Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
S ampson stood at the edge of the clearing, his good arm wrapped around Grace's slender waist as they gazed at the six freshly turned graves. The tiny mounds of earth seemed so small, so insignificant to mark the loss of a life.
Beside them, Dinah cradled baby Ruby close to her chest, her eyes red-rimmed. Around them, the rest of their family waited in reverent silence.
Sampson swallowed hard against the knot in his throat. Three days since the shootout that had taken Jedidiah and five of his men. Three days that felt like an eternity.
McPharland and his men had faded away, as Jess said he’d promised to do. Some of Two Stones braves found the stash of blasting powder—still useable, though that seemed hard to believe after so much travel and time in the snow.
For now, they’d decided to store it far enough away from the house that an accidental explosion couldn’t do damage. Maybe they’d stake a claim on the neighboring land where Two Stones had found the sapphires and start a new mine. It was far enough away that it would be hard to work from the main house.
Maybe he and Grace could build a home there. He’d become even better at mining after spending so many months heaving a pickax in McPharland’s caves.
But that could be a decision for later.
He glanced at Grace. Loose strands of her hair lifted in the light breeze. Her eyes, those captivating blue depths that had first drawn him in, were rimmed with red, evidence of the countless tears she'd spilled since that horrible moment. Yet even in her sorrow, there was a strength about her, a quiet resilience that made his chest clench.
The past three days had been a whirlwind of emotion. He and Grace had spent much of the time tucked away in their chamber. She’d talked…really talked. Telling stories from her years of growing up with only her mother in the little house in the valley. About her father’s visits each month, and the way his final actions tainted everything that had come before.
Sampson held her every time she wept, her slender frame shaking with the force of her sobs as she'd mourned the loss of the father she’d never truly had. The realization that Jedidiah's love had been a facade, that he'd turned against her in the end no show of regret or wavering commitment, had shattered something deep within her.
She’d even shared everything she knew about Ruby’s parents. About the quiet man who’d delivered supplies each month to her and her mother. About the mail-order bride he’d sent for, who was widowed and with child. How the last time he came with a delivery, he’d said his new wife died in childbirth, and he was at his wit’s end with caring for the babe who’d survived. A few women from the saloon were trying to help him, but he wasn’t sure how long he could manage. That had been the last time she saw the man before Ruby showed up on her doorstep.
Sampson could imagine the desperation of a man who suddenly found himself caring for a newborn, especially a babe as tiny and fragile as Ruby. And one look at Grace could easily convince a fellow she would be a loving and capable mother. Yet after holding Ruby even once, the thought of giving her up… He couldn’t imagine the turmoil that poor man must have struggled through.
But that decision had brought Ruby into Grace’s life, and now Sampson’s. And he could only be thankful.
Grace had asked about Sampson’s life, too, and she seemed to love all the stories of adventures and mishaps with his brothers and Two Stones. And Lucy, the sister who’d been gone so long now.
Jude’s voice broke the group’s stillness. “It’s hard to know what to say about deaths like these. God loved them, from the very beginning. And He never stopped loving them, trying to reach them, even to the end. Yet He gives us free choice to accept His love or push it away.”
Beneath his arm, Grace took in a shaky breath.
They’d talked about God these past few days, and what accepting His love could look like. She’d never known truly unconditional love—as much as it sounded like her mother had loved her, a few details Grace shared made him think her mother might have lived in fear, or perhaps a lingering melancholy.
Sampson couldn’t blame the woman, given the lonely life she’d been forced to live, to raise her only child alone. But Grace had never seen a model of the kind of love God offered.
God, help me be an example for her. Help me love her the way You love us. Unconditionally.
Jericho cleared his throat. "Lord, we ask for Your comfort and peace in this time of loss. May the darkest moments draw us closer to You. May we feel Your love in all its fullness."
Lillian began to sing, her clear soprano voice lifting the familiar words of "Amazing Grace" into the crisp winter air. The others joined in, their voices blending in the hymn.
Grace must not know the song, for she didn’t sing. But she leaned her head on his shoulder, her body warm and soft against his side. He tightened his arm around her.
This woman had burrowed so deep into his heart that he couldn’t imagine a life without her. When her grief eased some, he would ask to court her properly. He would work every day to show her the depth of his love and commitment.
Then, Lord willing, they would build a future together—here on the ranch, at the new claim, or wherever her heart desired. He would spend his days cherishing her and Ruby.
As the final notes of the hymn faded into the stillness, Grace turned to him. Her eyes glistened with tears, but they held a light too. A small smile even curved her lips.
