Chickasaw County Captive

Epilogue

Six months later

They had decided against a big, fancy wedding, opting instead for a smaller lakeside ceremony, with just family and close friends in attendance. The whole Cooper clan was there, except for Sam’s brother Luke, who seemed to be the prodigal son. On Kristen’s side, there were Carl and Helen, of course, and Jason Foley was there with his very pregnant wife.

“She’s promised she won’t go into labor during the ceremony,” Foley assured Kristen when he found a minute alone with her shortly before the ceremony. “I told her if her water breaks, move closer to the lake and she’ll be fine.”

“God, you’re gross,” Kristen said with a grimace, but she gave him a hug anyway. “Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Tandy. I can still call you Tandy, right?”

“For the next twenty minutes.” Sam’s voice was close to Kristen’s ear. She pulled back from Foley’s embrace and beamed up at her husband-to-be.

“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?” she teased.

He smiled back. “Looking at you could never be bad luck.”

“Ugh. Newlyweds,” Foley muttered. He winked at Kristen. “Enjoy this phase while it lasts. Dirty dishes and laundry are just around the bend.” He shook Sam’s hand, his expression growing serious. “Be good to her.”

“I will,” Sam promised. He turned back to Kristen after Foley left. She saw that he was holding a box in his left hand. He gave it to her. “I brought you a prewedding gift.”

She examined it. It was a sturdy cardboard box, unwrapped. About the size of a tissue box. Whatever lay inside was heavy.

“Don’t shake it and don’t drop it,” Sam warned. “Need my help opening it?”

“I can do it,” she said, even though her hands were shaking a little. Prewedding jitters, she supposed, although after six months of courtship by both Sam and Maddy, she was finally sure this marriage was the right thing for all of them.

The box opened easily from the top. Inside, she found a clear jar filled with water and a small cutting from a rosebush. Her bittersweet childhood memory came rushing back, more sweet than bitter for the first time.

She looked up at him through a film of tears. “I can’t believe you remembered that story.”

He grinned at her, clearly pleased with himself. “Your neighbor still lives in the same house, you know. She still has the same rosebushes.”

She stared at him. “You got this from Mrs. Tamberlain?”

“She was happy to hear you were getting married and sends her best wishes.” He leaned closer. “Do you like it?”

She felt tears spill down her cheeks, probably ruining her makeup, but she didn’t care. “It’s perfect.”

“I thought about buying you a brand-new bush,” he admitted, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping the tears away, “but I decided I wanted to give you something that showed you how much faith I have in you. In us.”

She didn’t need proof of that, of course. He’d shown his faith in her when he’d asked her to be part of his and Maddy’s lives. But she understood what he was telling her with this beautiful, unique gift.

He was entrusting her with something delicate and fragile, just like the rose cutting. Something that would need nurturing, attention and care.

He was entrusting her with Maddy. And with his own heart.

“I love you,” she whispered, rising on tiptoe to brush her lips against his.

He tugged her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. “Love you back,” he murmured against her ear.

Behind his back, she lifted the jar of water holding the rose cutting to look at it again. Sunlight slanted through the windows of the room, making the water sparkle like diamonds.

And at the bottom of the cutting, she saw with delight, the first little root had begun to sprout.