr. Chase insisted. “I would not have entrusted you with the care of my children otherwise. It is
because
I respect and value you as their governess that I do not want my children to lose you.”

Was that true? His reply took Evangeline aback. All this time, she had taken his delays as a sign that he did not consider her needs worthy of his attention. Yet he claimed the opposite.

“I shall be sorry to leave them, too.” The words caught in her throat, like tiny, sharp fish bones. Though she looked forward to the important responsibility of founding a new school, she had tried not to dwell on the prospect of leaving her young pupils.

“That's settled, then. You will stay.” The relief in Mr. Chase's tone made Evangeline almost wish it were true. “And I will raise your salary.”

“I do not want more money!” She threw up her hands. “And I do not believe it will be difficult to find a replacement. Have you tried at all?”

Her employer's hesitation gave her the answer she'd suspected. “You have not. Not a single inquiry among the other mill owners or even a notice in the newspaper?”

“I kept hoping you would change your mind.” His look of remorse reminded Evangeline so much of his son Alfie, she found it difficult to stay angry with him…until he promptly changed the subject. “But that is not what I asked you here to discuss, Miss Fairfax. Would you kindly explain what possessed you to invite a bevy of strangers to stay at my house when I am trying to enjoy a quiet holiday with my children?”

She had wondered how long it would take him to get back to that. Part of her regretted intruding on the children's scarce time with their father, but she reminded herself it was he who had driven her to such desperate measures. “They are not
all
strangers. You heard Mrs. Thorpe. At least two gentlemen of your acquaintance will be among the party.”

“Do not split hairs, Miss Fairfax. You know what I mean. These people will not be family.”

That was true, Evangeline acknowledged privately. But she desperately hoped one of the guests at this house party might
become
a member of the Chase family.

Jasper brought his arms from behind his back to cross in front of his chest. “I am disappointed in you, Miss Fairfax.”

His comment made her start. A complicated mixture of emotions played over her vivid features. Her full red lips compressed into a stubborn frown, but a shadow of guilt darkened her warm brown eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

He ought to tread cautiously in case the lady decided to pack her bags and storm away, leaving him stranded and the children bereft. But he resented the way she'd turned this discussion back upon him then evaded his question with a quibble about its wording. “Never in the six years of our acquaintance have I known you to be anything less than direct and truthful with me.”

“Nor have I been, sir.”

“Sometimes a little too direct, perhaps.” Hard as he tried, Jasper could not keep one corner of his lips from arching slightly. “But I much prefer that to being deceived.”

Her expressive dark brows flew up. “Deceived? I would never…! How can you accuse me of…?”

Her indignation did not sway Jasper, for he sensed the lady was protesting too much. “You forget, Miss Fairfax, I have spent many years in the world of commerce. I have learned to recognize when a person is keeping something from me. I suspect you have acquired the same skill in the schoolroom.”

By the time he finished speaking she had grown calm again. Perhaps she recognized the futility of trying to conceal something he wanted to know. “I believe I have, sir.”

Her gaze fell—a sure sign of an uneasy conscience.

“There is something you are not telling me about this house party.” Jasper did not pose it as a question but stated it as a fact. “Now kindly save us both time by telling me what I want to know.”

“Oh, very well.” She inhaled a deep breath then raised her head to meet his gaze. “It is no great matter so you might as well hear.”