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

Chapter 9

They were married a month later, on a June morning when the wild roses were blooming on the hillsides and the sky was a blue so deep it looked like it went on forever.

Lydia wore a simple white dress with wildflowers in her hair. Elias wore his best suit, freshly pressed, his face clean-shaven. Caleb stood beside him as best man, grinning like he had personally orchestrated the entire thing — which, in a way, he had.

The chapel was full. Sarah Chen and Mrs. Patterson sat in the front row. The children from the schoolhouse had made paper flowers. Even Barnaby attended, perched on a handmade stand Elias had built, mercifully quiet during the ceremony — though he did let out a piercing wolf whistle when Elias kissed his bride.

The first year of marriage was full of adjustments and compromises and moments of pure happiness. Elias taught Lydia to ride a horse — she fell off at least a dozen times before getting the hang of it. Lydia taught Elias to dance — he claimed to hate it, but she caught him humming the waltz while he worked in his shop.

They expanded the saddle business together, with Lydia handling the books and correspondence while Elias focused on the craftsmanship. The house that had stood empty and cold for so long filled with warmth and life and laughter.

And then, in the spring of 1880, Lydia told Elias she was expecting a baby.

His initial reaction was pure terror. The memories of losing Anna during childbirth came flooding back, and for several days, he was nearly paralyzed with fear. He barely let Lydia lift anything heavier than a teacup, much to her amusement and exasperation.

“I’m pregnant, not made of glass,” she told him more than once.

But she never seriously objected to his hovering. She understood, perhaps better than anyone, the weight of his fears.

When Lydia went into labor on a cool October evening, Elias was convinced he was going to lose his mind. Caleb had to physically restrain him from bursting into the bedroom every five minutes to check on her.

The hours crawled by with agonizing slowness. Every sound from the bedroom made Elias’s heart stop.

But then, just as dawn was breaking over the mountains, he heard the strong, healthy cry of a newborn baby.

The midwife emerged a few minutes later with a smile on her face. “You have a son, Mr. Croft. And your wife is doing just fine.”

Elias’s knees nearly buckled with relief. Caleb steadied him as he made his way into the bedroom, where Lydia was propped up against the pillows, looking exhausted but radiant. In her arms was a tiny bundle wrapped in soft blankets.

“Come meet your son,” Lydia said softly.

Elias approached on shaking legs and looked down at the baby for the first time. He was perfect — tiny and red-faced and absolutely perfect. Dark hair stuck up from his head in every direction, and when he opened his eyes, they were the same green as Lydia’s.

“Can I hold him?” Elias asked, his voice rough with emotion.

Lydia carefully transferred the baby into his arms, and Elias held his son with the utmost care, marveling at how something so small could exist, could be so perfect.

“He’s beautiful,” Elias whispered. “You’re both beautiful.”