Page 45 of His Little Stowaway

After we ride for a while I can’t stand the suspense I know is building with each minute we travel.

Sensing my mood, Pearce calls the horses to a halt, and pulling me closer to his side he asks if I’m warm enough.

I nod eagerly. “I’m warm. Never better, but…?” I ask and he smiles.

“Sorry for being so quiet, Brynn. I’m just trying to find the right words.”

“What is it, Pearce?” I ask, feeling almost worried now, but his hand on mine reassures me it’s nothing bad.

“You go first,” he grins. “I know you’ve got something to show me too,” he adds.

I figure now’s as good a time as any, and unfolding the little envelope I take out the ultrasound picture, moving my hand to show him when I see him opening a little velvet box.

“Don’t say anything. Not yet,” he whispers, watching my eyes as I gasp loudly, the brilliance of the diamond lighting up the night.

Like every twinkling star and snowflake has been gathered in one place, and not just for a moment but for all time.

“I had to wait to get the ring made,” he says bashfully, taking it carefully and slipping it onto my finger before he takes the tiny photograph.

Even tinier when it’s in his huge fingers.

It’s dark out, but with the lanterns reflecting through this huge diamond on my finger, I know he can see it fine.

I still don’t know which has me in more shock and awe. Having Pearce propose like this or having him see our baby for the first time.

“Is it?” Pearce asks, but I let him know I decided not to find out if it’s a boy or a girl. Not until I’d shown him.

“How did you...?” he asks, stunned for what’s only the second time I’ve seen him speechless.

“I do, by the way,” I let him know. “I do… Yes, Pearce. I’m telling you yes! I’ll marry you,” I almost squeal.

He recovers instantly and wiping what must be some melted snow from his cheek he kisses me.

He kisses me again and again, promising that this is all only ever gonna get better by the minute.

“I love you, Brynn. I love you…” he shivers, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you, Pearce,” I echo back to him, the ring already feeling like an old friend on my finger.

Extended Epilogue

One Year Later

Pearce

Brynn wanted to wait, ‘A year and a day’ from the night I proposed.

But once I explained that if we left it that long, well, Juliette would’ve been born without a married mom and dad.

As much as I was happy to wait, that whole year and a day tradition thing is quaint. Having our baby out of wedlock wasn’t. And Brynn agreed.

I tried to keep it quiet, there was the trial with Mike Whitman too around about the same time.

Somehow he’d gotten off the insider trading charges and decided to come after me by trying to sue me for whatever he never managed to steal in the first place.

He lost, and the share prices have been doubling every quarter since he’s been out of the picture.

Oh, and his little accomplice, that bimbo secretary?

As soon as she discovered he wasn’t worth a dime she disappeared. Somewhere south of the border last time someone mentioned it.

I hung my tie and shirt after all that. I’ve still got my name on the building, but we’ve got enough.

Our grandkids’ grandkids’ grandkids will have enough… And then some.

Getting married, settling down with a little one on the way, it’s way more nerve wracking, exciting, and rewarding than anything else I’ve ever known.

And Brynn as my wife is the same Brynn as always, but because of our sacred vows, our bond at the altar it’s more than special. I know we’ll renew those vows when the time’s right too.

Every year I said, but Brynn only smiled, reminding me that every time I touch her, every time I kiss her or tell her I love her we’re renewing those same vows.

If I do go to town, it’s only to the little blink and you’d miss it place a few miles north, and usually just to get supplies.

Once a week we’ll all pile in the truck and go for a picnic further downstream from the lake nearby, or sometimes just a few hundred feet from the house.

It all depends on how we’re feeling, but generally, it’s a slow and way more relaxing life than the one I used to have.

There’s still some hired help around the place, but we keep the housework and cooking to ourselves.

It’s early afternoon today, and I’m feeling the same butterflies I always get as I round the bend in the road, seeing the old red mailbox at the end of our two-mile driveway I could never bring myself to replace.

But it’s not the house, not the fresh air or even being so close to nature that gives me goosebumps.

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