Late September 1885

A late afternoon breeze rustled through the high prairie grasses, their stalks newly green, the sky above a brilliant blue that seem to go on forever, nary a cloud to be seen. Lottie stepped from the house, smiling down at the five-month-old baby in her arms, a beautiful, dark-haired boy named Thomas John Brooks after his two grandfathers.

She loved this time of day, when all the chores were done, supper warming on the stove, some of the ranch hands coming in from a long day on the range, and best of all, the sight of her husband emerging from the barn after finishing his own chores and heading to the house. She settled down on the top step of the porch with a smile, gazing down at her sleeping babe. She couldn’t have been happier if she tried.

Her child had been born in April, just after the last snowfall and before wild spring flowers began to push upward from where they’d hidden all winter. He’d arrived with a squall that made Hank shout for joy in the other room, where he waited with her father. Thomas had whooped and Eli had started to laugh, little Beth a bit more reserved, but not by much.

Hank sank down on the step aside her and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he gently brushed his fingers over his son’s dark brown, almost black hair with the barest hint of copper among its strands.

“How’s my little man today?”

At the sound of his papa’s voice, little Thomas opened his light blue, almost gray eyes and stared up at his father. “Now you’ve gone and done it,” she murmured, a smile curving her lips. Just as the boy started a cry, she handed him to his father and he immediately quieted. Hank took the boy with a chuckle of laughter and nestled the infant close to his chest. The babe settled and closed his eyes once more.

“How was your day?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Moved a good chunk of the herd to the north pasture.” He eyed the sky. “Caleb and the hands have been busy spreading them out a bit to take advantage of as much grazing as possible before winter.” He shook his head. “This past winter was hard.”

He was right about that. Her first winter on the Montana prairie had been one filled with surprises for Lottie. It hadn’t snowed as much as she expected until Hank explained that it was too blasted cold to even snow. The winter months had been bitter and sharp and the wind on any exposed skin felt like the slash of a knife blade. They’d lost about a dozen cattle, but fortunately not more than that.

Lottie eyed the barn, whose brand-new boards had weathered a bit over the year since it’s raising. They’d had their first wedding anniversary, celebrating with Agnes and Thomas, with Caleb and the ranch hands. Nothing fancy, but Hank had grilled steaks and roasted a chicken over an open fire in the yard. Agnes had complemented Lottie’s biscuits, but murmured that her pie crust could be a little lighter, though she’d said that with a smile.

She loved being here, loved those months of being with child, until the last couple when she’d felt so big and ungainly and needed Hank or someone else’s help to get up from bed or out of a chair. Though the pain had been nothing like she’d ever felt before, she’d loved giving birth to Thomas and looked forward to the next. She felt the joy of a happy, sometimes raucous house. She loved hearing Eli and Beth laughing as they played outside.

Hank had built a couple of new rooms onto the house to make room for what was sure to be a growing family and she was glad he had. Now Eli had his own room and so did Beth, at least for now. While the baby slept in a cradle in his parent’s room, he would soon be old enough to sleep in the extra room which she had converted into a nursery of sorts.

Sounds of laughter emerged from the corral and Lottie turned toward the sound and smiled. Eli was trying to show Beth how to throw a lasso over a fence post. Eli’s landed on the first try every time. Hank grunted.

“He’s good at that. By next summer, he’ll be riding with me to take care of the herd.”

She nodded. “Well, you can certainly use another hand in addition to the six you hired on last this past spring.”

As it turned out, the small ranch and its lands that Trager had defaulted on had finally gone up for sale the previous year, after all the legalities had been sorted out. Trager was serving a ten- year prison sentence up in Helena, and then he’d be sent back east to stand trial for fraud in Missouri or Ohio, she couldn’t remember which and didn’t much care.

Since their marriage, Hank had carefully planned and managed to grow his herd to number nearly three thousand head. He’d sold nearly a thousand of them this past summer, much to Hank’s satisfaction, and his money problems had been settled. He never rested though. He continued to plan carefully, allowed for the unexpected, and had done well for himself and his ranch hands. Caleb had been given a pay raise and five acres of land. Hank and several friends from town had built a cabin for the foreman, much to his dismay. The bunkhouse had been enlarged and improved and now held nearly a dozen year-round ranch hands who cared for the growing herd of cattle on Hank’s still growing property.

She felt a nudge on her arm and look to see where Hank was looking, then spied her father striding down the path from his cabin, Agnes beside him. They held hands. She loved the idea of her father being in love. She just wished he would agree to allow Hank to build him a larger place.

“I got enough room for now, Lottie,” he’d always say. “I’m more than comfortable.”

Perhaps now he’d change his mind. Hank seemed to read her thoughts.

“I think there’ll be a wedding soon,” he remarked.

