fair chance at it.”
He paused for a moment, clearing his throat. “And, I think… it’s a good thing I waited. I can hardly believe it, but you would be the best fit, Elijah. Yes, I know you can sell your commission and could likely live off of that for a time, but you are a man who requires purpose to infuse your energy into or else you use that energy for other means. I believe that you and your bride can make a good life for yourselves. It is not overly far away, and the people will like you — for they will like her.” He laughed. “So… what do you say?”
Elijah turned to look at Joanna, his eyes wide and rather incredulous.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he said, and she knew without his words that he was asking what she thought. She smiled and gave a nod. It sounded like more than she could ever have asked for.
“We would be very appreciative, Father,” Elijah said. “Thank you.”
He reached out his hand and his father grasped it in a firm handshake. There was a raucous cry from the ballroom beyond and his father patted Elijah on the shoulder with something akin to affection.
“Well, what do you say we go back and join the rest of them? Sounds as though we are missing out on quite the Twelfth Night.”
“Let’s go then,” Elijah said, and the lot of them filed out — even Alexander, who followed sullenly silent behind, his hands in his pockets.
“You’ve plenty of options, Alex,” their father said, obviously also noting his son’s dismay. “Just prove yourself.”
Before they heard Alexander’s response, Elijah took Joanna’s hand and pulled her from the room. They stopped in the corridor before continuing onto the ballroom.
“The truth is, I don’t care what Alex decides to do with his life,” he murmured as he took her hands and held them close. “I think he knew about my father’s choice and tried to ruin everything for us. All I care now is about the future — which is you and me, together. There’s no mistletoe above us anymore, but…—
“I don’t need mistletoe,” she said with a laugh. “I can just imagine it.”
“I see a lot of imagining in our future,” he growled.
“There better be,” she returned, and when her lips met his, it was the best Christmas gift she could ever ask for.
Epilogue
“I’m home!”
Elijah pushed open the door of their manor. They still had much work to do, but this had become home in every sense of the word. It wasn’t overly large, but it was quiet. It was peaceful. It was theirs.
“There you are,” Joanna said, greeting him at the front entrance. He shut the door quickly so that the cold air wouldn’t chill the room. “I was getting worried about you.”
“I was trying to find just the right one,” he said. “It’s outside the window.”
He proudly pulled back the curtain, and Joanna peered out at the fallen tree that was now resting outside, perfect for their very first Yule Log.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, walking over to him and leaning up for a kiss. “Thank you. You must be tired.”
“I am,” he said, following her in, appreciating the warm glow of the fire. “But likely not nearly as tired as you.”
“Now that is the truth,” she said as he removed his greatcoat and then lifted the bundle from her arms, cradling their son in his hands as he sat down on the sofa before the fire.
“He’s beautiful.”
Joanna chuckled. “You say that every time you see him.”
“And yet it still holds true. John Edward. He looks just like his mother.”
She leaned behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his temple.
“Oh, I think he has much of his father in him, too.”
“Hopefully not my mind,” he said ruefully, and Joanna swatted him lightly.
“Your mind is beautiful and just as worthy,” she said. “You’ve lost a few memories, yes, but that is simply part of who you are and what has happened to you. Besides, you are remembering more and more all of the time.”
“This is true,” he mused. “Perhaps it is because the memories I make now are worth keeping.”
“Perhaps they are,” she said with a smile. “A letter came for you while you were out.”
“Oh?” he said, not particularly caring about it. “From whom?”
“From a Juanita Suarez.”
He stilled. “Juanita… it couldn’t be—”
But it had to be.
“Have you opened it?”
“No, of course not,” Joanna said, rounding the chesterfield and sitting next to