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Summer, 1856 – Santa Fe, New Mexico
Caleb wished it was time to take his evening walk with his wife already.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t yet noon.
He leaned against the adobe wall, watching the small gathering in their courtyard.
He was exhausted after his long morning helping Clara in the kitchen. Every time he underestimated the effort it took to prepare a decent meal, he would lend Clara a hand and spend the rest of the day exhausted.
They had started before the light cleared the mountains. The adobe held the cold longer than a wood house would have, and Clara moved through the kitchen wrapped in a shawl, setting out bowls and pans while the fire caught.
Caleb had carried water in from the well while the courtyard was still quiet, split kindling down to slivers so the fire would burn even, and hauled the heavier pots onto the hearth when Clara asked.
He spent most of the time grinding chile at the table, steady and thorough, his hands aching by the time she nodded that it was enough. When she set him to kneading, he worked the dough without complaint, leaning his weight into it until it went smooth and elastic, dusting flour only when she told him to.
He was tired, but he understood why she enjoyed the process.
The kitchen filled slowly. First with the smell of yeast waking, then coffee, then the deeper heat of beans and meat cooking down. By midmorning the counters were crowded, the oven warm and holding, and the house had begun to smell like something meant to be shared. Caleb had washed his hands, wiped down the table, and stepped back to admire their work.
Then the guests had arrived to celebrate Jonah’s birthday.
The fare had since been picked over, scattered across the long wooden table he’d constructed for the gathering that morning.
Bread was torn into rough, uneven pieces, crumbs clinging to the cloth napkins, and the last of the bizcochitos lay in a small, haphazard pile, their scent faint but persistent in the warm air. The rice pudding, once carefully dusted with cinnamon, had been carried off in spoons and small dishes, now smeared across children’s lips.
The Langley twins, three years old now, were just tall enough to reach for the desserts without help. Rowan and Ella’s young daughter wasn’t walking yet, but her blanket on the ground was sticky with the same sugar on her rosy lips. Their parents sat nearby, enjoying the time, talking with neighbors.
The adobe courtyard smelled of smoke from the hearth, roasted meat, and chile, and it sounded with the muted chatter of a gathering winding down.
Rose McGraw’s sister Caroline and her husband had just left after a morning playing with the nephew they’d grown to love since meeting him three years ago.
After grieving her sister’s death, Caroline had been there for Clara, inviting Jonah into their house full of children when she needed time without a toddler clinging to her skirts. Caleb did his best to help out, but he also enjoyed time alone with his wife.
He watched her talking with Nora, bouncing Nora’s cranky son on her knee as Nora wiped spilled chocolate from the table. She had a brow raised at something the other woman was saying. Her skepticism turned to humor a moment later, and her loose copper hair caught the sun as she laughed.
“Colt With Hunger,” said a deep voice.
Caleb jerked his attention to the house door that had opened next to him.
“Iron Hawk,” he greeted. “Where did you disappear to?”
The big man shrugged, his single, long braid swaying with the motion. “I took the boy to see my horse.”
Only then did Caleb see Jonah on Iron Hawk’s hip. Newly four years old today, his eyelids were at half mast and his dark hair was sticking up at an awkward angle. The day had been exciting for him.
He blinked at Caleb and held out his little hand. “Pa,” he said.
Caleb took his adopted son from the Native, cradling his heavy weight in his arms.
Legally, after Silas McGraw was shot dead, Jonah McGraw had become an orphan. Custody would have fallen to Caroline and her husband, but soon after they settled in Santa Fe, Clara requested for an official change of guardianship, taking Jonah into their home permanently.
She had raised Jonah for a year as a sister, but for the rest of his life Jonah would know Caleb and
Clara as Ma and Pa.
He looked down at the boy, and laughed when Jonah yawned, bumping his head against Caleb’s chin.
“Do you want to go lay down?”
Jonah shook his head in rebellion. “It’s my birthday. I want Lydie,” he countered.
“Lydia is busy,” he said, though he wasn’t actually certain where she’d run off to.
Jonah’s face contorted and Caleb was braced for when his eyes welled up.
“Oh, you are tired,” Caleb murmured. He excused himself from Iron Hawk’s side and went into the house.
In the bedroom Lydia and Jonah shared, Caleb laid him down on a small feather mattress, slipping tiny boots off kicking feet.
“I don’t want to sleep,” he cried.
“I know, why don’t you just close your eyes instead?”
Jonah shook his head adamantly. Caleb kneeled by the mattress, rubbing the boy’s soft, dark head while he protested through tears. A few minutes later Jonah was breathing steadily, his eyes flickering behind closed lids.
Caleb laid a kiss on his forehead.
Jonah was becoming more argumentative by the day, but his needs were still as simple as Lydia’s had been at the same age. Caleb suspected he’d have to start bringing Jonah with him while he worked around the ranch before long. Give him some learning to put his mind to.
It was something he regretted not doing with Lydia sooner.
As he began building the ranching business, Caleb had included Lydia in decisions like he never had while they were leading wagons between Saint Louis and Santa Fe. He had come to respect her opinion, even if she needed a bit of guidance from time to time.
He couldn’t be more proud of his children, he thought, running a thumb over Jonah’s sleep-consternated forehead.
Standing quietly, Caleb left the children’s room and joined the adults outside once more. It looked like Nora and her son had taken off, which left only a few friends and neighbors who were cleaning up.
Caleb was about to join them when he caught sight of Iron Hawk still against the side of the house.
“Will you be staying again tonight?” he asked. He’d been their guest for a week now, and Caleb was happy to see and accommodate his old friend.
“No, I think I will ride away once I bid your woman goodbye.”
Cale nodded. “Your wife will be missing you.” The old Native grinned, but Caleb could tell the time apart cost him. He hated to be away for long the older he got, but Caleb knew he made his yearly visits for a reason.
