Five Years Later
Beti rocked back into the chair as she folded the latest letter from Hagbard. Three year old Jonadab squatted at the foot of the steps attempting to dig a hole with a spoon. Zeke let the door slap shut behind him as he joined her on the porch. Jona looked up with ale-colored eyes at his father then went back to scraping the earth. Winter’s snows were seeping into spring making the soil a pudding. Jona would need a scrub before she put him to bed.
“How are they?”
Beti leaned into Zeke’s strong hands has he messaged her shoulders.
“Well. Hagbard is still trying to convince Dane to marry.”
Zeke leaned down to softly embrace her expanding belly. “Uncle Eleazar has sent a list of baby names for our consideration.”
Beti giggled. “I can hardly wait. I was so glad Jona was a boy so we didn’t have to argue any more about why we didn’t name our little girl Abishag.”
“Well, Bathsheba would be just this side of scandalous,” Zeke quoted his mother.
Deep belly laughs erupted from Beti, just as her husband had intended. He flipped open the letter and intoned with deep reverence, “Habaziniah.”
Beti held her belly as she tried to squeeze air into her lungs around the laughter.
“I am sure I don’t know what ye find so funny. We Smith’s have a long and important line of archaic and obsolete names. How about, Obed? Rechab?”
She met his suggestion with silent laughter. Finally, she put her palms up in protest. “No more.”
“I have a list for the girls as well.”
Beti wiped the tears from her face. “Shall we consider that list after supper?”
Zeke plopped into the rocker next to hers and reached for her hand. Together they watched Jona deepen the hole. Beti glanced at the man the Lord had sent. How perfect he was for her, he made her laugh and stood by her when she couldn’t. Twilight lengthened the shadows.
“Are ye ever sorry ye didn’t go with Hagbard?”
Beti turned to face him. His deep amber-ale eyes held a sparkle of teasing.
“Aye. I have always fancied those Nordic names. If we’d gone to Fjellyoricket our daughter could be called Ingeborg. Now that’s a far step above Abishag if ye ask me.”
Zeke’s laughter warmed her all the way to her toes. “Ye could have been a queen.” Once again Beti looked into his eyes and found tenderness and strength.
Jona ran across the porch and dove into her lap. “Mama a queen, Dada.”
“Aye, Jona. Mama the queen of my heart.”
Jona settled into her lap. “Yes.”