Wyatt grinned and wrapped his arm around Greta and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Reckon when we McQuaids see a good thing and know what we want, we don’t waste any time in going after it.”

Flynn tugged Linnea closer into the crook of his arm. “Reckon when we realize God’s given us a partner who can make us into a better person, we aim to make the most of the time.”

Brody eyed Savannah with a hungry look. The man didn’t have to speak for everyone to know what he was thinking. As Wyatt punched his arm, Brody managed a half grin amidst the teasing and laughter that wafted around them.

Ivy slipped her hand into Jericho’s and laced her fingers through his. The simplest touch set him on fire just as it always had. And he was relieved he didn’t have to hold himself back any longer, that she was his in the sight of God and man.

“This wedding might seem hasty,” Jericho said. “But let me tell you, it’s been a long time coming.”

“Amen to that.” Judd’s words drew laughter. “Guess it’s a good thing we got the barn built, ’cause I know where I’ll be sleepin’ tonight.”

As more laughter and chatter filled the air, Jericho peered down at Ivy’s upturned face, her beauty taking his breath away.

“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes radiating it.

She hadn’t yet spoken those words to him, and it hadn’t mattered. But now with her declaration out there, he had all he needed to make his life complete—the love of the good Lord and the love of a good woman.

He bent down and brushed his lips against hers. “I love you too, Mrs. Bliss. Now and forever.”

Chapter
31

Dylan McQuaid
Chicago, Illinois
June 1870

Dylan McQuaid rubbed a hand across his eyes and then blinked them open to daylight and a cracked ceiling overhead. At the throbbing in his temples, he let out a low moan, which could hardly escape past the dryness of his mouth. He was hungover.

At a caress across his chest, he sat up abruptly, finding himself in a strange bed with a strange woman.

“You’re awake, finally.” The woman ran her fingers up his bare back.

“Where am I?” He glanced around the tiny room with a dingy set of drawers with chipped blue paint, a scuffed wooden chair where he’d tossed his clothes, a lone window without any curtains, and a rusty metal bedframe.

“Remember, we’re at my sister’s place.” The woman wrapped both hands around his bicep and tugged at him, trying to draw him back down to the mattress beside her. “When I told her we were engaged, she said we could stay.”