Rebecca could barely keep from skipping when she left the doctor’s office the next morning. She had to find Clay! Hurrying back to the hotel, she tapped on the connecting door, and opened it.
A startled maid was making up the bed.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m looking for Mr. Fraser.”
“He just checked out, ma’am,” she said.
Her heart sank to her stomach. “How long ago?”
“Not more than fifteen minutes.”
Rebecca began to feel panicky, and she hurried back outside. Her worst fear was realized when she saw that Scott and his men were on the verge of moving out. Clay was driving her old wagon, with her beloved mules harnessed to them.
So he was leaving—and without even saying goodbye. In her heart she had hoped he wouldn’t go back to Virginia, but this wasn’t the time to stand on vain hopes or false pride. She loved him too much to let him go without telling him. Then, she hoped, he would ask her to go with him. He’d said he didn’t want a divorce, that he was willing to give their marriage a chance. And whether he meant it or not, she was going to take him at his word.
She was about to call out to him, when he pulled out of the line and reined up in front of the hotel. Her spirits buoyed when he waved to Scott, and the wagon master waved back. If that wasn’t a good-bye wave, then she was the Queen of England.
For over four months, concealing their true feelings for each other had come easily to both of them, and she tried to appear nonchalant when he caught sight of her.
“That’s a fine-looking rig and handsome team of mules you have there. Where are you heading with them?”
“Southeast of here. A place called the Napa Valley. I’ve got some good friends there.”
“Could you use some company?”
She saw his start of pleasure, which he quickly concealed. “I’m not looking for company, lady. I’m looking for a wife—in the full sense of the word.”
Joy surged through her in a floodtide, and she felt as if she were floating on air. She’d never known such a feeling of exhilaration. It was grand. It was glorious. She wanted to throw her arms around him, and shout, Yes! Yes!
“You see, I’ll need a lot of help if I settle down there and build a house.”
“Didn’t you once tell me your great-great-greatgranddaddy built his plantation by himself?”
He arched a brow. “Guess I must have failed to mention that great-great-great-grandma was right there with him.”
“I guess you did,” she said, her lips curving into a suppressed grin.
“You have to understand that choosing the woman you want to be your wife takes a great deal of consideration. It takes a clear head.”
“And I’m sure you’ll keep a clear head when you do.”
“You bet. There’s a lot more to choosing a wife than choosing a horse or a pair of boots.”
“There is indeed.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“There’d be a lot of hard work, she can’t be afraid of that.”
Nodding, Rebecca agreed. “Hard work never hurt anyone.”
“And she’d have to be a good cook. It’s important she knows how to make a decent pot of coffee.”
“Ranks right up there with a good horse and pair of boots.”
“And I’d expect her to be able to make dried beef taste like French cuisine, or prepare a buffalo steak tender enough to cut with a fork.”
“I don’t think they have buffalo in California, Clay.”
He grinned, and her toes curled. “That’s good, because I never want to see one of those stinking animals again.”
“Sounds to me like you’ll be one fortunate fellow when you find her,” Rebecca said, suppressing her own grin. “What other qualities must this miraculous woman possess?”
“I’d kind of like to hear her hum when she cooks, and talk to animals because she knows they’ve got feelings, too.”
“I suspect so. And what would she have to look like?”
“Hmm, what would she have to look like?” He gazed up at the sky in deep contemplation. “I had always imagined she’d be tall and willowy, with dark hair and blue eyes. But I guess if she had all the other qualities I mentioned—especially brewing a decent pot of coffee—I’d be satisfied if the top of her head only comes up to my chin, that her hair’s the color of honey, and her lips taste just as sweet. She can even have green eyes as light as jade when she’s feeling happy or as dark as emerald when she’s romantically inclined. Oh, and, that’s another very important point. I’d want her in my bed when I need her… or when she needs me.”
Rebecca was bursting with excitement. If he didn’t get down and kiss her soon, she was likely to climb up on that box and throw herself into his arms.
“You haven’t mentioned children. Isn’t that part of being a wife in the full sense of the word?” Rebecca asked.
“Of course, she’d have to want children as much as I do. I’m not getting any younger, so I’d want to start a family once I get settled.”
“How about before you get settled? You see, I pretty much fit all those other qualities you mentioned, but I already come with a baby.”
“A baby!”
The game had just ended.
Clay jumped down from the box and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’re… we’re… going to have a baby!” He pulled her into his arms joyously and kissed her.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, sweetheart? Were you just going to let me ride away?”
