Authors: Cathy Maxwell
“Thank you, sister,” Yale said.
For a second Twyla’s lower lip pushed out, and then she answered, “You’re welcome, brother.” She reached up and gave him a hug.
Yale looked over to Wayland. His brother stood a little apart from the others, his arms crossed against his chest. Yale walked over to him.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me and Samantha.”
“You are family,” Wayland said curtly. He looked away a moment and then said, “I wish you would stay. Who knows when we shall see each other again?”
Yale placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “I will return. The last time I left, I did so in anger. I left with nothing, and to my surprise, I returned with nothing. Now I leave with everything that is important to me—my wife and the goodwill of my family. You are my brother, Wayland. You’re a good man, a fine father, and the most worthy one to head up the
family and be the duke. I respect you. I love you.”
Marion took Samantha’s arm and both of them held their breath, waiting for Wayland’s response.
“Brother,” was all he said, before he reached out and hugged Yale.
Samantha’s eyes filled with tears. She glanced at Marion, who was similarly affected. They hugged each other.
Wayland stepped back and cleared his throat. Samantha thought she could see his eyes water a bit, but he held true to himself. “Don’t forget us,” he told Yale.
“Never. Samantha and I will return for a visit.” Yale clapped a hand on Matthew’s back. “Perhaps someday you can send one of your sons to me and I can show him a bit of the world.”
“I will do that. And perhaps you will be sending one of
your
sons to
me
someday,” Wayland said.
Yale laughed. “I pray that happens.” The two brothers stared at each other a moment and then Yale added softly, “Take care of Beast for me.”
“Come back and ride him from time to time.”
“I shall.” Yale turned to Samantha. “It is time to go.”
There was flurry of last-minute promises and kisses, and then Samantha found herself walking up the ship’s gangway. Her stomach was nervous, but not from fear. She was excited.
Once they were on board, the captain gave the order for the ship to be prepared for voyage. Yale and Samantha stood side-by-side and watched as the
Wind Eagle
pulled away from the dock.
Matthew and Joseph charged along the dock, racing the ship and shouting to their uncle Yale, who’d become a great favorite in a short time. Marion held Charles’s hand and made his tiny arm wave good-bye. Even Wayland waved.
“I still think he is an ugly baby,” Yale whispered to Samantha, as he gave one last farewell salute to his family.
“Aye, but he has character,” she assured him. “You can see it in his nose.”
The two of them laughed before Yale turned serious. “Any regrets?” he asked her softly.
“None,” she replied.
He kissed her hand and led her to the bow of the ship and their future together.
Ceylon
1808
Y
ale paced the covered walkway between the main house and the lush garden. His plantation was located in the hills, where it was a touch cooler than the tropical heat of the coast. A soft, steady rain pattered against the red tiled roof and ran in a stream off the ends of the gutters.
The rain was left over from the thunderstorm the night before.
The change in the barometric pressure had started Sam’s labor. Her pains had been coming at regular intervals since one in the morning. Now, almost ten hours later, Yale was growing concerned. Certainly it couldn’t take this long to have a baby.
The walkway passed the shuttered windows of their bedroom. He could hear Samantha’s heavy breathing and her soft whimpers. A Tamil midwife calmed her in a low voice.
Yale wished he’d been able to send for the British doctor in Trincomalee instead of relying on the local midwife, but the heavy rain had prevented it. Not only that, but Sam had assured him everything would be fine. And he’d listened because she was so often right.
Over the past year and a half, they had built a good life for themselves. His fortune still wasn’t completely restored to its former glory, but in Ceylon, he was a wealthy man. Besides, money didn’t matter as long as he had Sam by his side.
Contrary to his fears, she’d blossomed in the wild beauty of the tropics. His vicar’s daughter who had grown up knowing only the boundaries of Sproule had developed an insatiable curiosity about everything. She’d attended a Hindu marriage ceremony, climbed Adam’s Peak and seen the indentation in the shape of a giant foot that the Buddhists believed had been created by Buddha, and had explored the sacred city of Anuradhapura.
But Yale’s favorite memory was of taking her to the waterfalls hidden deep in the jungle. They’d camped out under the stars. When the moon was high, they had swum in the pools’ cool depths and felt the spray of the waterfalls.
That was the night the baby had been conceived. They both knew it. It had been a magical moment between them.
Now, Yale wished he’d never touched her. For
the hundredth time, he turned on his heel and paced the length of the walkway.
Just as he came even with the shuttered windows, Samantha cried out his name.
Enough with waiting!
Yale dodged into the house and hurried to their bedroom. He burst in unannounced.
Samantha’s face was so sweaty and pale, he feared she had to be sick. She cried again, her knees bending. Two household servants were holding her in a seated position.
He rushed to her side. “What is it? What can I do?”
The midwife answered him in Tamil. “This is the way it is,” she said. “Missy wife is doing well.”
