Epilogue
SIX YEARS LATER .. .
“Excuse me, Mrs. Darby?” An older woman who had taken up residence at the boardinghouse a few weeks prior stopped Isabella in the dining room.
“Yes, Mrs. Cameron?” Isabella shifted the stack of dirty dishes from one arm to the other.
“You know I think your boys are angels, but you may want to peek in the parlor.” Mrs. Cameron gave her a benevolent smile and patted her shoulder.
Isabella thanked her before hurrying to the door. At the last minute, she set the stack of dishes on the corner of a table where no one was sitting. Wiping her hands on her apron, she stepped into the hallway, half-dreading what she might find in the parlor.
Shrieks and giggles erupted, and she crossed the hall as quickly as she could. No one else was around. Tansy, with Isabella and Hale’s infant son in tow, had departed the kitchen for her room thirty minutes prior to prepare for the gentleman she expected to visit that evening. Hale was shut in his office. Thankfully, the guests were nearly all occupied in the dining room with their suppers.
“Boys!” she exclaimed the second she stepped foot in the parlor. “What is this?”
Quilts—all from unoccupied rooms, Isabella hoped—draped over the settee and chairs, forming one giant tent-like structure. Giggles sounded from under the quilts. She stepped forward when no one answered her.
Isabella smiled at the quilt she reached out to grasp. It was the one she’d helped stitch a square for not long after she’d arrived in Crest Stone. The quilt had been for her and Hale all along, and Tansy and the other ladies kept it a secret until they presented her with it when she and Hale returned from Cheyenne.
It was one of the most meaningful gifts she’d ever received.
She pulled up a corner of the quilt, and two pairs of brown eyes looked up at her. Daniel, who was just over three years old and had hair exactly like hers, giggled so hard he fell over. His five-year-old brother, who was the spitting image of his father, tried to crawl under one of the chairs to hide.
“Mama! You’re not supposed to look here. It’s our house,” Grant said from under the chair.
“I’m sorry to come in uninvited, but I told you not to mess anything up in here. Aunty Tansy has a visitor coming, and they’ll need a place to sit.
“They come in here!” Daniel said, rolling over to face her.
“Well, yes, but they can’t sit under your tent. I need you both to clean this up. Please put the quilts back where you found them. And then come to the kitchen for supper. I made Mrs. Wright’s peach pie for dessert.”
At the mention of dessert, Grant crawled out from under the chair. “Get that quilt,” he ordered his brother.
Satisfied the parlor would be presentable for Tansy’s suitor—not that Isabella would ever say that word out loud in Tansy’s presence—she returned to the dining room to scoop up the plates she’d left.
In the kitchen, she found Hale cutting a narrow slice of pie.
“Hale Darby.” Isabella set the plates down as loudly as she could. “That’s for dessert!”
He turned around with a sheepish look on his face. “I couldn’t wait.”
Isabella put a hand on her hip and considered him. His smiled broadened, and she shook her head before handing him a fork. “You’d think that after six years, I’d be able to resist that grin.”
“How would I ever get away with anything if you could?” he asked before popping a forkful of pie in his mouth.
“You’d better finish that quickly, or you’ll have to explain to two little boys why they have to wait for their pie when their father gets to eat it right away.”
