Jillian Hart - Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set

The sight of her changed him. The faint, muffled lilt of her laughter penetrated the walls and seemed to burrow within him, touching his agonized heart. He swore he felt a hand on his shoulder, a touch of reassurance, but when he looked there was no one there, nothing but the snow.

The rending of his heart deepened. It felt as if he were breaking all the way to the bottom of his soul. He splayed a hand against the siding, holding himself up when the pain became excruciating. Tears burned behind his eyes, and he realized it was not tears, but feeling. Emotion, raw and pure and true. The last stone walls around his heart fell, tumbling and crashing into bits, leaving the broken emptiness within him exposed.

“Cole.” Mercy’s voice, muffled by the wall, drew him, and when he looked up she was crossing toward the door, her loving smile the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Or felt.

The door whisked open, and the warmth and light of home tumbled over him like grace. Mercy smiled up at him. “You’re home.”

“Pa!” two children cried out, turning to run at him, pounding across the room.

But his attention remained on Mercy, her quiet welcome saying so much more. When her hand lit on his sleeve, he felt everything. The gentle weight of her touch, the impact of her caring, the potential of her love. The world was no longer filled with ice and snow, but with merriment and hope, with children running to throw their arms around him and pull him into the house, talking over one another telling him about their day and the tree and the decorations.

The sensation lifted from his shoulder, leaving him alone, his heart whole. He realized the pain had been his heart coming to life, that he was no longer empty. That the pain was gone and Mercy was there, so he took hold of her hand. Her surprised gaze met his and without words, without the need for them, he knew she felt with her heart what he could not say.

Epilogue

Christmas Eve

“Look, Ma!” Amelia breathed incredulously at the blaze of lights gleaming through the church’s windows as the sleigh eased to a stop at the hitching post. “Everyone must have come for the wedding, just as I hoped. Oh, it’s gonna be beautiful. Just beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.” Mercy glanced behind her to the two children tucked into the backseat, bundled beneath warm furs to keep out the evening’s chill. “How could it be otherwise? Tonight we become a real family.”

“The best Christmas present ever,” Amelia declared.

George wearing his new suit, nodded enthusiastically, too overcome to speak.

Yes, this was the best Christmas present. Joy warmed her up, chasing away the icy winds and the snow drifting down from the heavens. She smiled at the man seated beside her, who took her hand in his.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, his tone rumbling with caring, with the kind of regard she’d never dreamed of finding. He chuckled. “We can delay a few more minutes, if you’re feeling nervous.”

“Not nervous. Not at all.” How did she begin to describe the way she felt? The moment when he’d walked through the door yesterday, his shadows gone, his heart whole and healed and shining in his eyes, she’d felt her world shift. Her soul had come alive as if for the first time. They’d decorated the tree together as a family. They’d laughed, they’d joked, they’d been closer than ever. And still were. “I can’t wait to become your wife.”

“I can’t wait, either.” His hand engulfing hers squeezed gently, letting her know he meant every word. His gaze fastened on hers, full of promise of a future made new. She saw the years roll by, laced with their children’s laughter, with love and togetherness. There would be more babies, happy memories to be made and above all, the devotion and tenderness of a man who loved her with all the depths of his heart.

Just the way she loved him.

“You kids go on inside,” Cole said with a wink. “I want to say a few things to your ma before we go in. There won’t be a chance, what with all those people Amelia invited to our wedding.”

“And they’re all waiting for you, Pa,” Amelia reminded him as she tossed off the robe. “C’mon, George. This will be mushy, anyway. We don’t want to hear it. Besides, there are some boys your age in the church, I’m sure. I’ll introduce you. They like to sled, too.”

“Okay!” George said, bouncing into the snow with her. “I’m hopin’ Santa brings me my own sled.”

“I have a good feeling he will,” Amelia answered, heading off in the snow at his side.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Cole said, rolling his eyes, although he knew Mercy had already chosen a sled from the store for George. It seemed he was going to have to learn to live with the sledding.

But as he gazed upon his remarkable wife-to-be, he didn’t mind. All he could ever want was right here. He folded back the robe and helped her down from the seat. The children ran ahead, leaving them behind in the darkness and snow. It drifted down like grace, like hope, and he could feel the change in his heart, the awareness of the grace he’d been too broken to feel. It was everywhere around him, sweet and saving and renewing. He was thankful it had renewed his heart. So very thankful.

Mercy had done that, too. He turned toward her, the calm places in his soul filling. She looked beautiful tonight, as a bride should, in a fancy green hat, bundled up warmly in her new gray coat and matching scarf and mittens. She took his breath away. She was his heart.

“What did you need to say to me?” she asked as he shook out Frosty’s blanket and covered him with it. Not one to be idle, she tethered the gelding to the hitching post, granting him several nose pats in the process.

“Oh, the usual thing a man says to the woman he’s about to marry.” He shrugged, bending to secure the buckle beneath Frosty’s belly. “This is a big step we’re about to take.”

“Yes, I’ve been certain about you from your first letter. I saw how much you loved your daughter, how glad you were I had a son.” She looked vulnerable with the snow tumbling all around her, airy and sweet, like little pieces of heaven. “But I never dreamed it would be as good as this.”

“Me, either.” Done with his task, he patted Frosty’s shoulder and turned toward his bride. Emotions—hope, faith, joy—filled him, but one outshone all the others for it was the most important of all. He drew her close, brushed snowflakes out of the wisps of gold framing her dear face. That emotion rushed through him without end, without limits. “I love you, Mercy.”

“I love you.” She gazed up at him, affection deepening her blue eyes, unmistakable and true. “I will always love you.”

“Not more than I will always love you.” He offered her his arm. “Let me escort you to the church. If you’re ready to marry me, that is.”

“I’d run if the walkway wasn’t so icy.” She looped her arm in his and they took off together, marching toward the light and merriment, to friends gathered to celebrate their marriage. Their real marriage. Not one of convenience. Not one of duty.

But of love. That was the best gift of all. Bliss filled her as she climbed up the steps and into the shelter of the church’s foyer, with Cole at her side. How wonderful he was, holding the door for her, helping her with her coat, hanging it up for her, gazing at her as if she was his greatest blessing.

No, bliss was too small of a word for what she felt, and for what waited her as his wife.

“What’s that?” Cole asked, gesturing toward the sprig of mistletoe pinned to her dress collar, tied with a thin red ribbon. “It looks like mistletoe.”

“Yes, it is.” She thought of the train conductor, Mr. Blake, and his kind wishes. Wherever he was, she wished him well. And as for the dear friend she’d made on the journey to Montana Territory, she prayed Maeve had found the same kind of unexpected happiness, that God was writing a happy ending for her and her daughter, too.