One Year Later

Theda walked Alana to the door of her clinic, one hand resting lightly on the young woman’s rounded belly as they paused at the steps.

“Two weeks,” Theda smiled warmly. “Maybe less, if I’m reading things right.” She’d been helping Alana prepare for her baby’s birth for the last few months. She’d helped a lot of mothers over the last year, including herself. 

Alana laughed, pressing both hands against the small of her back. “I keep telling myself that it is almost over.”

“You’re doing everything right. Rest when you can. Send for me the moment anything feels different, day or night.” Theda squeezed her arm. “Your baby will be here soon enough.” 

“Thank you, Theda.” Alana’s eyes twinkled with relief. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Goodbye, Alana, I’ll see you next time.”

She watched Alana make her way carefully down the path toward the wagon waiting at the gate. Theda turned back to the small room that Jem and Phineas had built for her to use as a clinic. It was a safe space she used to see expectant mothers, and sometimes patients who needed medical care and didn’t know where else to go.

Hannah giggled, waving her arms from her little basket, gurgling at the morning light. Theda couldn’t hold back her smile. She’d never imagined she would become a mother so fast, and yet, Hannah had been born exactly a year after her marriage to Jem. 

Theda lifted her up, settled her against one hip, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Come on, little one. Papa’s waiting for his breakfast.” Calling Jem ‘Papa’ still made her heart fill with warmth.

The walk to the main cabin was short. Smoke curled up from the chimney already, and by the time Theda climbed the porch steps, her stomach was growling in anticipation. She’d left biscuits cooking in the oven. 

She sat Hannah in her chair at the table and moved to the stove, and set about serving the breakfast she’d made before helping Alana. Just when she was setting the plates on the table, she heard Jem’s boots stomping in the entrance way. He always tried to shake off the extra dirt and mud when he came inside, but was rarely successful. 

“Something smells good in here,” he said with a big grin when he reached the kitchen. He crossed the room and came straight to her. His arms went around her waist briefly before he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into his touch, savoring the smell of pine wood wafting off his coat. 

“Morning,” he murmured against her hair.

“Morning.” She giggled, turning to face him and kissing him on the chin. 

He let her go and crossed to Hannah’s chair, scooping her out of it with ease. Theda loved watching him be a father. Hannah squealed in delight as he swung her in a slow circle, her little legs kicking, her laughter filling the kitchen.

“There’s my girl,” he grinned, before settling her back into her chair and dropping into his own seat at the table. Theda settled into her chair, and Jem said grace. Every time they prayed, Theda thought of all the things she had to be thankful for. One of them was Jem’s strong faith, which had only grown over the last year.

“Harvest supper’s tonight,” he said, reaching for his coffee. “Are you looking forward to it?”

“Very much.” She glanced at Hannah, who was eyeing the food hungrily. She’d only started eating a bit of food here and there, but she loved every bit of it. “Leland and Della will be coming. Hard to believe they’ve already been married six months.”

“Feels like longer, in a good way.” Jem smiled. “Oren’s grown another inch since I last saw him. Boy’s going to be taller than Leland before the year’s out.”

“And Phineas is bringing Martha.” Theda wasn’t sure what to think of the quiet young woman her brother had started seeing, but she had decided she would give the benefit of the doubt, at least until she knew her better. 

Jem raised an eyebrow. “Still going steady, is he?”

“If things go well, I have a feeling we’ll be hearing an announcement before too long.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Jem chuckled. “I’m happy for him. Phineas deserves someone to keep him company.” 

They ate in comfortable quiet for a moment, Hannah babbling happily between them, reaching for anything within arm’s reach.

Jem reached across the table and brushed a loose strand of hair back from her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her jaw for a moment.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Theda smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. 

“You tell me every day.”

“I plan to keep doing it.” He leaned back in his chair, looking at her with the same steady, unguarded affection she’d come to take for granted. “Every single day, for as long as I live.”

She reached across the table and took his hand. God had filled her life with blessings and continued to pour down new ones every day. 

Jem ran his fingers over the letter in his hand. It had been burning a hole in his pocket all day since he’d picked it up at the post office. He’d written Ransom letters for the past six months. Once a month, without fail. He’d tried to start a conversation, to try and convince his brother that he still cared in some way. 

He hadn’t expected a response, so when there had been one at the post office, he wasn’t sure what to think. He hadn’t gotten up the nerve to open it. 

People were already arriving for the Harvest dinner. He should be outside, helping Theda welcome them. But instead, he had to know what was in the letter. He knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else until he read it. He slowly tore it open. 

He recognized Ransom’s hand on the front of it. Careful, deliberate letters. 

