One year later

Celia was exhausted, but she knew there was no way she could go home without stopping in to say hello to Lacey first. The daylight was warm and hazy in the early fall air, bringing just the faintest scent of crisp wind and snow, a whisper of what would be coming in the next few months.

Lacey entered the door herself, giving Celia a delighted squeal and an embrace, which Celia, laughing, received generously, the two friends holding each for a moment before letting go.

“Celia!” she cried, leading Celia through the front foyer of her new house. After marrying Deputy Urquhart six months prior, Lacey Urquhart had poured her heart and soul into creating the most perfect living space for herself in the deputy’s previously bare-bones home. He had explained to Lonnie and Celia not long after the wedding that he was quite used to living with only his hunting dog, Duck, and that having Lacey around was going to take some getting used to.

“Trust me,” he said, sounding sheepish. “I welcome the change. I’ve been wanting a woman’s touch around the place for ages,”

A woman’s touch was exactly what Lacey had given the place to, adding fresh curtains and blankets, covering the walls with art, and planting a beautiful flower garden alongside the front walkway, rivaling the beauty of the town gardens themselves.

“This house is beautiful,” Celia breathed, meaning every word. The sunlight streamed into the open window, casting the entire home in a buttery yellow glow. Freshly built wooden furniture sat all over the home, a wedding gift courtesy of Lacey’s brother. It was all covered in a rich mahogany finish, reminding Celia of cleanliness and warm, fresh cookies and Christmastime. “I love the furniture John built you.”

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Lacey said reverently, running one thumb along the side of a perfectly crafted end table. “John really outdid himself this time, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” Celia agreed, loving the way the smell of cedar permeated everything. Maybe it was time to call on John and see if he’d build the furniture for her and Lonnie’s newest room, she thought with a smile.

“Well, enough about me and my brother!” Lacey said, flapping her hands about. “I have gossip for you, Celia Underwood.”

She motioned for Celia to have a seat, which Celia did, laughing.

“Oh, Lacey,” she said gayly. “You always have gossip, don’t you?”

“I guess,” Lacey responded impatiently. “But this is important gossip, Celia. It concerns you. Er, well, not really. But it concerns Henry.”

“Oh, is that right?” Celia responded lightly, lifting her eyebrows to the ceiling. “Hmm. What is he up to these days?”

“Nothing and you know it,” Lacey said back, matching Celia’s raised eyebrows with a look of her own. “He’s still in jail, of course. And, he’s recently been transferred all the way to Sing Sing, in New York!”

“Really,” Celia said, smiling at Felicity, who had bustled in to serve them tea.

Following the repossession of the Irvin ranch, Celia had made sure that all of the former employees of the Irvin household were able to get steady employment. Felicity worked for Lacey now, and Timothy and Rosa had both gone to the Wright household since their cook and ranch hand had been close to retirement anyway. As for Lorna, she had gone to work as a nursery maid for Frances O’Donnell, who had just given birth to her newest child. While Celia missed having her friend around daily, she still faithfully met Lorna once a week for a walk around the town garden.

“Yes, really,” Lacey replied, eyeing Celia. “He’s fitting to serve a ten-year jail sentence for fraud, you know.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Celia said, sipping from her teacup. “He had been extorting those men and living off credit for years, after all.”

“Well, yes,” Lacey agreed. “We all know that now. But I’m wondering how long, exactly, you’ve known that.”

“You were there that night I found Henry’s book,” Celia replied innocently.

“Yes, but something tells me you knew about Henry’s devious ways for a lot longer than the rest of us,” Lacey said pointedly, giving Celia a look.

“Oh, Lacey,” Celia responded, still feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Hmmmm,” Lacey said, sipping her tea and eyeing Celia from over the rim. “If you say so, Celia Underwood.”

Celia just smiled back. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to keep her knowledge of Henry’s wicked ways a secret; after all, she had had many opportunities to tell her friends and peers that she had been right all along, that she had known the truth about Henry Irvin for a lot longer than she had let on.

But something kept her from speaking this truth aloud. Maybe it was her humbleness, her desire to leave the past in the past. More than anything, however, Celia realized that she simply did not care about Henry anymore. When she looked at her life, all she saw was the future, and what that future held.

Absently running one hand over her stomach, she turned back towards Lacey and drained the rest of her tea. She gave her friend a smile and stood. “I’d better be getting home, Lacey. Lonnie will be waiting.”