“You can tell Old Wolf I’m doing well.”
The big man looked over at him. “He would ride out here himself, but my older brother is young no longer.”
Caleb nodded. “I appreciate his concern, but truly, me and Lydia have found peace. Can’t you tell?”
Iron Hawk grunted. “Even my old eyes can tell. But Old Wolf is stubborn.”
“Then next year, instead of you coming out, why don’t we head up to see him?” Caleb suggested. “We haven’t been to Arkansas since we left. I think Clara is ready to face it now. She’s been missing her friends for a while.”
The idea seemed to please Iron Hawk. “You will meet my daughter. My daughter, younger than your son.”
The old Native laughed, and Caleb allowed a smile.
It was a strange family, but it had proven a strong one.
“Old Wolf will be happy to see his granddaughter again,” said Iron Hawk. “But you’ll have to wait longer than a year, is that not right, Colt With Hunger?” The big man winked.
Caleb drew his brows together just as Clara made a noise from behind him. She had walked up on them and was looking at Iron Hawk with poorly veiled annoyance.
“I haven’t told him yet, you old busybody,” she muttered, making Iron Hawk’s eyes go wide before he laughed.
Looking at Caleb, she smiled with a twinge of embarrassment. “I suppose it’s time we spoke, why don’t we take our evening walk now?”
“Now?” Caleb would never turn down a walk with his wife. He looked at Iron Hawk. “Can you make sure everything is cleaned up?”
“Of course, Colt With Hunger.” Iron Hawk peered around. Just Martha and Rowan remained, clearing off the table. Ella had taken their daughter out to calm her cries.
The Native went off to see what he could do, leaving Caleb alone with his wife.
Her smile had turned from embarrassed to something softer. “Come,” she took his arm.
As they closed the courtyard gate behind them, Caleb asked, “what’s going on? What does Iron Hawk know?”
She was silent for a moment as they began to walk. They passed the clay pots where Lydia kept her succulents and Clara’s small, fenced herb garden. The hard-packed clay beneath their feet crunched softly, and once they cleared the house, sagebrush dotted the bare land around the corral and barn, thinning as it stretched toward the mountains on the horizon.
“I was waiting to tell you, because I wanted to be sure first. Iron Hawk happened to catch me emptying my stomach in the outhouse this morning.”
Caleb stopped suddenly, taking her shoulder and gently turning her toward him. “Are you sick?” he asked, eyes searching her face.
She shook her head, a small smile on her lips.
Caleb took a quick breath, letting her go. “Are we…?”
She nodded, eyes shining.
“Clara,” he whispered as he pulled her in for a tight hug, his heart swelling in his chest.
A baby. They would be having a baby.
“What about the bakery?” he asked, pulling away, his mind racing. “Or the ranch? I’ll have to hire a foreman.”
“Then hire one.” She laughed. “Lydia has asked to start working at the bakery after school. She wants to learn. I’ve already discussed wages with her.”
“She has?” Caleb didn’t realize he could be any more proud of his family. “I’ll hire a foreman, then.” He grinned. “And here I was just thinking I needed to be spending more time with Jonah. Now I’ll have it.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Clara smiled up at him, her palms on his cheeks. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, darlin’,” he murmured back. “Wait.” He pulled away. “Do the children know? We need to tell Lydia and Jonah.”
He started pulling her back to the house, but her laughter stopped him.
“Caleb, let’s leave Lydia alone for the time being.”
“Why? What’s she doing?”
With a mischievous smirk he recognized, his wife led him around the courtyard. Before walking around the back corner, she stopped and peeked around it, then motioned for him to do the same.
Between two small juniper trees between the house and the barn was a bench swing. On it was Lydia, hands tucked together in her lap, skirts neatly folded, cheeks flushed.
Next to her was the butcher’s son.
Caleb’s eyes widened, then he groaned, looking at Clara. “What do we do?” he asked in a low voice.
Clara chuckled. “Nothing. I’ll speak to her tonight, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Caleb,” she warned.
Caleb took one last glance at the two young people before pulling away.
He leaned his back to the adobe wall of the courtyard. Behind it, muffled voices chatted away. Ella had rejoined Rowan and Martha, Caleb thought, recognizing the voices.
Clara stood in front of him, cast in the shadow of the tall, thick walls.
“Are you alright?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.
“I think so,” he breathed. “It’s just gone by so fast.”
“I know. Should we take a break tonight? Why don’t we take the children on a picnic?”
“To the willow by the river?” he asked.
She smiled, looping her arms around his neck. “To the willow by the river. We’ll tell them then.”
Caleb caught her smile with his lips, drinking it in. “We’ll tell them then,” he murmured.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Courageous Hearts of the West", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Dear readers, I hope you enjoyed the book and its Extended Epilogue. I look forward to reading your comments. Thank you!
Oh my, what a wonderful story. I laughed and teared up multiple times. This story reminds me, no matter the date and years between the century written, love is love. Have fun reading the novel.
What a beautiful thing to say — thank you so much! 😊 The fact that the story made you both laugh and tear up means I hit exactly what I was going for. And you said it perfectly — love truly is love, no matter the time or era. That timeless quality is something I always try to capture in my writing, so hearing that it came through for you is incredibly special.
Loved reading this book. A great read
Thank you so much — short, sweet and it made me smile! I’m so glad you loved it! ❤️
I read another story based on this but less complicated. This one was hard to follow
Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to share your thoughts! I completely understand — this story does have a lot of layers, and that was very much intentional. I wanted to challenge readers a little and reward those who stick with it. I hope that by the end, the complexity felt worth it. I appreciate your patience with it!
I really Enjoyed this book.
Thank you, my dear Carol! So glad you enjoyed it!