That seemed to satisfy Thomas, and gradually the children's natural resilience reasserted itself. By the time they reached the farm, Martha and Mary were singing, Sarah was telling them stories about the wedding, and even Thomas had cheered up. But as Bo helped Kelly down from the wagon, he saw the strain in her face, the way her hands trembled slightly. The day had taken its toll on her, and they both knew it wasn't over yet.
"What now?" Kelly asked quietly as the children ran into the house. "What do we do about Frank Miller and his cousin? What if they really do try to bring charges?" "Then we fight them," Bo said.
"I'll hire the best lawyer in Wyoming Territory if I have to. I'll call in every favor I'm owed, use every bit of influence I have. They're not taking you or the children. I promise you that." "You can't promise that, Bo. The law is—"
"The law is on our side," Bo interrupted. "We're married now, legally, properly, with witnesses. You're my wife, these are our children, and no two-bit deputy with a grudge is going to change that." Kelly searched his face, looking for certainty she clearly didn't feel herself. "You sound so sure."
"I am sure. Because I've learned something these past few days, Kelly. I've learned that the things worth having are worth fighting for." Bo's voice softened. "I spent seven years running away from anything that might hurt me, and you know what?"
"I was miserable. Safe, but miserable. I don't want to be that man anymore." "What kind of man do you want to be?" Bo pulled her close, resting his chin on top of her head.
"The kind of man who stands and fights. The kind of man who protects what he loves, no matter the cost. The kind of man who's worthy of you." Kelly's arms came around his waist, holding him tight.
"You're already worthy of me, Bo Callahan. You were worthy from the moment you gave me seven days instead of taking my land." They stood like that for a long moment, drawing strength from each other, until Sarah's voice called from the house. "Mama, Mr.— I mean, Papa, the twins are trying to feed the baby cornbread and he's making a terrible mess."
"Papa," Kelly repeated softly, looking up at Bo. "The children are calling you Papa." "Is that all right?" Bo asked, suddenly uncertain. "I know I'm not their real father."
"You're exactly their real father," Kelly interrupted. "Real fathers are the ones who show up, who do the work, who love the children in their care. Biology has nothing to do with it." "Papa!" came the call again, more urgent this time.
"Baby James is turning blue!" "He's not turning blue," Sarah's exasperated voice responded. "He's just got cornbread all over his face." Bo and Kelly looked at each other and started laughing.
Real laughter this time, born not of hysteria but of genuine joy. Then they walked hand in hand toward the house, toward the chaos and noise and beautiful messiness of their new family. Inside they found exactly what Sarah had described. Baby James covered head to toe in mashed cornbread, the twins looking guilty but unrepentant, and Thomas trying to clean up the mess with a dishtowel while actually making it worse.