Then she stepped away from him, reaching to take Ruby from Dinah’s arms.
"Hi there, sweet girl." Grace held her up so they could see eye to eye, then snuggled her close, nuzzling Ruby's downy head.
The baby gurgled in response, a sound of pure contentment.
His chest ached at the sight. His girls. Grace looked lighter already, as if a layer of sorrow had fallen away.
Thank You, Lord.
Jericho stepped up beside him, resting a hand on his good shoulder. “It’s good to see you up, looking more like yourself.”
Sampson nodded. “I feel more like myself.” He’d taken half the usual dose of laudanum this afternoon, and his ribs only ached if he moved wrong. His arm felt a lot better too. Maybe he could finally quit the stuff fully. It clouded his mind so much, and Grace and their daughter deserved the best of him.
His entire family, for that matter, though they’d continued to prove how much they still loved him, even at his worst.
Jericho squeezed his shoulder. “It’s awfully good to have you home.”
Sampson reached for strength to meet his gaze. “It’s good to be home.”
Jericho’s eyes held a gentle smile, the edges creasing a little. "It's a new day. A new beginning for all of us."
Sampson nodded, his throat tight. Maybe this was the time he needed to speak to all of his brothers. They all still lingered around the graves, talking in small clusters.
He raised his voice a little. “I need to apologize. To all of you.”
The group turned silent once more, all eyes on him.
He forced himself to keep talking. “For trusting the wrong people. For letting all our sapphires get stolen.” He met Jude’s gaze so he would see the extent of his regret. Jude only watched him, his head tipped almost in curiosity.
Sampson had to keep going, so he shifted his focus to Gil. “For thinking I could fix my mistakes by myself.”
“Just glad you came to your senses.” Miles broke in, interrupting his speech.
“Yep. You came around, and that’s all we care about.” This from Jonah, who’d moved beside him. Close enough to reach out and ruffle Sampson’s hair.
Sampson ducked away, and a glance at Jonah’s face showed a devilish twinkle that reminded him too much of the pranks they used to play as boys. A lighter time that tugged another layer of weight off his chest. Could his brothers really joke about this?
“Next time, just ask for help instead of joining the enemy. All right?” Jude stepped next to him and clamped a hand on his good shoulder. “We’re here. All of us. Anytime. For anything.” He gave a squeeze, then let go.
Sampson nodded. “Thanks.”
A fresh start. Just like Jericho said.
Maybe he wasn’t worthy of his family’s love, but they were proving they loved him anyway. Unconditionally. Just as he was learning to love Grace.
As if sensing his thoughts, Grace glanced up, meeting his gaze over the top of Ruby's head. Her eyes sparkled with a tentative hope, a glimmer of the joy opening up inside him too.
A new beginning for them both.
* * *
G race blinked awake as shafts of pale winter sunlight slanted through the window behind them. A new morning.
She glanced at Sampson to make sure she hadn’t awakened him with her movements. The laudanum usually had a firm hold on him in the mornings, and it took a while for him to come out of sleep.
His rich brown eyes stared back at her, less than a foot away.
Heat crept up to her cheeks at his direct look, but she allowed herself to smile. “Good morning.” Waking up in Sampson’s bed—in Sampson’s arms—had become her favorite part of each day.
They both slept fully clothed, of course. But she felt so…safe here.
That first time she’d laid in his arms and cried, something about his presence brought comfort, and he’d continued to bring comfort every time she needed it. The first night, he’d invited her to sleep there. The bed was so small that she had to lie with her head on his shoulder, snuggled into his side. He always kept his good arm around her, his hand resting on the curve of her waist. She’d never felt so warm and cherished. And safe.
He still watched her now, those warm eyes taking her in. “Morning.” His voice held that deep sleep-roughness, making a tingle slip through her. The man had no right to be so handsome, with those strong features and heart-stopping eyes. His gaze held a clarity this morning that hadn’t been there since his injuries.
"What are you doing?" She tried not to look as shy as she felt.
His gaze roamed her face. "You’re so beautiful.” He met her eyes again. “If I could, I would lie here and look at you all the time. Never sleep.”
Heat surged to her cheeks, probably turning her ears red. But his words wrapped around her heart, filling her with so much warmth. They'd talked a great deal these past few days, but they hadn't broached the subject of their marriage or what the future might hold.
She’d caught an appreciative gaze every now and then, but he'd not spoken to her like this, with such open admiration.
And she had no idea how to respond.
