“Can You Nurse Him Just for Once”? the Cowboy Pleaded — And the Obese Girl Held the Baby Close

Chapter 9

Summer turned to autumn. The leaves changed color, painting the ranch in shades of gold and red. The harvest was good — the garden had produced more than they could eat, and Thomas had sold the surplus at the market in a neighboring county, where no one knew their story.

Grace was growing fast. She was four months old now, alert and curious, grabbing at everything within reach. She had Thomas’s eyes and Sarah’s smile, and whenever Norah looked at her, she felt a love so fierce it almost hurt.

“She’s going to be a handful,” Thomas said one evening, watching Grace try to stuff her entire fist into her mouth.

“Like her father.”

“Hey.” He grinned. “I’m not a handful. I’m a… a challenge.”

Norah laughed. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

They were sitting on the porch, the way they did every evening now. It had become their ritual — a quiet hour before bed, watching the sun go down, talking about nothing and everything.

“Can I ask you something?” Thomas said.

“Of course.”

“Do you ever regret it? Coming here?”

Norah considered the question carefully. “I regret that I had to lose everything to find you. I regret that my baby died, that your wife died, that we had to suffer so much before we found each other.” She paused. “But I don’t regret a single moment since I walked through that door.”

Thomas was quiet for a long moment. “I used to think God was punishing me. For my temper. For the fight with the preacher. For not being able to save Sarah.” He looked at her. “But now I think He was leading me here. To you.”

Norah leaned her head on his shoulder. “I think He was leading me here too.”

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the stars appear one by one.

“What do you want for Grace?” Norah asked eventually.

Thomas thought about it. “I want her to be happy. I want her to know she’s loved. I want her to grow up knowing that she’s enough, exactly as she is.” He turned to Norah. “The way you’ve taught me.”

Norah’s heart swelled. “I want her to be brave. To stand up for what’s right. To love fiercely and without fear.”

“She’ll have you to teach her.”

“She’ll have both of us.”

That winter was the coldest in a decade.

Snow fell early and stayed late, blanketing the ranch in a thick layer of white. The roads became impassable, cutting them off from the town for weeks at a time. But they were prepared. Thomas had stocked the barn with hay and feed. Norah had preserved enough vegetables to last until spring. The woodpile was high, and the fireplace was warm.

They spent the long evenings huddled together, Grace between them, reading from the Bible or telling stories from their childhoods. Norah learned that Thomas had once wanted to be a veterinarian, that he had a gift with animals. Thomas learned that Norah had dreamed of opening a bakery, that she had been saving money for it before she was married off to a man who crushed every dream she had.

“We’ll open one,” Thomas said one night.

“What?”

“A bakery. When Grace is older. We’ll build it onto the house. You can sell bread and pies to the whole county.”

Norah laughed. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” He took her hand. “I want to give you everything you ever wanted. Everything that was taken from you.”

“Thomas…”

“I mean it. You deserve the world, Norah. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving it to you.”

She kissed him, deep and warm, the fire crackling beside them, the snow falling silently outside.