I grinned. "Yup." Happiness flowed through my heart. It didn't seem that life could hold any more joy than it did right now, and yet somehow, every day it grew just a little bit more. All because of a girl who once bravely walked into my office and proposed marriage. All because I'd finally had the courage to surrender to my sweet little witch and in return, she'd given me a houseful of spirited girls who climbed trees, pretended to be caterpillars, sassed me back on occasion, put me in my place very regularly, reminded me often I was definitely not the ruler in my own home, and generally drove me to distraction.
I set Isabelle down and we entered the small cottage where, once upon a time, a very beautiful witch had lived, and found four-year-old Celia outfitted as a princess, sipping tea at the miniature table in the front room. Several years ago, we'd had the cottage cleaned, updated, and turned into a playhouse for our girls.
"We're going to have another sister!" Belle shouted.
Celia's plastic cup stopped halfway to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. "Another sister," she said, jumping to her feet. She wobbled toward me on plastic heels and threw herself into my arms as I bent to catch her. "Thank you, Daddy. I wished for a little sister."
I smiled into her beautiful heart-shaped face, her green eyes bright with happiness and the slight bit of mischief they always held. "It's my job you know, to make all your wishes come true."
Her expression turned thoughtful as she twirled a lock of her dark hair. "Can I have a pony then?"
I used my index finger to bop her on her nose. "And," I qualified, "not to spoil you rotten."
"Hmm," she grumped, but I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. She was already plotting a way to get that pony.
I laughed and the three of us went up to the main house where Charlotte was in the kitchen. I took a deep inhale, the air fragrant with a sweet, lemony scent.
"Grammy Charlotte," Celia called. "We're having a baby sister!"
Charlotte laughed and caught Celia in her arms as Isabelle hugged Charlotte's waist. "I know, my loves; I heard the wonderful news. Should we celebrate with a lemon bar, fresh from the oven?"
"Or maybe two?" Celia tilted her head and smiled prettily.
I laughed. "Watch that one."
Charlotte grinned as I kissed her on her cheek. "Have you seen Kira?" I asked.
"I think she went out back," she said, setting Celia down. "You go find her, I've got these two." She smiled happily, and I left knowing how overjoyed and thankful she felt with a houseful of little girls to spoil and coddle and love. And bake treats for.
I winked at her and went in search of my wife, having an idea where she might be. As I walked down the hill, I looked out over the grapevines beyond, my chest swelling with pride. Eight years ago, we'd brought this vineyard back from the brink of ruin with the money Jessica had given me, lots of hard work, and plenty of loyal friends. Since then, we'd grown more successful every year, even winning several awards for the wines produced. Hawthorn Vineyard was thriving, and I was especially proud of the fact that we now employed almost two hundred people, many of whom were ex-cons just looking for a second chance, looking for someone to believe in them. Harley, now my director of operations, had inspired that idea. And a few other businesses in Napa had even followed suit when word got out about how loyal and hardworking our employees were.
Kira's gram's money had eventually been unlocked, long before the trial was over that put Cooper Stratton behind bars for a whole laundry list of crimes. Frank Dallaire had never been proven guilty of participating in anything illegal, but as he knew better than anyone, in politics, perception is everything. No one wanted to be linked to the suspicion that surrounded his name. He disappeared from the political landscape and, as far as we knew, was no longer involved in government at all. Nor was he involved in our life.
Thankfully though, we weren't lacking for family, including Shane and Vanessa. They now had two boys who visited often and always left looking slightly stunned after our girls ran roughshod over them, playing tricks, forcing them to play dress-up, and participate in slightly naughty escapades.
"I thought I'd find you here," I said, turning the last corner of the well-tended maze. I smiled as I joined Kira on the bench in front of the splashing fountain where she sat with her hand on her tiny baby bump. The emeralds from her wedding ring flashed in the sun, reminding me of the day I'd slipped it on her finger as we'd renewed our vows in a small sunlit ceremony under the apricot tree in our vineyard. I'd wanted to give her a real wedding day, one filled with love, joy, and family—and that's what I'd done.