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Prophetic words, because four months after Tuck and Marian’s big day, we held a smaller, quieter celebration of our own. Not in town, but under the oaks of Sherwood Forest.
“Don’t you look a picture.” John Little smiled at us both.
I turned from side to side, letting my dress swish. “Cement this moment into your mind, my dear bear, because this may be the last time you see me look this good.”
“It’s the flowers,” Willa joked, touching the wreath on my head, then hers.
She’d made both, using the prettiest of the spring flowers that seemed to bloom everywhere now that winter had given way to spring and spring was knocking on summer’s door. She’d even made one for Daniel.
“Sorry, ladies. I think mine is the best,” he chuckled, touching his headdress.
“I think we all look good,” Robert said, flicking his messier flower necklace.
All the Merry Men wore one of those — as did Sausage, George, and Connie, the camp dogs. But Robert’s was the best, because Bess’s children had made it for him.
Whose children? he growled into my mind.
I chuckled. Sorry. Your children.
His eyes slid to Bess’s belly, and he puffed his chest out a little. All four.
Yes, my exasperating, bumbling brother was a young father now, with Bess’s three plus a fourth on its way. And I had to hand it to him — he was doing a fine job as doting dad and loving partner. I’d never seen him — or Bess — look happier. They lived on her farm on the edge of the forest, where they had been working hard to make the coming harvest a plentiful one.
“You do look good. Both of you,” my father said, looping one arm around Robert and the other around me.
I leaned into him, closing my eyes. My father had always been our rock and our role model, demanding the highest standards from us both—
Okay, higher standards for me than dear, dimwitted Robert, but still…
—so I’d spent many a sleepless night worrying about what he would think of my life as an outlaw.
“I’m so proud.” He kissed the top of my head, then Robert’s. “Your mother would be too.”
“You think so?” Robert sniffed quietly.
“I know so,” my father said.
The three of us held each other for a while. Then a couple of small, thin arms joined in from behind, and I peeked down to find Bess’s son, Tom.
“There’s my boy,” Robert cheered, lifting him and spinning him around.
“My boy too,” my father whispered, watching them both.
A good thing I was all cried out by then, so only a happy lump formed in my throat. Whew.
I looked at Robert, my father, and Daniel. Then I looked around the beautiful forest camp that had once been my home. I loved my new life in Nottingham, but Sherwood Forest would forever hold a special place in my heart.
I looked at my friends next, gathered together for this happy occasion. As always, I was awed at how well things had worked out.
“Can I tempt you with the abbey’s finest brew, Mr. Hood?” Tuck broke into my reverie, coming up with two frothy mugs.
No man would ever hold a candle to Daniel in my eyes, but damn, did Tuck cut a fine figure as a noble lord — a down-to-earth, cheery lord who’d won the hearts of the people of Nottingham after only a few months on the job.
Well, he’d had the women’s hearts from day one. But most men had expressed their grudging approval by now too.
“Don’t mind if I do.” My father took a mug, clinked with Tuck, and downed his drink in one gulp. He hadn’t become Locksley’s armorer by being a lightweight. Then he stuck an elbow toward me. “Shall we?”
I looped my arm through his and grinned at Daniel. “Ready if you are.”
