“I hope they’ll all visit when the baby arrives.”
“I’m sure they will.” He hugged her again. “Uh oh, people are looking. We’d better move along, or there’ll be questions. You want to save the surprise until tonight?”
Sadie nodded. “We’ll tell them during the fireworks.”
“Sounds perfect. You sure you’re up for the fair? We could still go home.”
“I wouldn’t miss this day for the world!”
This is what it felt like to be pregnant, Sadie thought as Connor guided her with almost exaggerated care to the sidewalk, then went back to collect anything they might need during their day in town. It was far too early for her to feel the baby, but she felt… something. Almost a buzzing sensation inside her, like the processes of her body had gone into overdrive to create this new life. She had a sense she should be a little quieter, move a little more slowly—allow most of her inner resources to be allocated to this important new task.
She thought she might understand Cass a little better now, too. She’d watched her sister all the previous year stop sometimes in the middle of cooking or climbing the stairs and turn inward, as if witnessing something no one else could see. At the time it had felt a little like an affront: like once more Cass was separating herself from the rest of them, playing parent while they all had to remain little girls.
Now she realized it wasn’t something you controlled. Your body demanded your attention in a wholly different way than it had before.
“Ready?” Connor joined her on the sidewalk.
“Ready.”
They ambled along with the others toward the town square and the fields that adjoined it, where food and game tents would be set up and the Revolutionary War re-enactment would happen later. It was early enough that the day still felt fresh, but soon it would be hot. Sadie was grateful there were a couple of pop-up awnings in one of the trucks they could set up later to create shade for themselves.
“Sadie!” Ellie Donaldson called out from across the street. “Happy Fourth! I’ll be by later this week for some more of my tonic.”
“I’ll have it ready.” Sadie was proud of the way her sales had grown this year. Last year, when her garden had failed to thrive and the sense for growing things she’d always relied on to guide her had disappeared, she’d thought she would have to leave her home and give up on gardening altogether. Only when Connor arrived and renewed her belief in people—and love—did her green thumb return. Now her garden sang with appreciation when she came to work in it each morning and had become almost jungle-like in its growth. She thought her love for Connor must be distilled in every tincture and tonic she created because her customers were thriving, too, their small ailments soothed. Her farm stand did a steady business, enough to make her consider adding a second greenhouse to the property. She’d been wondering how much she could grow with a more extensive setup.
Of course, she’d need to balance work and family now, but secretly she dreamed about bringing her child to her garden with her, teaching him or her the names of the plants and the ways to listen to what they wanted. She wondered if her skill at hearing them would blossom in her baby but decided it didn’t matter. Connor was becoming a green thumb in his own right, just by spending so much time with her among the plants. He took pride in the fruit trees and flowers they’d planted in the walled garden and was already talking about espaliering peach trees along the wall that garnered the most sun, to see if they could survive the winters.
There was so much they could do together here.
“This looks like a good place,” Jo called out, indicating a free stretch of curb where they could sit and watch the parade—the first event of the day. Immediately there was a flurry of setting up camp chairs. Connor opened theirs with a flourish and set them side by side.
He beckoned her into one of them and then pulled out the reusable water bottles they’d filled at the ranch and handed her one. Sadie settled in contentedly. She’d watched this parade every year of her life, no matter how hectic things had gotten at Two Willows, and it never got old.
“I like this,” Connor said. “This is what a Fourth of July should be.”
“I know. Everyone together. Everyone happy.”
Down the road a toddler began to cry.
“Almost everyone,” Connor said.
Sadie leaned forward in time to see the dark-haired little mite picked up and lifted to the shoulders of his father, a man she recognized from around town but didn’t know well. The little boy’s tears turned to smiles instantly.
“All better,” she declared to Connor. “All he needed was his daddy.”
Connor took her hand. “I’m going to be there for you and this baby forever. I promise you that.”
“I know.” Sadie never doubted Connor’s love, and she thought that was the sweetest part of being married. Knowing you had found one secure thing. Not that she would ever take Connor for granted, she told herself. After losing her mother so early, she knew you had to value every day you got with the ones you love.
She placed a hand on her belly, shut her eyes and promised her unborn child she’d make the most of every day they had together. She would make sure her baby knew it was loved. That was all she could do.
“I think the parade is coming,” Cass exclaimed from a few seats away. “See, Emily? There they are!” She pointed her finger. Emily blinked sleepily.
Next year she’d hold her baby and show her the parade, Sadie told herself. She turned to Connor, who was looking at her with so much love in his eyes she thought her heart would burst. He took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed his back.
“I can’t wait,” he told her.
“Neither can I.”
And they both turned to watch the first marching band approach.
“You rest here. I’ll go get us some lunch,” Hunter told Jo at noon, when they’d found a patch of grass large enough for the family to settle on. Brian and Logan were already setting up the sunshades. Connor had fetched all the camp chairs they’d used earlier at the parade and then returned to the trucks and brought another huge armful he was placing at intervals.
“You know Cass packed a ton of food,” Jo said, but she sat down, her large belly making it awkward to settle in the camp chair Connor had set up for her a moment ago.
“I know. Don’t worry—I’ll eat some of that, too, but I want some butter chicken nachos.”
“That does sound good.”
“Don’t go having that baby while I’m gone.” He touched Jo’s auburn hair, which was loose today and fell in waves around her shoulders. Her pregnancy sat heavily on her small frame, and it was as if the baby had taken all Jo’s reserves for its own use. Her cheekbones were more prominent, her limbs thin while her belly pushed straight out.
Hunter thought she was beautiful, and he marveled daily at the miracle that allowed a woman to produce a new life, carry it safely and tidily around with her for nine months, then birth it into the world, perfect and new.
He couldn’t wait to hold his son in his arms. They’d decided to name him Christopher, which Jo declared was a good, strong, sensible name for a boy. Hunter agreed.