“Hey, I’m his godfather. I know these things.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “And I’m his godmother and I know about these things, too.”
“You’re jealous because he didn’t smile for you first.”
“Well, I have news for you, Frank Hennessey. Little Joe most certainly did smile for me.” The moment the words left Dovie’s mouth, she snapped it closed, knowing she’d said more than she’d intended. Frank recognized that look of hers all too well.
“You’ve been to see him again,” he charged. “I suppose you bought him another toy.”
“I didn’t,” she denied.
The flush in her cheeks claimed otherwise. “All right, all right, I bought him a designer bib. Oh, Frank, it was the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen.”
His eyes narrowed as though he disapproved, but in reality, he was having the time of his life spoiling this youngster, too. Amy and Wade had made him and Dovie the official godparents—and little Joe’s unofficial grandparents. Christmas was a month away, and they’d already bought him more presents than Santa delivered to the entire state. They seemed unable to stop themselves. It was as though an entire new world had opened up to them with the birth of this child. They were crazy about the baby and crazy about each other, too.
“The bib was a policeman’s uniform complete with badge,” Dovie told him. “You aren’t really angry, are you, sweetheart?”
How could he be? Frank loved this child as though he were his own flesh and blood. He suspected a great deal of this was the result of being present at little Joe’s birth, but that was only part of the reason.
Frank had waited until he was sixty years old to marry, and once he’d committed himself to Dovie he wanted to kick himself for leaving it this late. He recalled with clarity the talk he’d had with his wife some months previously. Dovie had lamented the fact that they would never be grandparents.
He hadn’t been much of a churchgoer, but after he’d married, he’d started attending services with her. He remembered one of Wade’s sermons about Abraham and Sarah becoming parents well after their childbearing years. In some ways the story reminded him of what had happened to him and Dovie. Amy had arrived in Promise needing a family, and she’d adopted them and they’d adopted her. All the love they had in their hearts was lavished on Amy, Wade and little Joe.
“He’s an incredible baby,” Frank said.
“Incredible,” Dovie echoed.
Frank slipped his arm around her waist. “You’re pretty incredible yourself, Dovie Hennessey.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He threw back his head and hooted with laughter.
Dovie set her basket of vegetables aside and threw her arms around his middle. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she gazed up at him. “I’m happy, so very happy.”
“I am, too.” The transition to married life had been much easier than Frank had suspected. He’d fought long and hard, convinced he was too set in his ways to give up bachelor-hood—and his stubbornness had nearly cost him the only woman he’d ever truly loved.
Frank hugged Dovie close. “We’re going to spoil that baby rotten!” he declared.
“But, Frank, we’re going to have so much fun doing it.”
Frank could see that once again his wife was right.
THREE MONTHS AFTER CHRISTMAS Savannah Smith ventured into Bitter End. What she found caused her to race back to the ranch and breathlessly inform her husband. Laredo suggested she tell Grady and Caroline that same afternoon, which she did. The news burst from her in a rush of excitement.
“You’re sure about this?” Grady asked.
“Grady, I know what I saw.”
Caroline and five-month-old Roy came to visit the following day. “You went to Bitter End?” her best friend asked. “Good grief, Savannah, what would ever make you go back there?”
“The anniversary of my first visit. It was two years ago, March twentieth, and I wanted to see if the rosebush I’d planted in the cemetery had survived.”
Savannah’s whole life had changed that day two years earlier when she found a weary cowboy walking down the side of a country road and offered him a ride. She’d never done anything like it before and she never would again. For the first and only time in her life, she’d picked up a hitchhiker, and before the year was out she’d married him. She and Laredo Smith had become partners in the Yellow Rose Ranch and partners for life.
“Grady phoned and told Cal,” Caroline said, cradling her son in her arms.
“I talked to Nell and Travis, too,” Savannah said.
“Someone must have phoned and told Wade.”
“Glen and Ellie, I think,” Laredo suggested.
“Wade suggested we all meet out there first thing in the morning.”
“You’re going, aren’t you?” Caroline asked.
Laredo and Savannah looked at each other and nodded. “We wouldn’t miss it,” he told her.
Fourteen of them planned to gather in the ghost town and see the strange phenomenon for themselves. Each one had been to the town at some point or other in the past two years. Each for his or her own reasons.
Savannah felt a certain responsibility to be present, since she was the person who’d started it all two years ago when she’d gone to Bitter End in search of lost roses. She was also the person who’d stumbled upon this latest wonder.
They met and parked their vehicles outside the town. Then each couple walked down the steep incline onto the dirt road that led into the center of town.
Savannah watched and smiled at their reactions, knowing that the same sense of astonishment must have shown on her face twenty-four hours earlier.
Grady’s arm was around Caroline’s shoulder. Roy was asleep in his carrier. Little Joe, too. Savannah knew that in the years to come these two boys would be best friends. Much the same way Grady and Glen and Cal had been from grade school onward.
“It’s true,” Ellie whispered. Her pregnancy was obvious now. Glen’s hand held hers.
“It’s a miracle,” Nell whispered, gazing around her.
All around them, in every nook and cranny, against the corral, by the old water trough and even near the large rock, roses bloomed. Their scent wafted about, perfuming the air, their muted colors bringing life and beauty to a once dead place. Pansies winked from small patches of earth—gardens a century ago—and bluebonnets covered the hillside, waving bright blue petals in the breeze.
Perhaps most incredible of all was the dead tree in the center of town. Up from the trunk had sprung new life, green shoots. In time the new tree would overshadow the old; life would vanquish death.
“Who can explain such a thing?” Frank asked, awestruck.
Savannah understood his awe; she felt the same way herself. Naturally there’d be a logical explanation for what had happened if they sought one. Most likely a freshwater spring had broken free.
“I don’t know that I can explain it,” Travis said, looking thoughtful. “But I can speculate about what might have caused this.”
Everyone turned to him. “Bitter End’s come full circle now,” he said.
“Why now?” Ellie wanted to know.
“Well, keep in mind that I’m a writer—a storyteller—and I like events to have a structure. I like a sense of completion.” Travis smiled at Amy and Wade. “But if my guess is right, we have little Joe to thank for all this.”
“Joe?” Amy gazed down on her sleeping son.
“Amy, too,” Dovie added, slipping her arm around the young mother’s waist.
“A preacher’s son died in Bitter End all those years ago,” Travis said. “And now a preacher’s son has been born here. So, like I said, everything has come full circle.”
“Full circle,” Savannah whispered, knowing instinctively that this was indeed what had happened.
“The curse is gone.”
Savannah smiled. “And in its place is a profusion of beauty.”
A town in bloom, filled with pro
mises for the future. Promises for life.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1215-6
HEART OF TEXAS VOL. 3
Copyright © 2008 by MIRA Books.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:
NELL’S COWBOY
Copyright © 1998 by Debbie Macomber.
LONE STAR BABY
Copyright © 1998 by Debbie Macomber.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Debbie Macomber, Heart of Texas Vol. 3
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