Page 28 of Mail Order Moose

Ella looked at it. Broad hand. Work-roughened. Patient. Waiting.

She took it, not because the bridge frightened her, and not because she needed him to lead her across.

She took it because she chose him. For the rest of her days, she chose David.

David’s fingers closed around hers. “What is it?” he asked, perhaps hearing the change in her breath.

Ella looked up at him beneath the dark Alaskan sky. The words did not come loudly. They did not need to.

“I am glad I married you,” she said. “You’ve always tried to understand me and cared for me with no explanation. I love you, David.”

David went very still, the way he did when something mattered too much to answer quickly. Then his thumb moved once over her glove.

“Ella,” he said, and her name held so much tenderness that it was answer enough. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. In the beginning, I never thought you’d say anything.” He chuckled for a moment. “You’ve changed my entire life. Brought order to the whole town. I never would have believed there was a woman like you. I love you, Ella.”

They crossed the bridge together. Beyond it, the cabin waited with smoke lifting from the chimney and lamplight faint at the window. Ella no longer felt like she had to earn a place there. She felt like a woman walking home.

Not because she had learned to be louder.

Because she had learned her quiet voice mattered.

As she walked into her home, she looked around, thinking about how much it had changed already, and how much it would still change. When babies started coming their way, she’d have to adjust things, but she already knew how she would. That was how her mind worked.

“I’ll get supper,” she said.

“I’ll get enough wood in to last until tomorrow evening.”

She could hear him chopping wood as she quickly chopped carrots, potatoes, and onions for a soup she was making. It felt...oddly good to hear him, to know he was there and always would be.

For the first time she let herself daydream about their future children. She wanted a boy just like him. She wanted a dozen girls who were just like him. Then she realized she simply wanted all of her children to be like David. She even pictured his face on a little girl, dressed in a cute little dress. She shook her head, laughing slightly.

She paused. She’d laughed three times in the past two weeks. She didn’t remember laughing much after her mother had remarried.

She sighed. Her stepfather had done much to silence her tongue and had made her leave the only home she’d ever known and go to work in a hotel, but suddenly she wanted to write him a letter, thanking him.

She wouldn’t be where she was without his influence. And where she was just happened to be the only place in the world she wanted to be.

Epilogue

Sixteen months later

Ella lay still for a moment as one of the babies made a sound. She hoped Samuel—her son—would quiet on his own and not wake Hope. When his sounds grew louder, she crept out of bed and picked him up from his cradle. His sister’s cradle was right beside his. The babies had been sleeping through the night better, and she’d hoped these early morning feedings were over, but Samuel had other plans.

She moved to the rocking chair David had lovingly crafted for her as soon as they’d realized she was expecting. She put the baby to her breast, and her mind started to go over what she must do before her friends came to visit her.

She needed to put blankets by the fire, so they would be warm for whoever needed them. She’d fix a pot of coffee, as well as a pot of tea, so everyone would have something hot to drink. She’d prepare a quiet corner—not just for herself. She’d found all of her friends used it from time to time when they needed to get away from the constant chatter.

It was two hours later that her friends were set to arrive. Both babies had been fed, but when she went to put Hope into her cradle, the baby spit up all over her clean apron. And as she put Hope down, she could smell Samuel, and she sighed, knowing she needed to change him, and the cabin would smell when her friends arrived.

Lula was the first to come in, and Ella opened her mouth to apologize for the chaos, but she closed it. There was no reason for her to apologize for the babies doing what all babies did.

When Ella put Samuel down, she looked at the cabin again. The blankets by the fire were already unfolded. She hadn’t gotten the last of the baby clothes put away, and they were all over. Lula had already taken Hope from her cradle and was talking to her in an excited voice.

Belle stood in front of the stove warming her hands, while Maggie put the baked goods Myrtle had brought onto the table.

The cabin was crowded, noisy, and imperfect. But the room didn’t feel too small this time. She realized the room was full because her life was full. These people filled her with joy and friendship. Her life is better with them in it.

After everyone left, David and Ella sat together, each of them holding one of the twins.