“I’ve been expecting it,” she agreed. “Maybe in the spring. It’s about time.” She laughed softly. “And I think he’d let you build him a house of their own now, if he agrees. He loves it here on the ranch, and I heard from the grapevine that Agnes is planning to sell her house.”

Hank turned to her with a lifted eyebrow. “Really? She would move away from town?”

“If my father stays here, then that’s where she wants to be,” Lottie replied. “If they ever take that next step.”

Hank chuckled. “They’re from an older generation, where courting year or more was nothing unusual.”

“I suppose,” she laughed softly. “And it doesn’t really matter. I’m glad they’ve taken their time.” She paused. “I know my father will always love my mother, but I’m glad he’s found that he can love again, to give his heart to someone again.”

Hank nodded. “And Agnes has been rewarded for her patience.” He turned to her. “No settling for her, no siree. She was waiting for the best.”

Lottie couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s words. “Such a sweet talker, aren’t you?”

“Good you think I am, but you should hear Caleb these days.”

“Caleb?”

Hank nodded. “You haven’t notice Caleb is smiling a lot more often, humming and in a better mood?”

“Yes, but I thought it was just because he was happy with his raise and new cabin.”

Hank laughed. “Actually is, but especially because he met the new teacher who just arrived in town a few days ago. She’s very pretty, he says.”

Lottie smiled. “Well, wouldn’t that be something?”

Hank rose, holding the baby in one arm and reaching his hand down for. She placed hers in his and followed him as he silently strode around the porch and along the side of the house and toward the river and the grove of trees beyond, growing a short distance away. The sun slowly dipped to the west, settling over Pikes Peak, casting everything into gold, grayish and purple shadow. As they came to the place where Margaret was buried, the headstone caught the shadows of the dipping sun.

“Today was Margaret’s birthday,” he murmured.

“I know,” she said just as softly. “That’s why Agnes and I baked a cake for her today, and tonight, after supper, we’re going to each have a slice in her honor.” She turned to her husband. “I never met her, Hank, but I wish I could have. She would’ve been so proud of Eli, the way he protects Beth, the way he’s gotten her to laugh and play and trust again.”

Hank gazed down at her, his expression somber. “Yes, she would.”

“I think she would’ve been proud of you too, and what you’ve accomplished over the past few years.” She looked up at the darkening shadows and upward, where dusk slowly settled over the land in increments. “Sometimes I look up at the stars at night and I… I think of her watching down from heaven on us.” She paused, not quite sure how to express herself. “I hope she’s not disappointed in me, that she knows I’m trying to be the best wife to you that I can be, that I love you with my whole heart and soul.”

The baby gurgled as Hank glanced down at her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I have a feeling she’s happy for all of us, because that’s all she ever wanted for me, for Eli, and her sister.” He hesitated. “When you first came, Lottie, I felt so guilty for allowing you to stay, thinking that I was betraying her and her memory, but now I know that it was her spirit, her love that encouraged me to let you stay, and I can’t tell you how glad I am that I did.”

“You’re a good man, Hank, and God has blessed us both, has blessed all of us. As we move forward, we just have to remember that no matter what happens, no matter what comes, as long as we stand together, we can face anything.” She gazed down at the gravestone. “I think Margaret knew that too.”

She turned to Hank, who lifted his face toward the night sky, his eyes closed, and his lips moving silently. She smiled, watching as he cradled their little baby in his arms. Her husband looked to be at peace, not only with the past, but at the present and their future. Lottie leaned her head against his shoulder as they stood there, each with their own thoughts, the breeze shuffling over the grass.

Somewhere in the yard, Eli laughed and Beth shouted at him to hold still. One of the horses whinnied and she felt sure it was Phoebe, complaining because she hadn’t been ridden today. They stood there like that until lights glowed in the house. She heard her father’s booming laugh, and Agnes’ voice raised, scolding him over something. She smiled.

Everything felt right now. As they finally turned back to the house, leaving the bubbling water of the river behind, she looked up at the growing number of stars blanketing the eastern sky. Thank You God for every single one of the blessings You have bestowed upon me, for Hank and Eli, my father and Agnes, Beth and my little Thomas. Thank You for your belief and trust in me and bringing me where I belong.

Hand in hand, she walked beside her husband and into the yard, where he encouraged Beth and Eli to hurry up and wash up for supper. The children raced up the porch steps, she and Hank and little Thomas, into their loving home. Come what may, she would stand beside her husband and do everything she could to raise her family right, to enjoy what every day brought and have the strength to endure the harder times. She felt blessed, and before moving into the house, took one last look up at the dark sky and shining stars. Thank you, Margaret, for guiding my way with Hank. He will be loved and cherished ‘til death do us part, I guarantee that.

Raised voices and laughter met them as they stepped into the glow of their home, surrounded by lover and laughter.

THE END

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