Page 146 of Frankly, My Dear

“Nip and tuck.”

“Ouch.”

“Knit and purl.”

“Hmmm. That has possibilities.”

“Nook and cranny.”

“Now that sounds interesting.”

“Tongue and groove.”

“Definitely interesting.” But then he had second thoughts. “Selene…,” he said hesitantly, “you’re still weak. We should wait. We have a lifetime ahead of us. Remember—”

“I swear if you say, ‘Tomorrow is another day,’ I’ll scream. Scarlett didn’t know everything.”

And as she taught him a few “embroidery strokes” that Scarlett never dreamed of, James gasped for breath and soon conceded, “Forget that Gone With the Wind fantasy. I’ll take today’s fantasy anytime.”

Epilogue

The Last Chance Ranch

Sacramento, California, 1850

“And then the man puts his pizzle…” Etienne was explaining the facts of life with all the worldliness of a ten-year-old rake to his awestruck friends, Cain and Abel.

“Etienne Baptiste! Wait till your father hears about this,” Selene said, waddling onto the front porch under the weight of her behemoth stomach.

She put one hand to the small of her aching back, meanwhile cradling ten-month-old Ashley on her hip. Lord, she hoped the baby came soon. She felt like a walking bus. Scarlett wobbled after her on her chubby toddler legs, holding onto her skirts for balance, cooing, “E.T….E.T….E.T.”

“I thought you boys were supposed to be watching the children,” Selene reminded Etienne.

“We are,” the rascal answered lazily, pointing to the two four-year-olds. His brother Rhett and Rufus and Iris’s darling Lily Belle were making mud pies near the pump, covered from head to toe with muck. The only supervision Selene could see came from Dreadful, who kept licking their faces.

Selene made a clucking sound of disgust, then jerked up alertly at the sound of horses. James led a group of riders through the road separating the north and south pastures.

As always, Selene felt a surge of pride when looking at their prosperous cattle ranch. She and James had done well in California, not from panning gold but from selling beef to the prospectors in the blossoming gold rush towns. And her small school had grown from five to twenty students this past year.

Her only regret was that Blossom hadn’t been able to make the trip with them. The elderly black woman had become like a mother to her. And she missed Reba, even though they exchanged letters regularly.

Turning back to the riders as they came closer, Selene ordered Etienne, “Take the children back to Iris.” She handed Ashley to him and watched as he led the band of youngsters around the house.

“Oh, Lord,” Selene muttered as she recognized the men. When James dismounted and tied his horse to the rail, she asked peevishly, “What are you doing with Ignacio and his ragtag gang of desperadoes?”

James rolled his eyes. “They’re just stopping for water.” His expression turned suddenly serious. “They have two captives.”

“I don’t know who to pity more, Ignacio or the captives,” she remarked, knowing how inept these particular bandits were. “The last time they took a captive for ransom their victim bopped them over their thick heads and robbed them.”

James chuckled in remembrance.

Selene made her way carefully down the steps toward her husband and slapped his hand away when he reached reflexively to caress her stomach.

“What’s the matter, chérie? Are you feeling discomfort?”

“Discomfort? Hah! I know firsthand how a bloated cow feels!”

“You are beautiful to me, Selene.”