left him untended far too long."
ELEVEN
Scuffletown, North Carolina
H ooper McRae tightened his fingers on the reins and eased the wagon to the right, dodging a gaping muddy rut straddling the middle of the road. Warmth stole over his heart, despite his aching shoulders and stiff hands. Soggy lanes and swampland were the first signs of nearing home.
Glancing at his sleeping wife curled on the seat beside him, he grinned and nudged her awake.
She moaned and stirred then squinted up with a drowsy smile, her pretty face dappled by the sunrise peeking over the horizon. "Hello, handsome stranger."
Hooper smoothed her red hair. "How do you sleep all bunched in a knot?"
Dawsey scratched her nose with the back of her hand. "It’s not easy, I can tell you that much. In fact, I’m not really sleeping … just dozing a little." Her groggy voice faded. "Merely resting my eyes."
Leaning closer, Hooper’s grin widened. "Were you planning to
doze
clear to Scuffletown?"
She yawned. "Don’t be silly. I intend to keep you company along the way."
"I appreciate the effort, honey, but you’re too late. We’re here."
Her startled eyes flashed open. Bolting upright, she stared around her. "We’re in Scuffletown? Hooper, that’s impossible." She spun to gaze at him. "You drove all night?"
He laughed around the yawn he’d caught from her. "I didn’t go to. The wheels kept turning while the road unfurled in front of me. Next thing I knew, we were pulling into Lumberton. No sense stopping twelve miles short of home."
Dawsey scooted closer on the seat and gripped his hand. "You’re no longer a Scuffletown resident, Mr. McRae. Hope Mills is where you hang your hat now and has been for more than ten years."
He shook his head. "Sorry, dumplin’. If I live in Hope Mills fifty more years, this bogged-down swamp will still be my home."
She giggled and stretched. "Oh Hooper, I can’t believe we’re here. I can hardly wait to see Dilsey and the twins."
He held up a warning finger. "Ellie, not Dilsey. If you insist on calling her that name, you’ll only make her mad."
She shot him a pout. "I do wish we could’ve brought our daughters to see your parents."
Hooper shook his head. "We made the right decision, Dawsey." He held up his fingers to count off the reasons they’d discussed. "It’s a long trip, and we don’t know when we’ll see Hope Mills again. The girls are in school. All their friends are there. They’re better off staying with Aunt Lavinia this time.
"Besides"—he winked—"a few days with their Aunt Ellie and your prissy daughters would be done up in britches, toting rifles, and tracking hogs through the swamp."
Dawsey’s laughter echoed off the passing trees. "You’re right, they would. I’ve always said it’s a blessing Dilsey had sons."
Hooper raised his brows. "Two sets of twin boys born less than a year apart? Is that a blessing or double trouble? Those four scamps run their mother aground."
"And provide endless joy for your pa," she added, laughing harder. Sobering, she squeezed his hand. "I wish my father had lived to see the last two born."
"So do I." He patted her hand. "I really miss the old man."
Dawsey tilted her head. "Do you ever wonder what might’ve happened if the Wilkeses and McRaes hadn’t found each other? I’d never have known I had a sister." She pointed between them. "Or that we share a sister, as madly improper as it sounds unless you know the story. And—the most amazing part of all—that you and I would fall in love and get married, forever blending our families."
He laughed. "Take a breath before you grow faint."
She fanned her flushed face. "I’m sorry, but after all these years, I’m still awed by the way God worked out the details."
Hooper smiled. "If you think about it, our families were blended from the day Pa brought our Ellie home."
Dawsey wrinkled her forehead. "You mean the day he kidnapped
our
Dilsey Elaine to raise as his own." She seemed to stare into
ELEVEN
Scuffletown, North Carolina
H ooper McRae tightened his fingers on the reins and eased the wagon to the right, dodging a gaping muddy rut straddling the middle of the road. Warmth stole over his heart, despite his aching shoulders and stiff hands. Soggy lanes and swampland were the first signs of nearing home.
Glancing at his sleeping wife curled on the seat beside him, he grinned and nudged her awake.
She moaned and stirred then squinted up with a drowsy smile, her pretty face dappled by the sunrise peeking over the horizon. "Hello, handsome stranger."
Hooper smoothed her red hair. "How do you sleep all bunched in a knot?"
Dawsey scratched her nose with the back of her hand. "It’s not easy, I can tell you that much. In fact, I’m not really sleeping … just dozing a little." Her groggy voice faded. "Merely resting my eyes."
Leaning closer, Hooper’s grin widened. "Were you planning to
doze
clear to Scuffletown?"
She yawned. "Don’t be silly. I intend to keep you company along the way."
"I appreciate the effort, honey, but you’re too late. We’re here."
Her startled eyes flashed open. Bolting upright, she stared around her. "We’re in Scuffletown? Hooper, that’s impossible." She spun to gaze at him. "You drove all night?"
He laughed around the yawn he’d caught from her. "I didn’t go to. The wheels kept turning while the road unfurled in front of me. Next thing I knew, we were pulling into Lumberton. No sense stopping twelve miles short of home."
Dawsey scooted closer on the seat and gripped his hand. "You’re no longer a Scuffletown resident, Mr. McRae. Hope Mills is where you hang your hat now and has been for more than ten years."
He shook his head. "Sorry, dumplin’. If I live in Hope Mills fifty more years, this bogged-down swamp will still be my home."
She giggled and stretched. "Oh Hooper, I can’t believe we’re here. I can hardly wait to see Dilsey and the twins."
He held up a warning finger. "Ellie, not Dilsey. If you insist on calling her that name, you’ll only make her mad."
She shot him a pout. "I do wish we could’ve brought our daughters to see your parents."
Hooper shook his head. "We made the right decision, Dawsey." He held up his fingers to count off the reasons they’d discussed. "It’s a long trip, and we don’t know when we’ll see Hope Mills again. The girls are in school. All their friends are there. They’re better off staying with Aunt Lavinia this time.
"Besides"—he winked—"a few days with their Aunt Ellie and your prissy daughters would be done up in britches, toting rifles, and tracking hogs through the swamp."
Dawsey’s laughter echoed off the passing trees. "You’re right, they would. I’ve always said it’s a blessing Dilsey had sons."
Hooper raised his brows. "Two sets of twin boys born less than a year apart? Is that a blessing or double trouble? Those four scamps run their mother aground."
"And provide endless joy for your pa," she added, laughing harder. Sobering, she squeezed his hand. "I wish my father had lived to see the last two born."
"So do I." He patted her hand. "I really miss the old man."
Dawsey tilted her head. "Do you ever wonder what might’ve happened if the Wilkeses and McRaes hadn’t found each other? I’d never have known I had a sister." She pointed between them. "Or that we share a sister, as madly improper as it sounds unless you know the story. And—the most amazing part of all—that you and I would fall in love and get married, forever blending our families."
He laughed. "Take a breath before you grow faint."
She fanned her flushed face. "I’m sorry, but after all these years, I’m still awed by the way God worked out the details."
Hooper smiled. "If you think about it, our families were blended from the day Pa brought our Ellie home."
Dawsey wrinkled her forehead. "You mean the day he kidnapped
our
Dilsey Elaine to raise as his own." She seemed to stare into
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