Emma rose from her chair, rested her hands on her swollen abdomen and walked out onto the porch. A smile touched her lips. Every time she came outside and looked over the budding orchards she was more thankful she had won the argument over where they should build their home. Zach had wanted to build in town, next door to the Hargroves’, in the lot where her wagon had sat, so she could be near her patients. But she had wanted their home here on the plains, by the barn, so she would be near Zach while he tended the apple orchards and watched over their cattle and horses.
She turned and looked across the river at the sturdy iron rod with a bell on the top, and a side arm from which dangled a hand-carved sign that read Doctor Emma. She smiled and rubbed her hands over the bulge beneath her skirt. Zach had promised the bell was loud enough to be heard over the clamor of any and all future children. And the neighing and snorting of Comanche’s get.
She sank down onto the porch swing Zach had hung so she could sit and look toward the fields and barns while she waited for him to come to the house at the end of the day. Things had worked out so well. And, looking back, she could see God’s hand clearly guiding them and blessing them. The furniture Zach had purchased from the Widow Canfield was enough for all five rooms, with some left over for expansion. Those items, awaiting the births of future little Thatchers, were in the loft of the second barn they had built by the house for storage of apples.
Emma sighed, pushed her toes against the porch floor and set the swing in motion. This was her favorite spot. Would the baby she carried like to sit and swing here with her? She laughed and pushed harder. Probably not, if they were the energetic, adventurous sons she hoped for. As soon as they could walk they would be off exploring their land, learning to ride Comanche’s colts and fillies. Of course, she could have a little filly of her own. The daughter Zach wanted…one, he said, who would look like her and be just as stubborn. Tenacious, she always corrected, because she loved to hear him laugh.
She heard the thunder of hoofs, looked up and saw Zach riding Comanche across the field, heading home. To her. Her heart filled. How blessed she was. She stopped the swing and closed her eyes. “Thank You, God, for leading me on the path to Your blessings. For fulfilling my dream of being a doctor, and giving me so much more than I even knew to ask for.”
The hoofbeats pounded close, stopped. She smiled, rose from the swing as Zach swung from the saddle then hurried forward to step into her husband’s strong, loving arms.