No Child Here Epilogue

I love a good epilogue, though sadly, I did not include one in the published version of No Child Here. So, me being me, I sat down and wrote a few pages into Hannah’s married life with her chosen hero.

***Spoiler Alert***

Read at your own risk!! The following script may contain information found at the end of the story, so if you haven’t read the book, you may want to come back to this blog post later 😁

Also, please bear in mind, these pages haven’t been seen by my editor. I wrote it strictly for my amusement.

Now, without further ado, the epilogue to No Child Here…

Logan hammered the last nail in place then stood back to admire his handiwork. The polished wood gleamed, beaming its approval in the fading afternoon sun wafting through the stable windows.

“Well, Jupiter? What do you think?” Logan waved a hand at his creation.

The cradle stood proud on the thick layer of saw dust at its base.

His beloved stallion barely lifted his gaze from his feeder to acknowledge Logan’s triumph.

“I think I’m going to find a more appreciative audience.” He strode through the stable doors, his nerves mixing with a pounding excitement worthy of a small child seeking approval from a parent. All his life he had a passing fancy in carpentry, but never had the time to pursue the interest. But now with a wife by his side and child on the way, he finally allowed himself to indulge in a forgotten passion.

And it had turned out brilliantly.

“Hannah?”

Logan crossed the threshold into his home, his nose inhaling the inviting aroma of baking bread. “Hannah?”

“In the kitchen, Logan.”

He emerged into Hannah’s sacred space to see the room filled with platters of various cuts of cooked meat, steaming bowls heaped with roasted vegetables plucked from their own garden, and a variety of tiny tea cakes. He beamed a wide smile at his wife’s accomplishments only to feel it slide sideways when a grim visage met his perusal. “What’s wrong?”

Hannah was seated at her work table, the latest missive from Pembroke in her hands. “He’s finally decided to collect Abby.”

Logan slid into the chair beside his wife. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Hard enamel nibbled on a plump lower lip, drawing Logan’s attention. “I hope it is. For Nathan’s sake.”

The worry in her voice grated on him. Pembroke and Hannah’s friendship had not diminished over the months since their parting, much to Logan’s chagrin. Letters closed the distance between them and were exchanged at least once a week. So far Logan had not raised a fuss, but he’d be lying if he said this latest bit of news was not a relief. “Cease fretting, love. Today is not the day to be chasing concerns.”

She caught and held his gaze, the letter falling from her hands. “You’re right, of course. We have company coming, do we not?”

He grinned. “We do, indeed. But first,” he stood, moving behind her chair, bending to whisper against the shell of her ear, “there is something I’d like to show you.”

Hannah groaned. “Not again, Logan. You are insatiable.” Still, she allowed him to assist her onto her feet. “I fear the day our babe wants to be born; I’ll first have to ask you to remove yourself so the birthing process may begin.”

Logan was startled into laughter. “Have I grown that burdensome?”

“I don’t know. Have I?” She leaned away, gently padding her protruding mound.

“You’re beautiful.” He tipped her chin up so she could see his earnest expression.

Her gaze volleyed between his and the floor, a hint of pink emerging on pale skin. “I think you mean stout.”

A wry chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re heavy with child. My child. No, if anyone is stout in this marriage, it is me.”

Her embarrassment gave way to amusement. “I have noticed your clothes seem to be too tight around your middle and shoulders of late.”

Tight? Logan scoffed. His wife was being generous. “I confess I love my wife’s cooking. It seems to agree with me.” Thank God.

“And what of your jacket and cravat? Do they not agree with you or have you permentally parted ways with all your garments?”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “You were aware of my lack of attire before you married me.”

“Yes, but company is coming. Or so I’m told. Who are these mystery guests you’ve been hinting at all week? I pray your nudity won’t cause notice.”

He bit down on the inside of a cheek to keep from smiling. “You’ve a tart tongue today. I would see it made sweeter.” He bent to kiss only to be interrupted by a timid knock on his front door.

Hannah brushed fingers over his jaw. “Go dress. I’ll greet our visitors.”

“Hmm. Very well. But this discussion isn’t over.” He smirked at her as he ran for the stairs. He wasn’t missing this reunion.

~*~

Hannah shook her head, bemused and wonderfully happy. Logan was a wonderful husband. Attentive and kind. Passionate and caring. They worked well together in this little cottage, turning the once quiet crypt into their cozy home. If only she could get the man to wear proper clothes when the occasion called for it. He truly despised formal wear of any kind. Forever the highwayman, she supposed.

A second round of knocks ensued, and she waddled forward, one hand on her belly. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Whomever stood outside was an impatient fellow. She whisked the door wide open. “Good after —”

“Hannah.”

A slender woman with straight blonde hair covered in a pink bonnet with matching pelisse stood on her front stoop, a fussy babe in her arms. A man with rich brown hair stood proudly next to her. “Emily?”

Her sister barreled toward her, arms extended. “Hannah!”

They met in a sloppy embrace, her sister’s babe stuck between them.

Hannah was speechless. “I cannot believe you’re here.”

Emily stood back, her gaze sweeping over her. “I cannot believe my little sister is married and with child.” Her gaze lifted beyond Hannah’s shoulders. “When I sent you that letter, I never imagined you would take the honor for yourself.”

Arms wrapped around Hannah’s middle. “What can I say? It was love at first sight.”

Hannah snorted, unable to halt the sardonic response.

Logan gently maneuvered her around, capturing her complete attention. “It’s true your sister wrote asking me to find you a husband, but it was you who proved the greater hero and I the one in need of rescue.” Adoration poured from his loving gaze. An emotion that she learned could be counted on and trusted. In every storm she encountered in this new life, Logan stuck fast beside her, soothing her fears and concerns, calming the swelling waves that threatened to crest upon her strength and determination.

She melted against him, her heart swelling with joy. “Your cravat is crooked.”

“Is that all you have to say to me?”

“No.” Hannah offered a wicked grin. “Your jacket is straining at the seams. I fear it won’t last the day.”

Her husband gave her an exasperated look and she burst out laughing.

Life was good. If it was any better, they’d require new wardrobes.

She gave Logan a sidelong glance as Emily and her family bustled into their home. On second thought, she rather fancied her husband the way he was. Under dressed and eager to remain unfashionable.

A palm swatted her backside with sudden vigor.

“Ouch!”

All loving pretense was gone from Logan’s gaze and in its place, a familiar fire burned. “Keep at it, my love. Retribution will be mine — later.”

“If we can both fit on the bed after supper.”

Logan growled and she squealed, darting away as her husband followed.

Oh, life was very good indeed.