“I’ll pick for you.” Mercy grabbed one from its mother’s belly and deposited it in Georgina’s lap. “You like it?”
“Yes.” Georgina stroked the wet, shivering creature, and an overwhelming sense of contentment rushed through her. She glanced up at them—all the faces in the dim lantern light, the happy chatter, the puppy chirps and grunts, the glowing eyes that kept landing on her every second or two.My sweet God, how could I ever thank You for this?
She belonged.
She did not know what awaited them in America, here at this homestead. Whether the crops would be good or bad, whether the winters would be stinging or lulling, whether the table would always have plenty or some days not enough.
But she knew one thing.
The ones in this barn stall, tonight, would not forsake her. They were hers. They would stay. Whether the future was harsh or gentle, they loved her too much to ever disappear.
She need never fear being left again.
“Come here.” A husky voice whispered in her ear, as Simon’s cold fingers touched her chin and angled her face into his. His precious lips swam over hers. And she knew, for the thousandth time, why Simon Fancourt had haunted her heart for so many long years.
He was not a man to be forgotten.
Ever.
