The Kissing Tree (27 page)

The paint brush froze in Georgiana’s hand as she paused to watch her son Michael teasing the little Carter girl, Maggie. At eight years old, he was so much like his father, the same wavy brown hair and brown eyes and the same sprinkle of freckles dotting his nose. Like his father too, he was born with the same predisposition to tease, as well as being known to pull a prank or two.

Looking around her, she quietly observed the families gathered at the Easter Day Picnic. Mrs. Whitaker was talking animatedly to an attentive group of women, no doubt sharing the local “news.” She only stopped long enough to scowl when a group of raucous young men, two of them being Georgiana’s brothers William and Aden, ran through the center of their huddle.

Suddenly, an old woman waddled by on the arm of Doc Hansen. Could that be old Mrs. Wickers, her former babysitter?
How can she possibly still be alive?
Georgiana thought incredulously. Still shaking her head in disbelief, she looked around again.

Jimmy and his wife, Millie, were sitting with his sister Lizzie and her husband, Reverend Stevens. She watched for a moment as he wrestled with one of his young boys. Millie stared up at him adoringly.

About three years ago, Jonas and Jeremiah had finally found and married two sisters willing to put up with them. Both women sat alone, tending small babes as the twins scoured the refreshment tables in search of food.

Next she looked over to where Dawson and Samantha sat under the shade tree. Dawson bounced their newest son, Nathaniel, on his knee while Samantha washed cherry pie from her daughter’s face. She’d missed her friend dearly since she’d married Dawson and moved to live in New York, but at least they both came out once a year to visit. She was grateful they had remained close and stayed in touch.

For a moment she thought about her mother and grandfather so far away. She had received a letter only yesterday and was so pleased they were having a pleasant time. They had been gone two months already, and she didn’t expect them back for at least another month. Her mother had plenty of funds now to travel with since her half of the inheritance had been restored. Indeed, this was their second trip to Ireland.

Aunt Cecelia had not even put up a fight. In fact, Aunt Cecelia deeded the house to her mother, even though the will stated it was to be hers, and left New York. No one knew where she’d gone or where she had settled, but after about a year, Mother received a letter. Much to their surprise, the return address was from Sacramento, California. Not one of them could believe it until the second letter came six months later with a wedding invitation. It seemed Georgiana’s aunt had fallen in love with a retired Spanish general who had a very large family, and who most ardently returned her affections. Mother had forgiven Aunt Cecelia long before and had traveled out west, accompanied by her father-in-law, of course, to the wedding. Granddad had plenty of time on his hands since he had retired and given the ranch to her and Ridge as a wedding present, although Ridge insisted on compensating him for at least some of its value.

In her letter from Ireland, Mother mentioned that while visiting, Grandfather proudly became a great uncle once again. On their first trip, they learned that Brody, who had returned to Ireland so long ago, had remarried. Her grandfather, much to his great delight, had lots of nieces and nephews as well as even more great-nieces and great-nephews. He wasn’t so alone in the world after all. Georgiana was pleased she had a passel of Irish cousins she hoped one day to meet. She was also grateful her grandfather and his brother had been reunited.

There was something else her mother had written though that made Georgiana especially delighted. Mother subtly alluded to the fact that she might be bringing someone back with her. Her mother had been corresponding with an Irish gentleman, secretly, since her first visit to Ireland. Georgiana hoped her mother had finally found someone to love again.

Most of all, Georgiana just couldn’t wait for her mother to return. She placed her hand affectionately on her abdomen. She would be needing her before too long.

Her eyes were drawn to where Ridge stood pushing their daughters, six-year-old Shannon and three-year-old Angela, on the swings. As she watched, he glanced up, caught her staring, and waved. She waved back. Smiling, he whispered into Shannon’s ear, and she hopped off the swing as he helped Angela down. Shannon took a hold of her sister’s hand, and both she and Angela ran over to where Dawson and Samantha sat.

Her heart sped up as Ridge began walking her way. He still had such an effect on her, and when he took her hand and drew her close, she had to fight the goose bumps threatening to break out all over her body. Leaning forward, he whispered into her ear.

“Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” He smiled his crooked smile, and her heart fluttered.

“Well, that depends. What are you thinking?” She smiled back up at him.

“Well, I was thinkin’ it was about time we visited an old friend.”

“Old friend?” she questioned.

“Yeah, you know, make sure he remembers us.”

A knowing grin spread across her face as she anticipated what he was inferring. He beamed back.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, careful not to upset her easel and paints, and walked up the street toward the old oak. Ducking under its branches, he walked up to its trunk and set her down. Instantly she wrapped her arms around his neck and began playing with his hair. Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her close.

“I was wondering, Mrs. Carson, if I try to steal a kiss, will you slap me or give it freely?”

“Well, Mr. Carson, me dear, I suppose that depends on just what sort of kiss ye were thinkin’ of stealin’ from me now.” She winked at him as she spoke in a feigned Irish brogue.

“Oh, it’s that way, now is it? There are conditions.” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “What if I were to steal a peck, like this?”

He leaned forward and quickly kissed her lips.

“Well then, me thinks I would hardly have time to make me choice because ’twould be over too soon.”

He got a devilish look in his eyes.

“What if I tease you a little first before I kissed you?”

This time he slowly and tenderly brushed his lips along her skin, from her ear, down her neck, finally coming to her mouth, hovering above it briefly before finally taking her lips for his own. After a moment, he pulled back and looked into her eyes again. She waited until her heartbeat calmed before answering.

“Well, now,” she began, “it’s hard to say. Though such a kiss as that might make me forget me very own name,” she admitted freely.

He smiled deliciously before he spoke again.

“What if I then take your lips in a madly driven kiss that told tale of how much I want you for my own?”

Her heart began to beat dangerously wild as his lips found hers in a moist, driven kiss of pure passion. It was a masterful kiss that made her limbs tremble. She was entirely undone, and when he broke the seal of their lips, it took several seconds in order to catch her breath before she could speak.

“After that, me dear husband, I could do nothin’ but love ye in return, for with that kiss ye own me, body and soul, forever.”

Smiling blissfully, she looked deep into his eyes. She was happy and could want for nothing else in this life than the man who stood before her, gazing affectionately back. She could not believe she ever doubted that he loved her as much as she loved him. His next words echoed her very thoughts.

“I love you, Mrs. Georgiana Anne Carson, so much that I never want ya to doubt it.” A twinkle lit his eyes. “That’s why I’ll be kissin’ you again, a combination of all three kisses, just so ya know for sure.”

“I have been known to be a ‘doubting Thomas’ at times, so ye just make sure ye convince me good, then I’ll never be doubtin’ your intentions toward me again.”

“You’ll know,” he promised emphatically.

Once again he kissed her, and she melted in his arms.

Prudence Bice has loved writing her entire life. Born in Orange County, California, as one of eleven children, she always felt drawn to stories that spoke to and kindled her romantic heart. Having overcome tragedy in her own life, the inspiration for her first novel was sparked by her desire to ignite true romantics everywhere with a wholesome, feel-good story about the power of love in rising above the pain and suffering from loss.

Prudence resides in St. George, Utah, with her husband, Ray, and their four daughters and one son. Her hobbies include drawing, photography, music, writing, and, of course, reading anything she can get her hands on! Currently she is majoring in English at Dixie State College and loving it. The future is bright, she says. Every day she wakes up with a prayer in her heart and a story in her head. She never thought life could be so good!