“Does it matter?”
“I...no.” She looked up at him, blue eyes filled with tears. “I thought I would never see any of you again. I should never have let Solomon go alone.”
“Were you going to creep up on our attackers and brain them with a branch?” Jasper asked her, laughing, and the tears spilled down her cheeks as she laughed as well.
“I thought... Oh, Jasper.”
“Marry me,” he said suddenly, and she quieted at once.
“We’re already engaged,” she said hesitantly.
“Marry me,” he repeated. “Today. Right now.”
“My wedding gown isn’t ready.” She was laughing now, the tears gone and her smile wide.
“It doesn’t matter what we wear. Clara, I swear I can’t live another day without knowing you are my wife. I’ve been thinking...” He turned, lifting her and spinning her in his arms until they faced the hill, and he pointed past the others, approaching more slowly. “I want to build us a house. Our own house. A cottage up in the trees. Well, not in the trees, but amongst them.”
She laughed at his mistake. “I would love that,” she said softly. “I will marry you. Today, tomorrow, any day you name. We can go into town now if you wish. I—” She broke off, her eyes on Violet. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, that’s—”
“Clara!” Cecelia broke into a run at last, and Clara picked up her skirts and ran to meet her. They tumbled together, all three siblings, Violet tilting her head to watch the tangle of brown and gold heads. Her eyes were marking the noses, the stubborn chins, the high cheekbones.
“Clara,” Solomon said at last. “This is Violet Stuart.”
Clara looked over at Jasper, who only smiled, and then curtsied hesitantly.
“I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Violet saved our lives,” Cecelia broke in excitedly. “She can shoot a gun better than Solomon, Clara!”
“She can’t shoot better than I can!” Solomon said indignantly.
“Yes, I can,” Violet said, grinning. She offered a bow. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”
“I...see.” Clara looked around at the others, and then back to the house. “You should all go say hello to Mother, she’s been worried sick. Go on, Cee.”
They ran, their footsteps pounding over the fields, and Clara reached out to ta
ke Jasper’s hand. Her eyes were shining.
“Don’t ever leave again,” she whispered. “Promise me you won’t ever let them take you away again.”
“Not hell or high water could take me from here,” Jasper promised. He squeezed her fingers and drew her towards the farm. His eyes moved over the trees, the fields, and the stable. “I had forgotten how beautiful it was here.”
“And you want to stay here?” Clara whispered. “Because if you don’t, Jasper, if you want to go...if you want to go home, I’ll go with you.”
“No. I thought, before all of this, that I might belong in the south more than I belonged here. I was afraid that I could never be the husband you needed. That I could not make you happy, and everything we had would turn to ashes if I stayed. I was homesick.”
“What changed?”
“I realized, when I thought I might never see you again, that the most important thing was that I be at your side. Wherever you go, Clara Dalton, I’ll go with you. That is my home.”
“Clara Perry, if you please,” she said cheekily, and she kissed him. “I’m Clara Perry now.”
~ The End ~