The Grieving Cowboy Hadn’t Smiled In Years, Until A Clumsy Mail Order Bride Made Him Laugh Again

Chapter 10

The years passed like pages turning in a book. Henry — named after Lydia’s father — grew from an infant into a toddler into a boy, inheriting his mother’s clumsiness and his father’s determination. He was followed by a daughter named Margaret Rose, whom they called Rose, born with her father’s dark hair and her mother’s sunny disposition. And then there was Thomas, fearless and adventurous, who gave his parents heart attacks on a weekly basis.

The Croft house was never quiet. Never still. Never empty.

And Elias Croft, the man who had once gone three years without smiling, found himself smiling every single day.

He still visited Anna’s grave. He brought flowers and told her about his children, about the life he had built, about the happiness he had found. He no longer felt guilty about moving forward. He felt grateful — grateful that he had been given the chance to love deeply twice in one lifetime, something not everyone got to experience.

On their tenth wedding anniversary, Elias took Lydia back to the spot where he had proposed — a cottonwood tree overlooking the valley where they had shared their first picnic. They spread a blanket on the grass, and Lydia leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you ever regret it?” Elias asked. “Getting on that stagecoach, coming out here, finding out it was all based on lies?”

Lydia was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I had stayed in Boston. But no, I don’t regret coming here. Not for a single moment.”

“You tripped and fell on a water trough in front of half the town,” Elias reminded her.

“Yes, well, I made an impression. And I made you laugh. That alone made the entire journey worthwhile.”

Elias tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I was so lost. I didn’t even realize how lost until you showed up and started tripping over everything in sight.”

“I gave you a purpose,” Lydia teased. “Making sure I didn’t kill myself.”

“You gave me more than that,” Elias said seriously. “You gave me a reason to live again. You showed me that my heart was capable of more than just grief. You taught me how to be happy.”

Lydia turned in his arms so she could face him. “You did the same for me. I was so alone in Boston. I had no family. Coming here, building a life with you, having our children — it’s been everything I never knew I wanted.”

They kissed, slow and sweet, with the summer sun warm on their faces and the whole valley spread out below them.