Chapter Twenty-Five

Rebecca smiled as she looked at the newly built cabin and laid her hands on her belly—which was nearly ready to pop.

"You want to leave that big, fancy house and live in this itty bitty cabin?" Johnathon asked skeptically as he swiped his sweaty brow with his shirt sleeve.

Rebecca nodded. "Brantley and I would have had a cabin like this. Something small and cozy to raise our child."

Johnathon frowned. "You talk about him more than you used to."

Rebecca pictured that dark hair falling haphazardly over Brantley's brow, his green eyes gazing into hers as he wrapped his arms tight around her. God she missed him. But Johnathon was right. In the month that her mother and brother had been living on the ranch, Rebecca had been talking more and more about Brantley—about the future she'd let herself imagine sharing with him.

It was a future she wouldn't have but she could build a home full of love and laughter for her child—for Brantley's child.

"They lie when they say that time heals all wounds, but time does change the pain from a sharp sting to a dull ache. I'll always miss him, I'll always love him and I'll always wonder just what could have been between us but I have to move on."

Johnathon wrapped her in a tight hug and kissed her dark hair. For all his tough talk when he had first arrived, Johnathon was a loving and caring brother—just as he'd been as a boy.

Rebecca stepped into the cabin, it wasn't yet decorated and wouldn't be until after the babe was born. Her brother, mother and Tillie had been adamant that she could not move out on her own until the babe was born. They worried that she would go into labor alone and not be able to get out to find help.

The cabin was simple but it was sturdy and well-built thanks to her brother's skill and his supervision of every aspect of the build. One large room made up the main area of the cabin which would serve as the kitchen and living area. There was one room off the back suited for bathing with a pump well that poured directly into a tub. There was a room that would serve as the babes room once he or she was old enough and another bedroom that would serve as Rebecca's. A covered porch wrapped all the way around and Rebecca could not wait until spring when she could adorn the porch with flowers.

"Come on, Becca, we need to get back to the house. Mama and Tillie will have supper ready soon."

Rebecca nodded and pulled her coat tighter around her as they stepped back outside. Rebecca was happy that her mother's life was now easy. Isabelle no longer looked quite so exhausted and good rest and good food had put a bit of weight back on her bony frame.

"I'm happy you both came here to me," Rebecca admitted, as Johnathon helped her lift her heavily pregnant frame into the cart. "We lost so many years."

Johnathon hopped up beside her and nudged her gently with his shoulder as he grabbed up the reins. "We won't lose anymore, Becca."

As they rode through the frigid winter air, Rebecca felt a twinge of pain low in her belly that wrapped around to her back. She shifted uncomfortably. Several minute later, another pain followed. Just as Rebecca was about to inform her brother that she was in pain, a flow of water gushed from between her legs, soaking her skirts.

Rebecca's eyes widened. She grabbed Johnathon's coat and tugged the sleeve. "What is it, Becca?"

"Uh..I uh.." Another pain came and Rebecca gripped her stomach. "I believe you're about to be an uncle."

***

Eight hours later found Rebecca lying in bed with a kerosene lamp glowing gently on the bedside table. She stared down at the peaceful babe, sleeping soundly and safely in her arms and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

If only Brantley could be here to see his daughter. Rebecca remembered stories Brantley had told her about his mother, a woman named Loralie whom he had claimed had been an angel.

Kissing her daughters soft brow, Rebecca let out a contented sigh. "Sleep well, Loralie Isabelle Mitchell."

A soft knock came on the door just before Isabelle entered. "Hi mama," Rebecca greeted, feeling tiredness deep in her bones. Bringing a child into the world was exhausting.

"The doctor just left, sweetheart. He said he'll ride back out in a day or two to check on you." Isabelle perched herself on the side of the bed and gently placed her finger on the sleeping infant's hand. "My granddaughter is beautiful."

"She really is," Rebecca agreed. "Though, our opinions may be a bit biased."

Isabelle smoothed Rebecca's damp hair from her face and leaned down to kiss her brow. "I love you, my sweet girl."

Rebecca's heart constricted. "I love you too, mama."

"Have you thought of a name for the little angel yet?"

"Lorelie Isabelle Mitchell."

Isabelle's eyes went misty. "That's a beautiful name. Was Lorelie Brantley's mother?"

"Yes, he spoke very highly of her."

Isabelle's expression turned wary. "And you're certain you want to give the babe Brantley's last name?"

Rebecca nodded. "Of course I'm certain. This is his child."

Isabelle's eyes softened. "I know that, sweetheart, but won't people notice that she doesn't have Martin's last name? Won't they talk?"

"I would never give this beautiful child that monster's name," she insisted, her temper rising. "This is Brantley Mitchel's babe and I will never regret what I shared with him nor will I hide from this baby who her father was. I'm proud to have his child..."

Isabelle smiled and laid her hand on Rebecca's lips to silence her ranting. "Hush now, don't get so worked up, it's not good for you. I didn't mean to upset you, sweetheart. I was only looking out for your reputation."

Rebecca rolled her gaze skyward. "I could not care less about my reputation."

Isabelle kissed her brow again and stood. "You are a strong woman and I'm proud of you. Now, I'm going to go get to washing those bedsheets while you sleep."

"Mama, rest. Get someone else to do the laundry..."

Isabelle waved her hand. "Nonesense, if I rest any more than I have been, my backside will forget how to leave the sofa."

"Mama?" Rebecca whispered, stopping Isabelle in the doorway.

Her mother turned, her expression concerned. "What is it, sweetheart?"

Rebecca felt as if her heart ripped apart anew in her chest. She sucked in a breath and gripped her daughter just a bit tighter. "I really loved him mama and he loved me... It was like what you and papa had.. I...I miss him so much."

Tears filled Isabelle's knowing eyes. Without a word, she moved to the bed and curled up upon the mattress, holding Rebecca close.

For the first time since she'd been a very small girl, Rebecca cried herself to sleep in her mama's safe arms.

A/N: three chapters in one day!! Fourth chapter already started! I'm starting to feel more like my old self... dare i say my muse may be coming back to me after being missing in action for a year or two? Could it be possible? I don't want to get my hopes up too quickly but i certainly, certainly, certainly hope my muse has come back to me! I missed that fluttering little bastard!