Ten Years later:
Prologue
Diary entry:
June 1785
The year is 1785 it has been ten years since I have come to the colonies which are now knows as the United States of America. Which, I am now proud to call myself a citizen of. Who am I you may ask. I am Sara Phillips- Hiller a Journalist, wife and mother- to- be and soon- to – be published author. We live not too far from the Gazette offices. Which in ten years have grown tenfold. We are there almost every day though. In a way though they are like are second family. Moses in a way is like an honorary father. And Ben Franklin in a way is like our are all excited for the little one to be born in a few short months. The baby is due the day that James and I met. We all find that kind of funny and ironic.
James was afraid for are child when I would ride a horse so I told him that I would take a break for Journalism and would write a book. I have yet to tell him that the book is about how we meet and eventually fell in love. The look on his face I admit would be priceless. Plus to me the memories and experiences that I have experienced the last ten years are priceless. And moments in time that I will never forget until me dying breath this I swear to you.
I smile as I close my diary. "Sarah, my love what has got you all smiles?" James asked as I put my book away. "Oh nothing really, I was just thinking about the book that I'm writing my love." I said. As I said this James embraced me from behind, resting his hands on my engorged stomach. "How is our little one today?" James asked. "She is doing just fine. Though I fear and am excited that it might be more than one." I said. "I think you may be right but we will find out soon enough. But to be sure we can ask the midwife during our next appointment." James said.
"Why don't we go and see the others for dinner?" I asked. "Sure, let's go!" James exclaimed grabbing our coats. And being a gentleman and loving husband helped me into mine. It wasn't long before we were at the Gazette doors. And they opened as we were about to knock to reveal all of the people that we cared about standing before us.