28. Chapter 28 #2
It didn't take long to bundle Muriel up into the carriage next to her father.
Liam planned to send a crew from the hotel to fetch the rowboat in the morning, so they left it moored on the beach above the tide line.
Thankfully, the police had carted the smugglers and Mrs. Underhill away in her carriage already, so Muriel didn't have to face the dreadful woman.
Zane, Grandpa Clem, Max, and Zane's father rode their mounts behind the carriage as Eddie drove, ready to lend a hand should the wheels become mired in the sand.
Liam invited everyone to stop at the hotel for coffee and medical attention before heading out, and Max insisted on being informed of all the happenings, since he'd missed the action while fetching the law.
Alana Doherty must have been watching for them at the window, for the moment the carriage turned down the service drive, she darted from her home, leaving the door wide open. She said nothing, just waited, the edge of her apron crushed in her fisted hands.
As soon as Eddie halted the team, the carriage door swung open, and Liam scrambled out.
"Liam?" Alana walked toward her husband with short, shaky steps. "Is he . . ."
Liam reached back inside, plucked his son from the seat, and set him on the ground.
"Mammy!" Fletcher ran for her, arms wide.
Alana burst into tears. "Fletcher!" She stumbled forward then hunkered down so she could wrap her arms around her son. "Ah, me boy. Me sweet, beautiful boy." Her sobs were the most joyful sound Zane had ever heard. "Ye're home. Thank God, ye're home."
Zane dismounted and handed his reins to Grandpa Clem so he could be near Muriel. Her father helped her out of the carriage, and she hobbled toward her sister. Zane frowned. Had she hurt her leg? He'd been too wrapped up in her being alive to notice if she'd been favoring it.
Fletcher, like most boys, could only take so much motherly affection before squirming. As Alana rose to her feet, she kept a hand on his shoulder but allowed him to twist and face the rest of the group.
"She saved me, Mammy." Fletcher grinned in Muriel's direction. "Auntie Muriel saved me."
Alana stepped toward her sister and clasped Muriel's hand.
A look passed between them that carried both gratitude and forgiveness.
"She most certainly did. A right hero, she is.
" Alana lifted her gaze to the men standing around.
"As are all of ye. I can't thank ye enough for what ye did tonight.
For bringing me boy home." She released Muriel's hand and gestured for the group to follow her.
"Come on inside with ye, then. I've got coffee and tea and a big pot o' soup if any of ye are hungry. "
Muriel skittered away to Alana's room to change into some dry undergarments and one of her sister's dresses.
Da stopped in long enough to tend her wound and wrap it in a proper bandage before returning to the front room and all the regaling going on.
Zane had promised not to tell what'd happened with Mrs. Underhill until Muriel returned, but she still felt the need to hurry to make sure she didn't miss anything. She toweled her hair, brushed it, and rebraided it, too tired to bother with pinning it up, even though she’d be in mixed company.
They were all family now. Or would be soon.
The thought brought a smile to her heart as she left the room and found her way to the parlor.
Da had baby Colleen crooked in one arm and Shannon snugged upon his knee, the young girl's eyes wide as she took in the boisterous group of strangers in her home.
Alana sat in the rocker, Fletcher in her lap, his feet dangling nearly to the floor.
Muriel imagined her sister was glad for shortage of seating since it provided the perfect excuse for holding her son a little longer.
A small space remained open beside Zane on the sofa, and Muriel slipped in next to him, her heart doing a little flip as he smiled. Never had she been more thankful for close quarters. The warmth emanating from his side flowed into her, welcoming her to lean against him. Which she did. Gladly.
It took more than an hour for all the tales to be told. Smugglers with guns, fistfights, daring grandpas on horseback. Long swims, daring rescues, and ordinary men pretending to be revenue cutters. Heroism was applauded and laughter released tensions.
After hearing everything that happened on the beach while she'd been in the water, Muriel sent several prayers heavenward in thanks. God must have been watching over them. Nothing else could explain their success.
Max leaned forward in his chair and aimed a wagging head at Zane and his father, who sat next to him on the other side of the sofa. "I can't believe the two of you rushed a pair of gun-toting smugglers. How could you have possibly known what Zane was planning, Mr. Erickson?"
Zane's father chuckled. It was the first time she could recall hearing a happy sound come from the man. "He called me Pops."
"Pops?" Grandpa Clem's brow crinkled. "That's what you call me. And only when you're exasperated."
"Exactly." Mr. Erickson patted Zane's knee. "My boy's got a keen wit. Thinks quickly under pressure. Just like his old man."
"Like his grandpa, you mean," Grandpa Clem teased.
Zane shared a private smile with Muriel, and her insides warmed even more.
"As soon as he called me Pops," Zane's father continued, "I knew something was up.
Then he mentioned playing horseshoes, and all I could think about was the way Pops taught Zane to arch those shoes high and far when we visited the old farm.
It was just the distraction we needed to get the upper hand. "
Grandpa Clem winked at Muriel. "Always knew those lessons would come in handy one day."
Da rose from his chair, one sleeping granddaughter in each arm. "I'm gonna put these wee ones to bed."
"I'll give ye a hand," Liam said.
Grandpa Clem stood next. "We oughta be gettin' back, too. Sophie will want to know what's happened." He shot his son a telling glance.
Horace Erickson let out a breath. "If she's even speaking to me. She practically skewered me when I told her I was leaving after the party fiasco."
Grandpa Clem clapped Horace's shoulder. "Nothing some honesty and a heartfelt apology can't fix."
"We'll see." He turned back to look at Zane. "You coming, son?"
"In a minute."
Max followed the older Ericksons outside, and Alana accompanied Fletcher to his room after giving Muriel a secret, sisterly grin.
Zane helped Muriel to her feet, walked with her to the door, then pivoted to face the recently emptied parlor. "Something miraculous happened tonight."
"I know," Muriel said, slipping her hand into his. "God's hand must've been upon us for everythin' to work out as it did."
Zane turned to her. "I'm not just talking about the rescue. Something's changed with my father. The caustic shell that constantly surrounds him has cracked. I don't know if it was the realization that he might not survive the night or that I might not, but he's different."
"I noticed, too." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I pray the Lord will continue softenin' his heart, Zane. Fer ye and yer ma." She raised her head to look at him. "Perhaps there need not be a rift between ye after all."
"I'd like that." His jaw tightened. "I still aim to make my own way financially, but watching your father with Alana's kids made me think about the children we might have someday. I'd like them to know both their grandfathers."
"They will." Her mind instantly filled with images of Zane snuggling their babe in his arms. His proud smile and love-filled eyes. "If I've learned anything from these last weeks, 'tis that God can redeem anythin'. Even yer da."
Zane lifted their clasped hands and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "You’re a generous woman, Muriel Quinn."
"'Tis easy to be generous when I have everything I ever wanted. You."
His smile tipped up at one corner, and his gaze heated in a way that brought memories of their kiss scorching back through her memory.
Was it too soon to ask for another? Apparently not, for his head was even now bending toward hers.
Shivers danced along her nape as she tilted her head back to ease his approach.
"You're stuck with me now." The low rumble of his voice vibrated through her like a low chord from an organ that one felt more than heard. "I'm going to be part of your world forever."
Sounded like heaven. And she would have told him so had the touch of his lips not stolen every last thought from her brain.
All save one. Her happily ever after had just begun.