UNBROKEN PROMISE

~23~ Least I can do

The warm glow of the fire in the parlor cast a comforting light across the room as Jacob leaned back in his chair, watching Megan settle onto the sofa. The day had been long and full of emotions, but now, with Caleb tucked into bed and the ranch quiet for the night, there was a stillness that invited a rare sense of peace. Megan’s movements were slower than usual, and the way she eased herself onto the cushion didn’t escape Jacob’s notice.

His grin widened as he stood, crossing the room toward her. Megan looked up as he approached, her green eyes tired but still sparkling with that mischievous glint he loved. Before she could say a word, Jacob reached down and lifted her effortlessly from the sofa, cradling her against his chest as he sat back down in her place.

“Jacob!” Megan gasped, though her voice was more playful than startled. She let out a soft sigh as she snuggled into his chest, her arms looping around his neck. “What’re you doin’, haulin’ me around like I’m a sack of flour?”

Jacob chuckled, the deep sound rumbling in his chest. “You ain’t no sack of flour,” he teased, kissing the top of her head. “You’re my wife, and I figured you could use a little extra care tonight.”

Megan rolled her eyes, though the blush creeping across her cheeks betrayed her pleasure. She let her head rest against his shoulder, her body relaxing in his hold. Jacob’s large hand began to rub soothing circles on her back, slowly making its way lower to her bottom. The gentle pressure earned a soft sigh from Megan, though she winced slightly as his hand brushed against the tenderest spots.

“Still sore?” Jacob asked, his voice low and warm as he paused his movements.

Megan nodded against his chest, her voice muffled. “Mm-hmm.”

Jacob chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “Well, that’s no surprise,” he said, his hand resuming its gentle strokes. “You earned yourself quite the wallopin’ today.”

Megan groaned, burying her face deeper into his shirt. “Don’t remind me,” she muttered, though there was no real bitterness in her tone.

Jacob grinned, tilting her face up with a finger under her chin. “How ‘bout this, then,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers with a rare softness. “Why don’t you go grab that liniment oil from the cabinet, and I’ll meet you upstairs? I’ll give ya a nice massage, help ease some of that soreness. Least I can do after the day you’ve had.”

Megan blinked up at him, her mouth falling open slightly in surprise. Jacob wasn’t one to go easy after a punishment—he believed in the importance of learning from mistakes and rarely softened the consequences. For him to offer this kind of tenderness now was unexpected, but it melted her heart all the same.

“You’re serious?” she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

Jacob chuckled again, leaning in to kiss her nose. “Serious as can be,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You were just tryin’ to defend Oma, Meg. I get that. Don’t mean you didn’t deserve what you got, but I reckon I can help make it a little easier on ya now.”

A small, grateful smile spread across Megan’s lips, and she nodded. “Alright,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jacob set her down carefully, watching as she stood and headed toward the cabinet to fetch the liniment oil. His gaze followed her, his heart swelling with affection for the stubborn, spirited woman he called his wife. By the time she returned, the small bottle of oil in her hand, Jacob was standing at the base of the staircase, waiting with his arms crossed and a teasing grin on his face.

“Well, come on, then,” he said, holding out his arms.

Megan rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the giggle that bubbled up as she stepped toward him. Before she could protest, Jacob scooped her up into his arms once again, earning another soft laugh as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.