EPILOGUE
Six months later. November.
Rachel smiled as she heard the door open, and Jake came inside the pretty log home that was hers now, too. He’d been gone all day, helping Reverend Landers and a few other men from St. John’s paint and lay new floor tile in the church’s community room. This year, St. John’s was hosting the Thanksgiving Day dinner for elderly residents and those who couldn’t be with their families. Maggie was outside, terrorizing the local squirrel population.
Quickly smoothing a wrinkle on the tablecloth, she lit the candles on either side of her pretty fall flower arrangement and went into the living room. He was just slipping off his boots.
“Hey,” he said, smiling and giving her turquoise, berry and white sweater an appreciative once-over. “You look pretty for a Wednesday.”
She laughed. “Do I usually look like a hag?”
Chuckling, he walked over to her to take her in his arms. “No, you look beautiful every day of the week. You just look exceptionally beautiful today.” He kissed her softly. “Do I smell spaghetti sauce?”
“Lasagna. It occurred to me today that we haven’t had it since—since we warmed it up when we got home that night.” Despite everything, she still felt a little sad about Nate’s death. Oddly, although that night had been terrifying, she now associated lasagna with happiness because that night things had finally fallen into place for her and Jake.
She found her smile again. “Anyway, I called your mom and asked for her recipe, which I imagined was the same as yours. I’ve decided that lasagna should be our ‘celebration’ food.” She grinned. “Now that I think about it, we should have had it at our wedding reception.”
He tipped his head curiously. “So what are we celebra—” He stopped abruptly and his smile stretched wide, lighting the brown eyes she loved. “You picked up the kit today?”
She nodded, nearly bursting with excitement. “If my calculations are correct, we’re going to be very busy the first week in June.”
Rachel shrieked as Jake scooped her up—spun her in a circle, and peppered happy kisses over her face. Then he slid her to the floor again, and they settled into a long, slow, deeply loving, forever kind of kiss. They were so blessed, Rachel thought as sighs broke between their lips and they smiled into each other’s eyes. Six months ago, she’d thought she’d never have a child of her own, and Jake had longed for a family but was afraid to hope it would happen.
Now they were married, and there was a tiny little Campbell on the way.
“God’s given us a good life,” Jake murmured.
“Yes, He has,” Rachel whispered, tipping her face up for another kiss. “And I have a feeling it’s going to get even better.”