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Sarah kept her arms around Emma while the little girl bounced on her lap. At last, Thorn drove up to the main house of the MacPherson ranch. Would his family like her? Thorn had tried to assure her they would, but she knew almost nothing of their customs and traditions. What kind of mother would she be to his three daughters?
Thorn pulled the reins and set the brake on the freight wagon. No longer filled with supplies for the miners, it was filled with her things, along with their two dogs.
“Don’t worry so. They’ll love you, just as I do.” Thorn clasped her hand while people rushed out of the house, the barn, and the other outbuildings. Letting go of her hand, he jumped down, then reached up for Emma.
“Dada. Dada.” Emma laughed when she dropped into his waiting arms.
A small, white-haired woman took Emma while Thorn helped Sarah from the wagon. He wrapped his arm around her. Together they faced the old woman. “Granny, this is my wife, Sarah Rose.”
Granny flicked a toil-worn finger over the small clan shield on Emma’s dress.
“Is this one a MacPherson?”
Even though Thorn said his family would love her, Sarah clung to her husband. She smiled at the comfort he gave with his arm around her.
Thorn’s face lit up. “Aye, that she is. Duncan saw to the recording of her adoption personally.”
“Good enough.” She stepped back when a man nearly as tall as Thorn stepped up. Well, he would be as tall if he weren’t stooped over and leaning on a cane.
“Are ye a MacPherson bride?” The old man eyed her hand where she wore the band Thorn had given her when they married.
Before she could answer, Thorn cleared his throat. “We were married legally in Central City, but we wish to repeat our vows here with the family.”
“Good enough.” The old man nodded and turned to the people gathering. “Tonight we’ll be having a wedding and welcoming the newest MacPherson bride.”
With nods and shouts of welcome, the people scattered, leaving a woman and three young girls hopping up and down before Sarah and Thorn.
“Poppa, you’re home!”
“Hold me, Poppa.”
“Poppa, don’t go away again.”
He bent down and wrapped all the girls in his arms while the woman stared at Sarah. “This fierce-looking woman is my sister, Gavenia.”
Sarah couldn’t keep from smiling. “Ah, the one Adam—”
Thorn stood up quickly and wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulder, then gave a small hug. “Gavenia, will you help Rose get settled and prepared for the wedding?”
Thorn’s sister eyed them both for a moment. “Do you love each other?”
Thorn and Sarah looked at each other and said, “Aye” at the same time. Sarah giggled. She’d been doing that a lot lately.
“Good enough. Come, sister of mine. Let’s get you ready because I know my brother and he can be a most impatient man.”
Sarah laughed as she was pulled into the house.
After the family meal that night, an elderly man in full Scottish dress, kilt and all, pulled his bagpipes into his arms and played.
Sarah stood in a bedroom off the main room where everyone was gathered. Gavenia placed a sash of MacPherson plaid over Sarah’s left shoulder and across her chest. She grabbed the end of the sash from around Sarah’s back and tied them together, so they rested near her left hip.
Sarah pinned her clan shield on her dress between her left shoulder and her heart. Gavenia, as well as all the other women in the room, had the same plaid sash and pin.
Thorn’s grandmother hobbled in front of Sarah and unfolded a lace wedding veil. “This was me mother’s and her mother’s before her. I wore it when I married me husband on a ship to America. All me girls wore it when they married, as well as many of me son’s brides. Many of me granddaughters have worn it, as well. I’d be honored if ye wore it.”
Sarah couldn’t keep a tear from falling. She remembered the story Thorn had told her of how his grandmother left Scotland to follow the man she loved, and how she brought her mother’s wedding veil. And now she was being offered the privilege of sharing in the tradition. “I would be honored, as I hope all Thorn’s daughters will wear it when they become MacPherson brides.”
“Aye, and any of yer sons’ wives, too.” With tears in her eyes, Granny smiled and set the veil on Sarah’s head. “Good enough. Ye’ll do.”
The bagpiper started a new melody outside the bedroom door. The women hurried out to the great room.
Holding a red rose surrounded by white heather that Granny had prepared for her, Sarah followed the man and his bagpipes through the crowd of people. She could see Thorn standing beside an elderly man holding a book. The bagpiper stepped to the side.
Sarah Rose MacPherson moved to stand beside her husband, ready to start her life as a MacPherson bride.
THE END