Hope by Barbara Goss (primary phonics books txt) 📗

Daniel stood and came around the table. He lifted her up by her shoulders and wiped her tears with his thumb. “I love you, Hope. Land means nothing if you haven’t someone to share it with.”

Hope smiled through her tears. “I’ll share my land with you.”

Daniel held her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Can we forget about the land, consummate this marriage, and never mention the word annulment again?”

Hope nodded, her head pressed to his chest.

Daniel picked her up and carried her up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

“But Daniel—it’s broad daylight!”

“So, it is, but I’ve waited long enough, and I’m afraid that you'll change your mind if I wait until tonight.”

“Oh, Daniel,” she said as she put both her arms around his neck, “I won’t change my mind.”

“All the same, let’s make it official.”

Hope awoke to find she was still being held tightly in her husband’s arms. She rested her head on his chest.

“Are you awake?” he asked.

“Yes. Good morning.”

“How do you feel?”

“Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.” She lifted her head and kissed his lips. She’d only meant to give him a quick kiss, but he held her lips to his.

“I love you, sweetheart. I can honestly say I can’t remember ever being this happy.”

The Townsend Farm. Thanksgiving, 1882.

The Townsend family sat before the fireplace, drinking hot cocoa after a delicious Thanksgiving dinner.

“Father, tell us the wagon train story again,” Joseph said.

“But you’ve heard that story so many times.”

Hope gazed at young Joseph and smiled. He stood nearly six feet tall, and had the same vivid, blue eyes as his father and grandfather. She gazed at Helen and felt proud of her beauty and poise. Hope recalled Daniel saying he thought she looked like his mother. Her eyes fell upon Gregory, Sarah, Faith, Danielle, and Jonathan. Daniel’s father had been right: she had the biggest and best family. It saddened her to think their home would be empty in a few years. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

Daniel noticed and put his arm around her. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can tell the story if you want.”

Hope laughed despite her tears. She whispered to Daniel, “I wish our family could stay like this forever.”

“Good grief, no! Think of how much better it will be with our grandchildren climbing all over us.”

Hope laughed again. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Are you going to tell us the story or not?” Helen asked.

“All right,” Daniel said. He told his story with his children’s full attention.

Hope smiled as she wiped away her tears. She loved Daniel's version of the story. He skipped the part about Nancy and brought more romance to the tale than ever existed on the trek.

When his story ended, Daniel leaned over and kissed Hope while the children clapped.

Hope had the family she’d always yearned for. Daniel was right: she could now look forward to grandchildren, and their home would be full of love for many years to come.

And here’s the first chapter of GRACE, the next story in the First Annual Prairie Roses Collection! It’s by Indiana Wake

Sneak peek of Grace

February 1862, Independence, Missouri

Chapter One

Grace looked around the cramped, smoky offices of the New York Guardian. It was a busy little newspaper at the very heart of things and a place she had longed to work at since she was a child. But now, she wondered if she would really miss it when the time came to finally leave.

All she ever wanted to do was follow in her daddy’s footsteps and it had been such a source of pride to know she had done just that. Even if her long-dead daddy’s name had been the only thing to secure her a seat at the table.

Still, Grace was a good reporter and she’d more than earned the place her father’s memory had made for her, even if her articles were more or less limited to food and fashion.

“Finally.” Maurice Mason, the editor, came lumbering into the smoky office. “Come on in here, Gracie.” He beckoned her to follow him into his own small office. “Close the door behind you, I can’t hear myself think over that rabble.”

Grace smiled to herself; Maurice did a very good impression of being curmudgeonly. So good that most of his young reporters quaked a little in his presence. But Grace knew differently. Beneath the immense eyebrows and portly, scowling countenance was a man of kindness and caring. Not that she would ever tell him so, for Maurice would not like that one little bit.

Grace closed the door and politely waited for Maurice to wave her down into the chair in front of his desk. When he did so right on cue, Grace stifled a laugh. She was going to miss the old boy.

“Well, I guess the time is coming for me to say goodbye to you, Gracie,” he began gruffly, his mighty eyebrows dipping in some consternation.

“I guess it is, Mr. Mason.” Grace sighed and gave him a sad smile. “I sure will miss this place, Sir.”

“And this place will sure miss you too, honey. Our loss is going to be Oregon’s gain, I reckon.”

“Perhaps. But only if I can find myself a good job like I have here. They might not be so easy to convince that a woman can manage the job of reporter. Still, my brother writes that they have many little newspapers out there and what with him being an attorney and all, maybe I wouldn’t be dismissed without a hearing, so to speak.”

“Any paper worth its name would be a fool not to take you on,” he mumbled, and Grace felt