Ruby's Song (Love in the Sierras Book 3) (29 page)

“It’s settled then,” Val announced. “Jess will be thrilled.”

“My only request,” Dalton said after clearing his throat, “is that we wait until I hear from my mother. She should be in Placerville by tonight and I expect to get a telegram. I want her here when we marry.”

Marlena took Dalton’s hand in hers. “Of course. Let’s go for a walk.” She still had something to discuss with him. They went out the front door and ambled around the house, taking in the rose garden and fruit trees, the expanse of green graze land littered with cattle. The children ran and played, their laughter filling the air. Marlena glanced around.

“Where’s Indigo?”

“I left him back home. His paws were still raw.”

“Home…” Marlena repeated and Dalton stopped their promenade to face her.

“Do you not want to live at the homestead, Marlena? Because we can live wherever you want. I know how much music means to you. If you want to tour then I’ll go with you.”

She grabbed his hands and placed light kisses on his knuckles. “I love the homestead, and I don’t want to tour.” His shoulders relaxed, so she continued quickly. “But I don’t want to abandon my music.”

His brow scrunched and he peered into her eyes for an explanation.

“Music is a gift that should be available to all,” she said. “Not just to those who can afford it. Working with the children at the orphanage…that fulfilled me more than anything else in my life. It not only gave them hope. It opened the eyes of the community in so many ways. Some of those children have real, wonderful potential with music. There’s more work I can do in Virginia City.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and he did the same. “If only there was a way we could have both a life at the homestead and in the city.”

Dalton lifted her chin with his finger and lowered his mouth in a soft kiss. “We can.”

She pulled away. “We can?”

“I have fifty thousand dollars in my account, remember? That ought to be enough to fund the finest music school west of the Mississippi, shouldn’t it? Now that there’s no contract to buy out, I can’t think of a better use for that money. And we’ve already got two of the best singers here to teach. That alone ought to draw paying students.”

Marlena’s heart expanded so much she feared it would burst through her chest. With a yelp of laughter she jumped up into his arms, throwing her legs around his waist. She planted a long, fiery kiss on his lips, running her tongue along his as she caressed his face.

“I love you, Dalton Cunningham,” she whispered.

He smirked and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “Now, that’s a song I could listen to every day.”

Epilogue

Snow drifted over Virginia City and Marlena watched it through the windows of the second floor music room. After dismissing her class, she’d lingered to wait for Dalton. Their packages had arrived that afternoon and he’d gone to pick them up after delivering his latest furniture order. Sarah entered the room behind her, bringing Marlena her fur-lined cloak.

“When do you two head out?” she asked.

“As soon as Dalton gets back. We’d like to go before night falls, although I expect it to be a bit warmer in the valley.”

Sarah peered through the window at the sky. “It should be a light dusting tonight. I don’t think the snow will give you much trouble.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” Marlena said. “The children will be very put out not to have snow on Christmas morning.”

“Well, it’s still a week away. They may yet get their wish. Are you excited?”

Marlena nodded eagerly. “It will be the first Christmas with all of us together. What are you and Hazel going to do?”

Sarah shrugged, “We’ll likely spend the day at the orphanage.” Her eyes suddenly turned sad and Marlena pressed her lips together.

“Still no word from Peter?”

Sarah shook her head. “I’m not surprised he didn’t answer my letters, but I thought for sure he would answer Hazel’s.”

Marlena placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I still think you did the right thing, telling her the truth.”

“She’s a remarkable girl, my Hazel. So well-adjusted and mature. She reminds me of you.”

“No,” Marlena said with a shake of her head. “That girl is all you. She is a natural on the stage. The Christmas concert those kids put on was spectacular.”

“We owe all of it to you, Marlena. Without your heart spurring this all on, these kids’ lives would be very bleak. Mine, too.”

They hugged as Dalton called the horses to a halt in front of the school.

“That’s my cue,” Marlena said and they descended the stairs together while Marlena pulled on her cloak and gloves. Hazel waited at the bottom of the stairs to exchange a hug and holiday greeting. When Marlena opened the door, it wasn’t Dalton who greeted her, but a tall man in a beaver hat with wide strong shoulders and a mesh of coppery hair clinging to his jaw.

“Can I help you?” Marlena asked, but moved aside at Sarah’s sharp gasp behind her.

The man stepped into the entryway and removed his hat, leaving a sprinkling of snow on the floor. His eyes locked onto Sarah for a suspended moment before moving to the little girl beside her. Tears flooded his eyes and his nostrils flared.

“You must be Peter,” Marlena said and he finally tore his gaze from Hazel to shake Marlena’s hand. “You are most welcome here.”

Dalton came up behind her. “You ready to go, love?”

“Yes,” she closed the door behind her, levying a parting smile to the family standing inside before she climbed up into the buckboard. “Indigo, here.” The dog jumped onto her lap from the back of the wagon and she covered him with a blanket.

They stopped by Ellie’s on the way out of the city and exchanged gifts, taking a pot of hot coffee with them when they left. The snow ceased as they wound down the mountain, leaving the remaining drive a pleasant temperature. Dalton reached over and squeezed her hand.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I believe the worst of the sickness has passed. According to Sarah, the first few months of pregnancy are the most uncomfortable.”

“Well, all the same, let me know if you need to stop and rest for a bit.”

She chuckled. “I will, I promise. Have you had a chance to read the letter that arrived today from your mother?”

He nodded. “She sends her love. Says Urban’s business is doing well in Placerville. She’s happy there and absolutely thrilled to learn she’s going to be a grandmother.”

Marlena rubbed a hand over her belly, anxiously awaiting the day she’d feel those glorious flutters from the inside. “Jess is going to be excited, too. I can’t wait to tell her the news.”

“Speaking of news, I heard something interesting at the mercantile today,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“Old man Perkins has died.”

Marlena nodded. “Yes, I did read something about that in the paper today. Do you really believe all that hullabaloo about his fortune? That he buried it somewhere out in the desert?”

Dalton shrugged. “It makes sense. The man was paranoid. I heard he couldn’t even remember where he buried it, that he lost his own map.”

“How much do you think is out there?”

“Thousands.”

“I expect we’ll start seeing the desert floor pock marked with holes now. Every man and his brother will be out here looking for it.”

Laughter shook Dalton’s shoulders. “There’s a lot of desert to cover, and with no clue where to start? It’s like looking for a piece of barley in a pile of sand. No thank you.”

She nodded in agreement. “I have no desire to go treasure-hunting. I’m quite happy with the riches I’ve got.”

“Me, too, Little Mrs.” He wrapped an arm around her, hugging her close. “Speaking of treasures, is it too much to ask for a private concert?”

She smiled up at him. “Never.”

After a brief peck, her voice filled the night sky, belting to the clouded blanket overhead and reaching the farthest cluster of sagebrush in one Christmas carol after another. She ended with her favorite, for their arrival at the ranch of Jessica and Valentine Kelly did indeed come upon a midnight clear, and as their buckboard rattled up the drive, a group of anxious family members gathered on the porch steps, joining her to sing the final verse.

For lo!, the days are hastening on,

By prophet bards foretold,

When with the ever-circling years

Comes round the age of gold

When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendors fling,

And the whole world give back the song

Which now the angels sing.

The End

Coming Soon…