The last thing she wanted was to say the wrong thing and stop whatever he might say or do next. She craved him to be her husband in every sense of the word. A true partner, not just the arrangement he'd initially proposed when her father forced their hasty wedding.
Sampson's mouth curved in a rueful smile. "The hardest part of this broken arm is not being able to touch you the way I want to. To run my finger down your cheek and feel if it's really as soft as it looks." His eyes traced the path he described.
She felt the caress all the way to her toes.
His eyes moved back to hers, and the longing there stole her breath. "I want to kiss you, Grace.” His voice rumbled through her. “But…I won't unless you want me to."
Every fiber of her being ached for his kiss, but the words stuck in her throat. He was being so bold, laying his feelings bare. She had to work up the courage to do the same.
Slowly, she reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, something she'd never dared to do before. He’d shaved the day before, and stubble pricked her palm.
Her thumb wandered to his mouth, tracing the contour of his lower lip. Sampson turned enough to place a kiss on the pad of her thumb.
The gesture drew her gaze back up to his eyes. Their brown had turned nearly black with a desire that made her insides quiver.
Yet still he held himself back, not pushing for more than she was ready to give. This man, her husband, was attuned to her in a way no one else had ever been.
That fact gave her the courage to say the words. “I want you to kiss me.”
The heat stayed dark in his gaze, even as his eyes somehow turned soft. He shifted, rising up on his good elbow to hover over her. Slowly, reverently, he lowered his mouth to hers.
The first brush of his lips sent a shiver through her. So tender, yet so exquisitely intense. He pulled back the slightest bit, his breath mingling with hers, before capturing her mouth again.
And again.
Every caress of his lips cherished her in a way she had never imagined possible. His kisses journeyed from her lips to her chin, then along her jawline.
When his mouth neared her ear, Sampson murmured in that deep, velvety voice that sent fresh heat coursing through her veins. "You are everything I never knew I needed."
The aching sincerity in those words undid her. She gripped his shirt with one hand and slid the other up his neck and into his hair.
He returned to her mouth with a low growl, the kiss deepening, intensifying. She could feel the barely restrained power thrumming through him, yet he remained gentle. Not pushing her farther than she was ready to go.
At last he pulled back, his breathing heaving as hard as hers. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder as he sucked in air, his shoulders rising with each inhale. Somehow, this felt every bit as intimate as the kiss.
She grazed her fingers over his scalp, relishing the softness of his hair.
He let out another groan, then lifted his head to gaze into her eyes once more. A flicker of uncertainty touched their depths. Did he want her to say something?
Her mind still reeled from the intensity of that kiss. She could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone put them into words. She longed for Sampson to kiss her again, to lose herself in him.
But a small, cautious voice whispered that she wasn't quite ready for where that might lead. Everything about this was so new.
His eyes searched hers, as if seeking assurance he hadn't overstepped. "Grace." His voice was low, rough with emotion. "Can I…would you allow me to court you?"
Relief washed through her, loosening the tightness in her chest. Maybe he realized how new this was for her. And this man, her husband, was making her feel safe and treasured, just like he did in every other way.
She nodded, a soft smile curving her lips. "I would like that very much."
His answering grin sent another flutter through her middle. He turned his head to press a kiss to the skin on the inside of her wrist.
Then he pulled back, enough to sit upright. “I guess it’s time I get up.”
She reached for his arm, halting him. She needed to give voice to the feelings welling up inside her, the emotions she'd been grappling with these past days as they'd spent so much time together.
He looked at her expectantly, his expression open and encouraging. She took a steadying breath. "Sampson. I just want you to know how thankful I am that you’re my husband. Truly."
He stilled, his eyes taking on a sheen. He didn't speak for a long moment, just studied her face as if memorizing every detail. Then he leaned close again to brush the gentlest of kisses across her lips, a bare whisper of contact that somehow conveyed the depth of his feelings more than any words could.
When he pulled back, his gaze locked with hers. The emotion there made her chest ache.
"I'm the one who's thankful, Grace. More than you can possibly know." His voice was low, thick with feeling. "I've been thanking God every day, for bringing you into my life. Even when I was being stubborn and selfish, staying out in the bunkhouse, deep down I knew you were the best thing that ever happened to me."
He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "You are God’s grace to me, you and Ruby both. A better gift than I could have dreamed of. I’ll never stop being thankful for you.”
Tears pricked her eyes at the raw honesty in his words. This was what she had longed for her entire life, without even realizing it.
A home. A place to belong. Someone to cherish her, body and soul.