Dear Reader,
First loves are infamous. Some people find them and never let them go, others decide they werenât true love and move on, and others still lose them and wish they hadnât. Then there are those like Ester and Brett, who thought that one person theyâd love forever was lost to themâonly to disÂcover they werenât. Those are my favorites. Reunion storiesâwhen the hero and heroine have to choose what is most important to them this time around.
I hope you enjoy journeying with Brett and Ester as they make their choices into happily-ever after.
And, thank you, Dear Readers, for all your wonderful emails, tweets, blog comments, and Facebook notes. I so appreciate each and every one of you!
Blessing,
Lauri
www.laurirobinson.blogspot.com
Chapter One
1883
Central Iowa
As she peered out the window, watching a rider enter the front yard on a big black horse with three white socks, Ester Larsonâs very being vaulted into awareness. She pressed a hand to her stomach. It was as if sheâd swallowed a bird. A big one. The size of a crow. One that fluttered its wings and tried to peck its way out at the same time.
Sheâd yet to see the riderâs face, but she knew it was him. Brett Richards. Not only did her heart say so, but sheâd expected himâsomeday.
Ester took a moment to watch him secretly, yet instinct told her that Brett, too, knew she was just behind the curtain. Dropping the yellow lace, closing her eyes, she fought the urge to run upstairs and change dresses, or just take a moment to check her reflection. There wasnât time for that. Besides, everything was best faced head-onâeven the man who left you standing at the altar.
Well, not literally standing there, but sheâd ordered her dress pattern, and in her mindâand half the minds of Cutterâs Cornerâthat was close enough.
Pulling up that heartbreaking occurrence helped, and even though the bird in her stomach continued to flap about, she moved to the front door, opened it, and was standing on the front porch when her onetime groom-to-be brought his horse to a stop.
He met her gaze head-on, and it might as well have been five years ago with all the stirring going on inside her. Those sterling featuresâa square jaw, permanent grin marks on his cheeks, hair as black as the wide-brimmed hat on his headâwere all the same. As were the brown eyes that even now were looking straight into her thoughts. It had always amazed her how Brett knew what she was thinking, when she was thinking it. At this very moment, he knew she was admiring him, remembering.
As effortlessly and graceful as a deer jumps a fence, and watching her the entire time, he swung one long leg over the saddle horn, dropped to the ground, and moved forward, barely making a sound before stopping near the bottom step.
âEster,â he said. A greeting no doubt, since he touched the brim of his hat and pushed it back just a touch.
âBrett,â she replied.
âIâm here to collect Jesse and Hannah.â
The want to close her eyes was back. This man had always affected her like no other, from her very first memory of him. Sheâd fallen out of the swing still hanging in the oak tree behind the schoolhouse, and when some boys called her a cry baby, Brett had come to her defense and ended up with a black eye. The left one, bruised around the rim and bloodshot for over a week. But the three other boys had fared worse, and none of them ever teased her again. At the age of nine Brett Richards had become her hero that day, all those years ago. Heâd have turned twenty-five last month. April 8. She remembered his birthday as clearly as she knew her own coming up this weekend, when sheâd turn twenty-three.
Ester didnât close her eyes. Maybe because she was afraid heâd disappear if she did, just like before, or maybe because he still was her hero and she couldnât take her eyes off him.
âThey arenât here right now,â she finally managed to say.
âWhere are they?â
âJesseâs at the feed store,â she explained. âHe has a job there, after school, and Hannah is over at the Dahlsâ. Sheâs minding the children while Suzanne attends a church meeting.â
His somewhat lopsided grinâeven though it held a hint of disdainâsent that bird flapping a bit harder inside her. âWhy arenât you at the church meeting?â