September 1891
Nick breathed in the sharp tang of sea breeze and watched the view of the harbor coming in sight. Soon they’d be home again. Home.
He put his arm around Alice’s shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Excited?”
She turned to him with a smile. “Yes. But it was worth crossing the Atlantic. I loved every minute of it.”
“Especially the fact that we’re not coming back empty-handed.”
They both looked down at the bundle she held in her arms. “We’re bringing home our own little Yankee,” she said, her voice filled with tenderness.
“How’s our little princess doing?” he asked softly, gazing down at their three-month-old daughter.
“Sleeping peacefully.” Jean Anne Tennent, named for his mother, lay swathed in pink blankets, her shock of hair as dark as his. At that moment she stirred and stared up at them, her eyes as blue as Alice’s. She yawned, her little bud of a mouth opening wide.
Nick felt a mixture of pride, deep humility and overwhelming love well up inside him, as it did each time he looked at the perfect little creature. He could still scarcely fathom this outcome of his and Alice’s love.
When Alice had told him she was expecting, he’d gone past the hope of ever knowing the joys of fatherhood and was grateful just being able to share in Austen’s upbringing. Alice had confided that after her first husband’s death, she too had never thought to be blessed with more offspring.
Little Jeannie was truly a gift from God and they both thanked Him every day for her.
Austen’s clear voice rang out, “Papa, look at all the ships!”
The name on the eight-year-old’s lips still filled him with another sense of awe. Only a few weeks ago, the boy had taken him by surprise during their nightly bedtime story to ask permission to call him Papa.
“Of course you may…son,” Nick had answered in a quiet tone, trying to mask the catch in his throat.
“Dear, be careful!” Alice’s voice warned as she glanced at the boy, who leaned out far over the rail.
Nick reached for his daughter. “Here, let me take our Yankee while you grab our son before he falls overboard.”
Alice chuckled as she relinquished her precious baby to her husband. She watched for a second as he cooed over his daughter. Alice never worried about Nick with either child anymore. He was an extraordinary father.
“Mama, look, we’re getting closer!”
Alice moved to stand behind Austen and hold him by his suspenders. He’d grown a couple of inches in the last year.
His bond with Nick had only deepened over their year in America. When Alice had discovered her pregnancy, Nick had insisted they remain in San Francisco until the baby was old enough to travel. She hadn’t let her confinement stop her activities, however. She’d seen and toured many benevolent societies and Nick had named her chairman of his entire charitable trust.
She took a deep breath, as they drew near the harbor. She was looking forward to their new life back in London and Richmond, and wherever the Lord would lead her with her beloved companion.
She turned to glance at her husband once again and caught his eyes. The warmth grew in them, as she returned the smile of the man whom the Lord had brought back to her life. The man who’d been her first—and last—love.