“Oh, isn’t he always?” Lacey teased back.

“Yes,” Celia said quietly, almost to herself. “Yes, he is.”

*****

Lonnie arrived home before his wife, which he had been expecting. She had told him earlier that day that she would be calling on Lacey before coming home, and not to worry. Lonnie didn’t worry much these days at all, he was realizing. Having Celia around meant he was always at ease, always comfortable.

Always home.

Humming, he began to pull out an embroidered tablecloth for dinner, admiring the tiny flowers Rosa had stitched on herself as a wedding gift. He hoped Celia was going to make chili, which was his favorite of her many dishes. He had been surprised at what a good cook she was when they had first gotten married. Now, he was no longer surprised, instead of letting her daily meals fill him up and slowly expand his waistline.

His stomach growled as he smoothed out the edges of the tablecloth, his mind on a big, steaming bowl of chili. Just as he was thinking about it, he heard the clomping of hooves coming up the drive, meaning that Celia was home.

Despite his protests, Celia had insisted on learning to ride the carriage, and was now an old pro at it, guiding Roger with both a gentle and firm hand. Lonnie had relinquished the ownership of Roger entirely to his wife, instead of purchasing Henry’s old mustang, which he’d officially now renamed Daisy.

Celia burst through the front door, giving Lonnie a wide, easy smile as she did so.

I could see that smile every day for the rest of my life, Lonnie thought as he gazed back lovingly. Hopefully, I’ll get to.

“Darling,” Celia said cheerfully, leaning forward to kiss Lonnie on the cheek. Even after a year, Lonnie still sometimes didn’t believe his luck, could have never imagined that one day all of Celia’s looks, touches, and kisses would be falling squarely on him.

“Celia,” he said back warmly and then hesitated. Of course, he had heard the news about Henry; everyone in town had. Celia most likely had too, but he didn’t want to bring down her joyous mood with talk of her former groom.

Like always, however, it appeared that Celia could read his mind. She pulled off her overcoat, handing it to Lonnie, who hung it on the rack beside the door.

“So,” she said, barely glancing at him. “You heard the news about Henry, did you?”

“I did,” he said hesitantly. “What did you think of it?”

“You want to know something, Lonnie?” she said, coming closer to him. “When I heard he was going to prison for ten years, I thought I would feel … vindicated. Overjoyed. Something. But you know what I felt?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Celia said, her eyes dancing triumphantly. “I felt absolute positively, nothing at all. I don’t care about him anymore; I don’t care what happens to him, or where he goes in this life or the next. And that has been the best feeling of them all.” She reached up to peck him a second time on the cheek, her lips warm and soft against his skin. “I just don’t have room to care anymore. I care too much about other things. About my father, about you  .about … .” Celia pulled away then, her smile widening but also growing slightly nervous.

“About what?” Lonnie asked, bridging the gap between them once more.

“About … this…” she whispered, placing her hand on her stomach, her eyes widening towards his knowingly.

It took Lonnie a moment to understand what Celia was saying, but once he did, he let out an excited cry, immediately dropping to his knees so he could kiss Celia’s belly, which was still deceivingly flat.

I’m going to be a father, he thought dizzyingly. It’s really happening.

His father’s face danced through his head, followed by Clay’s.

I won’t be like my father, he thought, scooping Celia up into his arms while she squealed with delight. Or Clay, for that matter. I’ll be the best parts of both of them. And best of all, I’ll be me.

         He gazed down at his wife, at his beautiful, smart, amazing wife, that he got to wake up to every morning and fall asleep beside every night. And now, she would be giving him the greatest gift of all.

“I’m so glad you came to White Bear Creek,” Lonnie whispered, brushing a stray lock out of Celia’s face. “I’m so glad you came into my life.”

“Oh, Lonnie,” Celia whispered, reaching up to kiss him softly on the lips. Even after a year, Lonnie still felt goosebumps pushing through his skin every time Celia kissed him. “I am too.” She paused for a second, her eyes dancing. “You needed me, after all,” she teased.

“I did,” he confirmed, reaching forward to kiss her once more. “I really did.”

Lonnie used his boot to push open the front door, carrying Celia straight onto the front porch while she giggled. They both stared into the fields, towards the mountains, towards the setting sun, their future stretching in front of them as far as they could see.

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