Maggie's Dad (17 page)

“Oh, I gave up on it when we got married,” he said easily. “I had an idea that she wanted more than money for it, and you were jealous enough of her already.”

“I like that!” she muttered.

“You never had anything to worry about,” he said. “She wasn't my type. But, I had an idea she'd make mischief if I kept trying to get those few acres, so I let the idea go. And I'll tell you something else,” he added with a chuckle. “I don't think Dawson Rutherford's going to get that strip, either. She may string him along to see if she can get him interested in a more permanent arrangement, but unless he wants to propose…”

“Maybe he does,” she said.

He shook his head. “I don't like him,” he said, “but he's not a fool. She isn't his type of woman. She likes to give orders, not take them. He's too strong willed to suit her for long. More than likely, it's because she can't get him that she wants him.”

“I hope so,” she replied. “I'd hate to see him trapped into marriage. I think Barrie cares a lot more for him than she'll admit.”

He drew her close. “They'll work out their own problems. Do you realize how this household has changed since you married me?”

She smiled. “Yes. Maggie is a whole new person.”

“So am I. So are you. So is your father and Mrs. Bates,” he added. “And now we've got a baby on the way as well, and Maggie's actually looking forward to it. I tell you, we've got the world.”

She nestled close to him and closed her eyes. “The whole world,” she agreed huskily.

 

Seven months later, Nelson Charles Long was born in the Bighorn community hospital. It had been a quick, easy birth, and Powell had been with Antonia every step of the way. Maggie was allowed in with her dad to see the baby while Antonia fed him.

“He looks like you, Dad,” Maggie said.

“He looks like Antonia,” he protested. “
You
look like me,” he added.

Maggie beamed. There was a whole new relationship between Maggie and her father. She wasn't threatened by the baby at all, not when she was so well loved by both parents. The cold, empty past was truly behind her now, just as it had finally been laid to rest by her parents.

Antonia had asked Powell finally what Sally had written in the letter she'd sent back, so many years ago. Sally had told him very little about it, he recalled, except he recalled one line she'd quoted from some author he couldn't quite remember:
Take what you want, says God, and pay for it.
The letter was to the effect that Sally had discovered the painful truth of that old proverb, and she was sorry.

Too late, of course. Much too late.

Sally had been forgiven, and the joy Antonia felt with Powell and Maggie grew by the day. She, too, had learned a hard lesson from the experience, that one had to stand and fight sometimes. She would teach that lesson to Maggie, she thought as she looked adoringly up at her proud husband; and to the child she held in her arms.