Page 84 of Reclaiming My Wife

Harry must have read my thoughts. “Jackson and I were friends of sorts. Oh, we had our fair share of bad blood, but when it came down to it, we both wanted the same things. Family and a home that we could be proud of. He may never have told you this, but he was proud of you, Brendan. Proud of you and your sister.”

“He never mentioned it,” I said stiffly.

“I have a feeling that he just didn’t know how.” Opening a drawer, he pulled out a sheet of paper. “I had this drawn up with our lawyers last week. It’s a letter of intent to sell. We still have some negotiating to do, but this will get things started. If anything happens to me before it’s all over, my lawyer has instructions on how to proceed.”

The victory that I was so proud of a minute ago was bittersweet now. Harry looked like a broken man as he signed it. I knew just how I would have felt if I were selling my land.

“I want you to add a clause to your contract,” I said as I picked up the pen to sign it. “The Blackwell name will always be welcome here. Should any of Dennis’s children want to work on the land of their grandfather, they’ll be given a chance to buy back the land.”

“A man who respects family.” Harry gave me a weak smile. “You’ve learned a good deal in these past couple of months. I assume that you have that pretty little wife to thank for that.”

Maybe I did. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had hope to pass down the Ward name and what it would mean to me.

“I suppose you’re going to go home and celebrate. As you should. Joseph will see you out. I’m sure that I’ll see you again before the week is out.”

As we shook hands, I felt my spirits dip just a little. I did want to celebrate with Jillian, but I couldn’t share my success with her just yet. Even though she said that she wasn’t going anywhere, I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. The fear.

If I told her now, she might bolt. I needed to give her just a little more time to adjust to the thought of being my wife on a more permanent basis. Once I knew that I had her, then I could tell her the good news.

***

I worked later than I expected to make up for the time that I’d spent at Blackwell’s and then the private celebrating that Gordon and I did. My rumbling stomach informed me that I had missed dinner, and the house was quiet when I entered. Kim was finally going to bed at a decent hour. I’d hoped to have a talk with her tonight, but it looked like it would have to wait until tomorrow.

The beautiful clear night sparkled with the brilliant half-moon and the dense dusting of stars. Inspired, I grabbed a few things from the kitchen and went in search of Jillian.

She was still fully dressed from the day but sprawled out asleep on the bed. I’d been keeping her up most nights and wanted to let her sleep, but she stirred as I quietly started to change my clothes.

“What time is it?” she mumbled as she sat up and yawned. Her long hair fell in waves over her shoulders. It pleased me to no end to see that she’d stopped putting it up so much.

“Almost nine. Go back to sleep.”

“Nine? You’re just getting in?” she frowned. “Is something wrong with one of the horses?”

It pleased me even more that she cared. “The horses are fine. I just needed to catch up on work, and time got away from me. That’s all.”

“Have you had dinner yet? I haven’t eaten. I was trying to wait for you.”

“You were?” Smiling, I leaned over and kissed her. “In that case, I have a surprise for you.”

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity in the moonlight. “What’s that?”

Putting on a clean shirt, I grabbed her hand and led her from the room. The stairs creaked under our weight as we crept down them. For a moment, it felt like we were doing something wrong, when in reality, we were doing something very simple.

Innocent even.

I grabbed the tote bag from the kitchen and headed out. Jillian didn’t say a word until we were in the southern-most field. There, I laid out the blanket from the bag and beckoned her to sit with me.

“A picnic?” she asked with delight in her voice. “At nine o’clock at night?”

“Why not? You used to love the nighttime.”

“I did,” she admitted. “And then I got old and started having to get up at the crack of dawn.” Sitting down next to me, she glanced eagerly in the bag.

---