Through the window, he could see the yard filling slowly with people. Theda stood near the gate, wrapping Della in a tight hug, both of them laughing about something. The sight of Theda warmed his chest, filled him with courage, and prompted him to do what he knew he had to.

He unfolded the pages.

Josiah,

I don’t know if you’ll want to read this, and I won’t blame you if you throw it in the fire before you get past the first line. I’ve thought about what to say for a long while now, and I still don’t have the right words for it, so I’ll just say what I have.

I’m sorry for what I put you through. All of it. Not just that last morning in the pass, though I’m sorry for that more than anything. I’m sorry for every year before it, every time I told myself I was protecting you when really I was just keeping you close because I didn’t know how to be anything without you there.

There’s a reverend who comes through here most weeks. I didn’t want to talk to him at first. I’ve never had much use for that kind of thing, you know that. But he kept coming, and eventually I started listening, mostly because there wasn’t much else to do in here besides listen. He’s been showing me things in the Bible. Talking about grace, mostly. I don’t know that there’s much of that left for a man like me. I’ve done things I can’t take back, and I’m not asking you to tell me otherwise.

But I’m glad you found your way out, brother. I mean that. I’ve read every one of your letters, and I’ve come to see I’m wrong. It was I who was a coward. Whatever you’ve built out there, whoever you’ve become, I hope it’s everything I never managed to give you. I hope she’s good to you. I imagine she must be.

I don’t expect your forgiveness.

Ransom

Jem swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions rushing through him at the words written by his brother. They were words he’d longed to hear for so long; it was hard to believe they were actually from Ransom. 

He wanted to be angry and wanted to hold onto every year of resentment. He also felt hope. Hope he had a brother out there he could build a relationship with. There was an inkling of warmth at the idea that he still had family, that all was not lost. And most of all, the apology. He’d never imagined he would live to see the day when his brother apologized. 

He folded the letter carefully and set it aside, then stood and walked out onto the porch. He had a wife and a daughter, friends who needed his focus. He would have time to sort through his complicated feelings for Ransom. He knew deep down, Ransom’s letter was only the beginning. 

Phineas stood on the porch, leaning against the railing, looking out over the gathering crowd. His figure was covered in shadow, so much so that Jem almost jumped when he spotted him. 

“Something wrong?” Jem asked. “What are you doing waiting back here?”

Phineas glanced over at him. “Not wrong, exactly.” He straightened up. “I was actually waiting for you. The community board approached me this week. They want you to serve as a trail advisor, guiding incoming wagon trains through the dangerous stretches. Your knowledge of the route, they said, could save lives. They wanted me to ask if you were interested.”

Jem drew in a sharp breath. Another trip on the trail. It sounded exciting for sure, but was it something that would fit into his current life?

“That’s no small thing,” he finally managed.

“No.” Phineas looked back out over the yard. “I told them I’d ask you, and that you’d let them know.”

Jem was quiet for a moment.

“I’ll talk to Theda,” It would be as much her decision as it was his. He couldn’t leave her or Hanna behind, which meant if he did go, then he wasn’t going to go alone. 

“How about you, wouldn’t you be a good trail guide? Perhaps if Theda is agreeable, I’m certain a wagon train would benefit from a nurse being with us.” 

A smile crossed Phineas’ face. “Funny you should mention that. I could be convinced to make the journey again. With the three of us, I’d say it would be a rather safe wagon train after all.” 

“It would be nice, another adventure before we fully settle down.” His gaze grew distant. 

Jem laughed. 

“What about Martha?”

Phineas smiled. “She has family in the city. I feel like she could be convinced to make the trip.” 

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to see what God has in store for us.” As Jem left the porch, he realized that the idea was growing on him. He crossed the clearing toward where Theda sat near Della and Leland, Hannah balanced on her knee, the fiddle music drifting through the gathering crowd.

Jem stopped in front of her, bowed slightly, and held out his hand.

“Would you dance with me?” He remembered how they’d danced for the first time together on the wagon train. It was still one of his favorite memories. 

Theda’s cheeks colored, and she glanced at Della, who was already reaching for Hannah. Theda handed their daughter over and placed her hand in his. Warmth filled him as he pulled her to her feet. 

He led her out toward the open space where a few couples had already begun moving to the music and pulled her close.

“You are not the best dancer,” Theda said with a giggle.

“I know, but I’m determined not to let it stop me.” Jem chuckled. 

She laughed harder, leaning close to him. 

The fiddle played on, drifting into the night. Jem held his wife close. Whatever adventures came next, he was ready for them. 

THE END