"We are so proud of Elliott. He grows bigger and stronger every day and he
is not at all afraid of anything. His father says it is good because he
will need to be brave as we travel into the outback. The plans for the
mission and the school are ready. We will leave in the next ten days.
Praise the Lord."
Marston turned over the leaf of the small diary and read the words again. In the past six months he had read some part of the journal every day. He could recite entire pages of it from memory. And to think he had been unaware of its existence for most of his life. A shadow fell across the desk and he looked up.
Sam smiled down at him. "Tea's ready."
He stood up and took the tray out of her hands. "How many times must I tell you to call me first? In your condition," He kicked a stool out of the way and set the tea things on the low table. "You should not lift heavy objects."
"If you have your way, I'll be too weak to lift the baby when he arrives." But she smiled as she sat down and reached for her cup.
He dropped into the armchair and stretched his legs. He could not believe how happy he was. They had returned to the ranch determined to forget that horrible day and had succeeded admirably. Niall threw himself into learning about sheep and soon knew his way around Marston Ranch as well as his brothers, despite their head start of several weeks. The three of them were now fully determined to become sheepmen and never set foot in town ever again. Marston was proud of their interest and enthusiasm.
And Sam's recent announcement had put the final seal on their happiness.
"There was a letter from Molly in the last package." Between sips of the steaming beverage, Sam related the news. "She's happy at her sister's house, being a 'second grandmother' to all the little ones. I'm glad she's content now. It was so hard on her."
"We can put it behind us now." He didn't tell her about the letter he'd received in the same package from town, the one from Melvin Collins describing how Cal Torken was hung in the prison grounds for murder and attempted murder. It was finally over for all of them.
"I'd like to invite her to visit after the baby's arrived. She can give me lots of advice. It's been a lot of years since I helped with babies." She patted her stomach protectively.
"That is an excellent idea. I don't want you to exhaust yourself." He set down his cup and lifted his feet to the table edge, folding his arms behind his head with a contented sigh. "It's so good to be home where it's nice and quiet."
"Yes, dear. But don't relax just yet. Wait until dinner's over." Sam smiled mysteriously.
"Dinner? What's wrong with dinner? You're not doing the cooking are you?" He sat up with a jerk. "I don't want you in that overheated cookhouse any more."
"No, I'm not. But no one could remember whose turn it was and so when she offered to do it herself I couldn't really object."
"No! Please tell me it isn't." He closed his eyes in pain.
Even as he spoke, the front door crashed open and heavy footsteps pounded into the room. "Mister Marston! You got to come quick! It's Lushy and she's decided to make a special dinner for tonight."
Marston looked up with dread. "How special?"
"Well, she told Jake she needed the key to the storeroom for some brandy to make a special sauce and he gave it to her without thinking like and now there's all this smoke and we think you'd better come." Mick leaned against the door and sucked in a lungful of air.
Sam laughed and sat down on the arm of her husband's chair. "Like you said, darling, it's good to be home where it's nice and quiet." She laughed at his groan and kissed him tenderly on the nose.
Marston turned over the leaf of the small diary and read the words again. In the past six months he had read some part of the journal every day. He could recite entire pages of it from memory. And to think he had been unaware of its existence for most of his life. A shadow fell across the desk and he looked up.
Sam smiled down at him. "Tea's ready."
He stood up and took the tray out of her hands. "How many times must I tell you to call me first? In your condition," He kicked a stool out of the way and set the tea things on the low table. "You should not lift heavy objects."
"If you have your way, I'll be too weak to lift the baby when he arrives." But she smiled as she sat down and reached for her cup.
He dropped into the armchair and stretched his legs. He could not believe how happy he was. They had returned to the ranch determined to forget that horrible day and had succeeded admirably. Niall threw himself into learning about sheep and soon knew his way around Marston Ranch as well as his brothers, despite their head start of several weeks. The three of them were now fully determined to become sheepmen and never set foot in town ever again. Marston was proud of their interest and enthusiasm.
And Sam's recent announcement had put the final seal on their happiness.
"There was a letter from Molly in the last package." Between sips of the steaming beverage, Sam related the news. "She's happy at her sister's house, being a 'second grandmother' to all the little ones. I'm glad she's content now. It was so hard on her."
"We can put it behind us now." He didn't tell her about the letter he'd received in the same package from town, the one from Melvin Collins describing how Cal Torken was hung in the prison grounds for murder and attempted murder. It was finally over for all of them.
"I'd like to invite her to visit after the baby's arrived. She can give me lots of advice. It's been a lot of years since I helped with babies." She patted her stomach protectively.
"That is an excellent idea. I don't want you to exhaust yourself." He set down his cup and lifted his feet to the table edge, folding his arms behind his head with a contented sigh. "It's so good to be home where it's nice and quiet."
"Yes, dear. But don't relax just yet. Wait until dinner's over." Sam smiled mysteriously.
"Dinner? What's wrong with dinner? You're not doing the cooking are you?" He sat up with a jerk. "I don't want you in that overheated cookhouse any more."
"No, I'm not. But no one could remember whose turn it was and so when she offered to do it herself I couldn't really object."
"No! Please tell me it isn't." He closed his eyes in pain.
Even as he spoke, the front door crashed open and heavy footsteps pounded into the room. "Mister Marston! You got to come quick! It's Lushy and she's decided to make a special dinner for tonight."
Marston looked up with dread. "How special?"
"Well, she told Jake she needed the key to the storeroom for some brandy to make a special sauce and he gave it to her without thinking like and now there's all this smoke and we think you'd better come." Mick leaned against the door and sucked in a lungful of air.
Sam laughed and sat down on the arm of her husband's chair. "Like you said, darling, it's good to be home where it's nice and quiet." She laughed at his groan and kissed him tenderly on the nose.