“Can you think of a name?” Nick suddenly said.
“What?”
“The town has no name. Derek asked me to think of one—every one he likes, Miranda hates, and every one she likes, he hates.” Nick suddenly chuckled. “Derek wants to call it Mirandaville!”
“Oh, no!” Jane agreed, laughing. “We had best come up with something!”
Nick took her hand, pulling her close against his side. Jane looked down at the town sprawling with its frontier fervor amid mesquite and sage, and she thought of how Nick’s father had come to this land when it was raw and virgin, how he and his wife had tamed it, turned it into this lush, thriving Eden. “Truly,” she murmured, “it was genesis.”
Acutely attuned to her, Nick frowned. “You want to name it Genesis?”
Jane laughed, pressing closer and smiling up at him. “No, Nicholas, darling. It’s very simple. This”—and she gestured grandly at the mountains behind them, the plains ahead, at the spectacular orange and purple sunset splaying across the Texas sky—“is Paradise.”
“Paradise,” Nick said, and he smiled. “Do I detect a bit of wit, Angel dear?”
“Wit?” Jane laughed. “Never—my lord.”
And so it came to be. Paradise, Texas, was born from a little bit of wit and a whole lot of love.
EPILOGUE
Dragmore, 1877
Summer was tardy in its arrival, and there was nothing gracious about it. The sky could not be bluer, yet there was more than a hint of dampness in the air. The vast Dragmore lands undulated a glistening green, dotted with sheep, and the trees overhead provided thick, fresh canopies of new foliage, yet the road from Lessing was muddy and scarred from spring’s steady rains. The Dragmore coach with its bold crests hit another pothole, sending a cascade of mud up from its wheels, dousing some poor rider upon his mare. Within, instinctively, the earl took Jane’s arm and steadied her.
Jane was remembering another time in almost the same place. The memory was poignant. She was remembering a young girl sitting in a hired coach next to her stiff, unsympathetic Aunt Matilda, on their way to Dragmore for the very first time. Then it had been summer too, the hills had been damp and glossy like now, only she had been so very afraid. Of the future, of the Earl of Dragmore. She bent to drop a kiss upon her baby’s forehead as she held her, and then she smiled at her husband. He, however, was gazing raptly at the countryside.
“Papa!” Nicole shouted. “Papa, papa! Dragmore, where is Dragmore?” This was one of the first larger words that had been added to her vocabulary while abroad.
Chad, who had been leaning forward to stare eagerly out the window, turned irately to his sister. “Right here, silly. You don’t even know what Dragmore is!” He scoffed. “Does she?” He turned to his father. “She’s too young to remember. She’s just pretending to know what she’s talking about!”
The earl was preoccupied, but he tore his own gaze from the coach windows as they entered the long winding drive that would take them to the house. “She’ll probably remember bits and pieces,” he said quietly, and turned to watch out the window again.
Dragmore. It had been so long. Once abroad, they had spent several months with Nick’s family in Texas, then had left the children with their grandparents to take a honeymoon after their marriage. They had gone visiting his sister, Storm, and her husband, Brett, in San Francisco. A truly idyllic month in Hawaii had followed, and then they had decided to wait out the rest of Jane’s advancing pregnancy in Texas. But now, within moments, they would be home.Home.He tasted the word, tested it, and finally said it aloud. “Home.”
His wife, holding his hand, squeezed it. He looked at her, all his preoccupation vanishing, his gray gaze instantly softening. He smiled; she smiled. “It feels good, Nicholas,” Jane said softly. “Doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” he answered. “It does.”
His hand tightened on hers. It was incredible, but his pulses were pounding with anticipation and excitement soared in his veins. Thiswashome. He was coming home. He felt it in every fiber of his being, and the feeling was both exultant and peaceful. Jane reached over and planted a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, and it reached his eyes.
“Look,” Chad shouted. “Look!”
“Look,” Nicole screamed. “Look!”
Chad gave her a dark glance, she laughed.
Jane and Nick leaned forward and saw the turrets of the mansion and its dark bold outline. As they got closer, they could make out the pink roses creeping along the gray stone walls everywhere. And then Jane gasped.
“My God!” she cried. “The south tower, it’s gone!”
The earl grinned slowly.
The burned-out south wing had been completely razed—it had ceased to exist. And in its place the lawn was green and inviting, although a little bare, without any trees or gardens. Jane turned to her husband, stunned.
“I decided last fall to get rid of that, er, ruin.”
She started to smile.
