Page 179 of Westin

“You go lie down,” I say. “I’ll lock everything up.”

She goes to bed without protest. After I’ve eaten and the dogs and horses are settled in for the night, I lay down beside her. She’s fast asleep, snoring softly with nothing but the top of her golden head visible.

One second, I’m out cold. The next, I wake with a start to the patter of her bare feet running across the floor. The bathroom door slams, shaking the house. Something falls off the sink and crashes onto the hard tiles. Then, I hear her vomiting loudly on the other side of the wall.

My stomach flips.

No, it can’t be.

I’m up in a second, pulling on my sweatpants. I tap lightly on the door. When she doesn’t answer, I walk in to find her on her knees bythe toilet. She looks up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes are perfectly round.

I just look at her, my heart going too fast to speak.

She smiles weakly. “I was trying to knit these…little socks to surprise you, but I think the surprise is ruined.”

It sinks in slowly. Then, all at once. I lift her in my arms and carry her reverently back to the bed. She’s shy, holding herself as I tuck her in. Her eyes follow me, hesitant, as I brush her hair back and kiss her forehead.

“Are you alright?” she whispers.

I nod.

“I thought you wanted a baby,” she says, “so I stopped taking the pill. I hope that wasn’t the wrong thing to do. You seemed really certain.”

I clear my throat. “Darling, I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Neither of us know what to say. She starts laughing and falls into my chest as her laughter turns into tears. I hold her and stroke her hair.

Just like that, the entire world has changed. We’re no longer hunkered down for the winter. Now, we’re just waiting on spring.

“I’m so tired,” she says after a while. “Do you mind if I just nap this morning?”

“Anything you need,” I say, helping her lay down. “I’ll get you some water. No food?”

She shakes her head. “No food. I just want to sleep.”

I get her some cold water, and she’s already sound asleep when I return. Her beautiful face is relaxed. I stroke back her hair and press a kiss to her temple.

In the living room, I open the chest by the window where she stores our keepsakes. Inside are the quilts her Nana made, a few old recipes, my father’s pistol, and her copy ofCanterbury Tales.

I pick it up, turning it over in my hands, and open the first page. At the end of a long row of names, written in faded cursive is her name, and beside it is mine.

Diane Lemon Carter m. Westin River Quinn, July 17th.

There’s no trace of those brief months she was married to a Garrison. Our children and grandchildren will only know that we met and fell in love on Carter Farms and lived happily ever after. To them, our past will be as bright as the future Diane and I will build together.

I touch her name, sitting next to mine where it belongs.

My girl. Diane Carter is my girl.

CHAPTER SIXTY

WESTIN

THREE YEARS LATER

The air is cool. The grass is a deep, rich green.

Spring is here.

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