“I’d never have kept it from you, Clay. I’ve only suspected it for the past week, and the doctor confirmed it this morning. But even if I weren’t expecting a baby, I’d already made up my mind to find you. I couldn’t let you leave without admitting that I love you and wanted us to be together, no matter where we lived.”
“You’d do that for me? God, sweetheart, I love you,” he murmured through the kisses he rained on her face and eyes. “I’m so crazy in love with you that sometimes I feel like I’m going to burst apart if I can’t see you, touch you.” He reclaimed her lips in a deep kiss that left them both hungry for more.
“Becky, Etta and Tom’s love taught me how fragile life can be. That time is too precious to deny what’s in our hearts. Let’s not waste another moment of our time together. We’ve been through so much together, and now that we’re having a baby, we have to start building on that.
“I love you, Becky, and I want us to spend whatever time we have on this earth together. Because I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without you.”
“Then why didn’t you say so sooner, Clay Fraser?” she demanded. “Do you have any idea how long I yearned to hear you say that?”
“Why would you doubt it? How could you not know it?”
“There are some things a woman must be told. Oh, Clay, I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you from the time I picked you out of all those hundreds of other men in Independence. And I’ve agonized over the way I tricked you into marrying me.”
“But if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here now, in my arms. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
“But can you ever trust me again?”
“I’ll let you know when I put the question to our grandchildren.”
“Our grandchildren—what a beautiful sound.” She sighed in contentment. “Oh, Clay, I’m so happy to be having this baby. What could be a greater gift from God than bearing a child conceived in our love?”
He tipped up her chin with a finger. “You understand, sweetheart, that child will be part Reb.”
“All that matters to me is that the child will be part you. And if you want our children raised in Virginia, my love, we’ll go back there. I’ll be content wherever you’ll be the happiest.”
“No, we’ll stay here and start new lives, just like the rest of our friends. No more living for—or in—the past. We’ve got our future ahead of us right here in California.” He kissed her again.
Her heart overflowing with joy, mischief gleamed in her eyes as she looked at him. “Sounds like it’s certainly worth… discussing.”
He chuckled and grinned back at her. “And my guess is that the
discussing
will take most of the day.”
“Possibly even into the night.”
Pulling her back into his arms, he kissed her again, then cupped her cheeks between his hands in a tender caress. “Oh, Lord, I love you, Becky. And I’ve made so many mistakes.”
“We both have, my love.”
“Do you still have your hotel room?” She nodded. “Well, then, it’s high time we get on to the discussing, wouldn’t you say?”
Sighing, she slipped her arms around his neck. “I thought you’d never get around to it. It’s no wonder you Rebs lost the war.”
Throwing back his head in laughter, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her into the hotel.
Later, as she lay in his arms, Becky asked, “Clay, were you really going to ride off with that wagon train and leave me behind?”
“No, but I wasn’t sure what would happen. For the first time in your life, you had the opportunity to become financially independent, to run your own business. Part of me wanted to give you that chance, then return when your six-month lease was up in the hope of convincing you to give it up and go back with me. But I really wanted you to choose me—so I bought back our wagon and mules in the hope that I could bribe you back with them.”
“You don’t fool me anymore, Clay. You bought them because you knew it broke my heart to see them go. But what makes you think that a bakery is what I’ve hoped for? It would be a way to support myself, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life baking for other people. My dream is to find a man who loves me, and to have his children.”
She sighed deeply. “Clay, I’ll always express my own opinions and make my own decisions. I’ll never rely on other people to do my thinking for me. That’s what independence really is—and the only one I have to prove it to is myself.”
Her eyes sparkled with spunkiness. “So why would you think an independent thinker like me would give up the finest, noblest, most honorable man she’s ever met—and whom she happens to love beyond reasoning—just to prove her independence? That would only prove stupidity.”
He chuckled. “You must have been listening to Garth.”
Rebecca felt a deep sense of peace and happiness. “All I want is a life with you, Clay. My independence, your honor and integrity… aren’t these the very qualities we love in each other? That the baby within me now carries? Oh, Clay, between the two of us, we’re going to raise such remarkable children.”
He brought her hand to his lips, and noticed the ring on her finger. She hadn’t worn one since Eagle Claw had kidnapped her. Upon a closer inspection of it, he broke into a wide smile.
“That’s not Charley’s ring,” he said.
“Of course not,” she said tenderly. “I’m wearing the ring my husband gave me.”
Merriment filled her voice in a loving tease. “So what do you say, Reb; are we going to follow your dream and build that vineyard together?”
“You bet we are. But that’s my dream, Becky; what about yours?”
She reached up and caressed his cheek, her love for him sparkling through the mist in her eyes.
“I’ve already found mine, my love.”