The words had risen unbidden to her lips, surprising her as much as him. They hadn't spoken of love before their arrangement had begun as practical, their growing affection developing naturally alongside their partnership. Carrick set the book aside slowly. Amelia, he said, his voice rough with emotion. Are you certain?
Completely. She moved to kneel beside his chair. I didn't expect it. I thought perhaps we might develop fondness, respect, even friendship. But this, she placed a hand over her heart.
This is love. I'm sure of it. Carrick reached for her, drawing her into his lap. His arms encircled her, strong and secure. "I've been afraid to name it," he confessed against her hair, afraid that saying it aloud might somehow break the spell.
He tilted her face up to his. "I love you, Amelia Montgomery. have for weeks now, maybe since that first day when you had the courage to tell me the truth." Their kiss sealed the declaration, deeper and more passionate than any they'd shared before. When they finally drew apart, Amelia rested her head against his shoulder. "I never thought I'd find this," she whispered.
"Not after everything that happened. Nor I," Carrick admitted. After Elizabeth, after the war, I thought that part of me was dead. They held each other in silence, the fire crackling in the hearth, snow beginning to fall outside the window. Two people who had expected a practical arrangement, had found something far more precious, a love born of honesty, respect, and the daily choice to build a life together.
Winter settled over the ranch, bringing shorter days and long nights spent in the warmth of their home. Amelia's days were divided between ranch work, preparations for the school's opening after the new year and making their house more comfortable. She sewed new curtains, braided rugs for the cold wooden floors, and rearranged furniture to create a more harmonious space. Carrick watched her transformations with appreciation. You've made it a real home, he told her one evening.
Better than I ever managed on my own. It was already a home, she corrected. I've just added a woman's touch. Christmas approached, bringing with it preparations for the town's celebration. Amelia helped organize a pageant for the children, teaching them carols and simple recitations.
Carrick, to her surprise, volunteered to build the stable for the nativity scene. I didn't know you were so religious, she commented as he worked on the structure in the barn. Not especially, he admitted, but my father always said a man should contribute to his community in whatever way he can. He looked up from his work. Besides, I like seeing you with the children.
You'll make a wonderful mother someday. The casual comments sent a flutter through Amelia's stomach. They hadn't discussed children specifically, though the natural outcome of their marriage made parenthood likely eventually. "Would you want that?" she asked carefully. "Children of our own."
Carrick set down his tools, giving the question the serious consideration it deserved. "Yes," he said finally. "I would. A family to work for to leave this land to someday." He studied her face.