Yale didn’t think Sam was doing well at all.
“Yale.” Sam’s voice was weaker than he’d ever heard it.
He knelt by the bed and took her hand. “What is it, darling?”
“Just hold me,” she whispered. “Just be here.”
Yale was scared. He put his arms around her and held her close. “Give me the pain. Let me do it for you.”
Sam forced a smile. “If I could have, I would have called you hours ago.” She was even able to laugh at her joke.
What spirit his wife had! What would he do if he lost her?
The midwife ordered Sam to push. Yale whispered the command in her ear.
“I’m so tired,” Sam said.
“I know, darling, but just one push more. It’ll soon be over. You’ll see.” He hid his own fear behind false bravado.
“Yes…it…will…be…fine,” Sam muttered, building her strength for another push.
“Everything you have, Samantha,” Yale said. “Give it all that is in you.”
She looked at him as if to say she had nothing left, but then he felt her body tense as she pressed down hard, holding her breath at the same time.
“It’s coming! It’s coming!” the midwife shouted.
“It’s coming,” Yale translated. Samantha had been learning Tamil, but it was still a difficult language for her.
She laughed, the sound almost giddy. “One more push, right?”
At the same moment, the midwife ordered, “One more push!”
“Right,” Yale agreed.
Her gaze on him, Samantha summoned a reserve of strength and made one last push.
The midwife gave a shout.
Yale turned just in time to watch the baby’s head emerge. “It’s coming, Sam. It’s coming!”
A small body slid out of his wife. It was amazing. He came to his feet to look closer. The midwife was talking excitedly in Tamil. She was exclaiming over how big the baby was.
Then, to his surprise, she thrust Yale’s son into
his hands, the cord still attached, and began rubbing the baby down with soft cloths.
The baby gasped with a startled jerk and then its mouth opened and out came a loud, healthy wail. Samantha began laughing and crying.
“We did it, Yale! We did it!”
He couldn’t answer. He was witnessing a miracle. As he tilted the babe, his eyes opened. They were large, blue, and a bit unfocused—and then the baby blinked and looked directly at him.
Father and son took the measure of each other.
Yale couldn’t speak. As he looked into his son’s eyes, he had the impression he could see his own father in them. And his father’s father, and so on and so forth until the beginning of time…and he knew then, in that moment, that his own father had forgiven him for all his failings as a son.
Because now Yale understood a father’s love.
The midwife cut the cord and tied it off. She was still speaking and working on Samantha, but Yale didn’t pay attention to her words.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his precious son with both hands. “He recognizes me, Sam. Right off from the first breath, he
knows
me.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Of course he does. You are his father.”
Suddenly, the world was a better place. For this child in his hands, he would slay dragons. He’d protect him, and love him, and cherish him. He would teach him to be a man…
Yale leaned over and kissed his wife. “Thank you.”
She laughed tiredly. “You had something to do with it.”
“Ah, Sam, my life was nothing before you.”
She blushed and it pleased him that he had touched her. “Wrap the baby up in the quilt the women sent from Sproule, will you?” she asked.
He did as she’d requested. When the colorful quilt had arrived several weeks ago, along with a note from Squire Biggers and Vicar Newell and the village ladies congratulating them on the impending baby, Yale had laughed. Who needed a quilt in the tropics?
And yet right now, it seemed the perfect thing to wrap his son in.
Samantha reached for the baby and placed him to her breast. Their son latched on and suckled immediately. She gave a soft, happy sigh.
Yale stretched out on the bed beside her. He slipped his arm beneath his wife’s head and watched, fascinated by this moment between mother and child. Reaching out with one finger, he traced his son’s long fingers curled up in a fist. Nothing had ever felt as soft as this newborn skin.
“He’s perfect,” Samantha whispered.
“Aye, he is,” Yale answered. “After all, he has my nose.”
The two of them laughed.
“What shall we name him?” Samantha asked.
“How about after our fathers?”
“Barrett Leland?”
“It’s a good name.”
“Yes, a good name to go with Carderock.” She smiled up at him and he caught his breath.
“You’ve never been more beautiful to me than at this moment,” he said.
“Oh, Yale.” She rested her head in the crook of his arm.
For the first time in his life, Yale felt content, complete. There would probably be more struggles in his future, but wherever he was, whatever he did, he knew he would be the victor. Life held meaning. Life was good.
“Because of you,” he whispered to Samantha. “All because of you.”
Romantic Times
magazine claims Cathy Maxwell is “…an author who understands the human heart and whose stories touch our souls.” To that end, she spends hours sitting in front of her computer wondering, “Why do people fall in love?” The question remains for her the great mystery of life and the secret to happiness.
She lives in Midlothian, Virginia, with her three children and her husband, Kevin, who drives her crazy in all the very best ways.
Fans can find Cathy’s web page at:
www.booktalk.com/cmaxwell
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
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