The Doctor's Wife

  Ellie had loved her enough to let her go. And the Mastersons had loved her enough to accept her as their own.

  Ellie had done the right thing.

  As they walked down the stairs together, Ellie knew satisfaction and pride of a new and serene kind. Caleb met her gaze, and she smiled, loving him even more. He had given her yet another gift this day—the gift of closure.

  “You’ll come again?” Marissa asked as they said their goodbyes and stood on the front walk.

  The girls had dashed over to the swing and stopped squabbling over who would use it first long enough to wave.

  “I’d like that,” Ellie said. “Thank you.”

  “And you’ll bring the boys?”

  “We’ll bring them,” Caleb replied.

  Caleb helped Ellie up to the buggy seat. She waved at the Mastersons, who stood together in the shade of their porch.

  The horses pulled away. Ellie leaned against Caleb and he caught her in one arm and drew her to his side. “How was that for a surprise?” he asked.

  “As surprises go, it was probably one of the best I’ll ever have.” She tucked her head against his shoulder. She gazed up at him. Goldie had been right. The day Ellie had fallen off that platform at the railroad station had been the luckiest day of her life. Caleb had not only known how to heal her arm, but he had known exactly what she’d needed to heal all the hurts and misgivings of her former life.

  Because of his love and his strength she’d been able to put her past behind her and could now look forward to her future—their future—a concept she’d only dreamed of, a future as a family. Because of Caleb she had her brothers, a newly adopted son, renewed faith in people and a newfound acceptance of herself.

  She had survived and started over. Ellen Foster Chaney was a woman of character and stamina, and she had a lot of love left to give.

  “I just might surprise you one of these days, too,” she said to her husband.

  “How’s that?”

  “Now if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, right?” She smiled to herself, trying to recall—and not remembering—all those good reasons she’d had for not wanting a baby.