Chapter 19
“Oh, Thatcher.” She lifted the bracelet out of the box. “It’s stunning.” The gold band was studded with several delicate jewels and a dangling button with an engraving of a horse.
Sitting beside her on the sofa, Thatcher lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her wrist. “May I?” he asked as he took the bracelet.
She nodded and let him wrap it around her, marveling that he’d given her something so beautiful. No one ever had before. Her father had never had the money to buy her anything so nice, and even though Charles had been wealthy, he’d been stingy with what he’d given her.
“My mother’s father was a veterinarian.” Thatcher gently hooked the ends of the bracelet together. “She went with him everywhere, just like you do with me. And he gifted her with a bracelet just like this, adding engraved buttons to it each year with the animals she’d helped to save.”
“That’s lovely.”
He fingered the engraving. “This is to represent Queen, the first animal you helped to save.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and there’s room for many more in the days ahead.”
“Then you want me to continue going on calls with you?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I missed having you come with me on the last couple of calls.”
As his eyes met hers, the warmth and love in the depths of the blue made everything about this Christmas better than any she’d ever had.
They’d finished breakfast a short while ago, and she’d made quick work of cleaning it up while he went out to the barn to tend to the animals.
She’d also changed into a nice gown and styled her hair in preparation for their Christmas celebration at his cousin’s.
“Are you sure you want me tagging along? Would you rather have a wife who stays at home and takes care of everything here, like tidying the house and cooking you warm meals?”
He caressed the sensitive spot just inside her wrist, and his eyes crinkled at the corners just the way she loved. “I’d much rather have your company and help than a tidy house and a warm meal.”
Was it possible she could be enough for Thatcher? “You sure you won’t eventually get tired of me and our messy house someday and leave me behind?”
He paused and studied her face for several long seconds then swept a strand of her loose hair back from her cheek. “You told me I wasn’t like Charles. Now it’s my turn to remind you that I’m also not like your mother.”
“My mother?”
“You’re not to blame for your mother leaving you. You have to accept that your mother was the one with the problem, not you.”
In her head, she knew that, but it was much harder to make her heart believe the truth, especially when she’d spent so much of her life wondering what was wrong with her that her mother didn’t love her. “I wasn’t enough for her, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be enough for you.”
“You are way more than enough.” His eyes turned serious. “But none of us are perfect. So even when you make mistakes or have a bad day or whatever happens, I’ll keep on loving you, because that’s what real love does.”
She tried to absorb what he was saying, but it seemed too good to be true.
“I won’t leave you, Amelia.” His words were so soft and so sincere that they brought the sting of tears to the backs of her eyes.
“You said you would stay with me no matter how tarnished my reputation might become. And I would like to vow to you that I will stay with you too, through everything that may come our way.”
She sniffled and then launched herself against him, wrapping him in another hug. Yes, she was grateful for his support and his ability to recognize what she needed to hear. But she couldn’t deny that she was using every excuse she could find to touch him.
They’d agreed that they wouldn’t move any further along in their marital intimacy out of respect for Beckett and Eileen. But that didn’t mean she had to resist hugging Thatcher, did it? Or stealing small kisses? Or caressing him in passing?
The trouble was, every time she held him, she had a harder time letting go of him and keeping her hands to herself.
If she wasn’t careful, she might get carried away, and she didn’t want to cause Thatcher to do anything that might compromise his integrity.
And she didn’t want to do anything to compromise hers either.
With a measure of restraint she hadn’t realized she had, she released him, but not before breathing in his scent, which contained the almond sweetness of the stollen.
He’d done so much for her that she wanted him to know how much she appreciated him. Even though she hadn’t been able to purchase him a gift, she had been thinking about what she could give him . . . and there was one thing.
“Just a minute.” She hopped up from the sofa and hurried into the bedroom. After rummaging through her bags, she found what she was looking for, then wrapped it in a scrap of linen and added a red ribbon from those she’d found when decorating the cabin.
Before she lost her courage, she returned to the sofa where he was waiting, sat down, and placed the gift between them. “This is for you.”
His grin came out as faithfully as always—a grin that she was falling in love with every bit as much as she was falling in love with him. “I didn’t realize you’d gone shopping—”
“It’s not new like the bracelet.” Maybe she’d been rash to think she could give him something used.
“If it’s from you, then I’ll love it. I promise.”
“It’s definitely not as nice as what you gave me.”
“That doesn’t matter.” He skimmed her fingers.
As usual, the barest of his touches made her keenly aware of him—of his calluses, of the strength of his fingers, and of the way he could be so gentle with her.
“It’s not the cost or the newness that makes the gift special. It’s the giver and the love that make it meaningful.”
He was right. It wasn’t about the cost. It was about the meaning. “It means everything to me, which is why I want you to have it.”
He picked up the gift solemnly. As he began to untie the red ribbon, he flashed glances her way, as though gauging her emotions and making sure she was okay.
Oh, she loved him for his sweetness and concern. She was amazed at how quickly and thoroughly her love had come about. And she was surprised that he felt the same way so quickly and thoroughly. His words of love a short while ago during breakfast still held her heart captive.
Yes, they might have a difficult road ahead in explaining their marriage mix-up to the community. They would have to apologize to both Beckett and Eileen. But in the end, she was relieved Thatcher wanted to stay with her and fight for their relationship.
He peeled the folds of linen back to reveal a silver pocket watch on a silver chain.
“It belonged to my father.” Her throat closed up as she pictured her father pulling the watch out of his pocket and checking it every night so that they went to bed on time without fail.
As a single father, he’d done the best he could to raise her and love her. It hadn’t been easy for him to lose his wife and then take care of a tiny daughter while he ran a demanding dairy farm.
He’d persevered, and even in the end, when threatened with losing his farm, he’d encouraged her to marry Charles because he thought she would have a more secure future with Charles, away from the farm and away from its problems. She’d sensed that he hadn’t wanted to let her go, that he would miss her, that he would be lonely without her.
But he’d thought he was giving her a better life.
She hadn’t wanted to leave the farm or her father, but she’d wanted to repay him for his many years of taking care of her and thought she could do that by giving him the farm.
Whatever the case, the watch was all she had left of him besides her memories.
“Thank you, Amelia.” Thatcher fingered the silver case that covered the face of the watch. “I’m honored to have it.”
“It’s the only thing of his that I was able to get. I took it out of the coroner’s office without Charles realizing I’d done so.”
Thatcher was silent, turning the watch over, then opening and closing it. When he glanced up at her, his eyes held sadness. “I’m sorry this is all you got. Charles should have allowed you to have anything you wanted of your father’s.”
“I know my father would love you and want you to have it.” A tightness gripped her throat. “More importantly, I want you to have it because it’s a symbol of my devotion to you, that I will love you every minute throughout all time.”
His eyes turned glassy. “That’s about the sweetest thing you could ever say to me.”
“I mean it.”
He opened it again and watched it for a moment. Then he closed it, tucked it in his vest pocket, and met her gaze again, his eyes filled with so much love that she could hardly breathe. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given.”
“Really?”
“Well, there is one gift that’s better.” His lips quirked with the beginning of a smile.
“And what might that be?”
“You and the gift of your love that you gave me today.”
“Merry Christmas, Thatcher.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Amelia.” He leaned in and stole a kiss that was much too short.
As he pulled back, her chest burned with the need for more. But she kept her hands folded in her lap, resisting the urge to kiss him again.
How much longer could she keep resisting? She would just have to pray for a peaceful and swift resolution to their marriage mix-up, although she feared the coming storm would be neither peaceful nor swift.