Every Rose Has a Thorn (The Patriot Romance story)

Final Chapter

"William!" Clara squealed from the kitchen, Tavington raced down the stairs, fearing the worst.

"Something wrong?"

"The baby's kicking!" She giggled, the Colonel went over and placed his hand over her belly, sure enough after a moment, he felt a little kick.

"Amazing." He said in pure awe, the baby continued to kick, William marveled at the experience, "When are you due?"

"4 more months!" She grinned, Tavington picked her up and spun her around.

"Oh I can't wait!" He litters her face with kisses, Clara giggles and smiles at her husband.

"How does the nursery look?"

"Amazing," He says, "And soon a little baby will fill up the space."

"You're going to be an amazing father."

"What if it hates me?" He said as he put his wife down and frowned, "What if I'm not a good father?"

"William Tavington, don't say that. You are going to be an amazing father, whenever you are close to me or embracing me, the baby kicks. He or She is already attached to you."

"You think?"

"I know it."

William ran into the bedroom to see his wife laying in bed, holding a large bundle of white blanket.

"You just missed the delivery," Carmel said with a smile, dabbing Clara's forehead with a cold cloth. William slowly went over to his wife and looked down at her. She was holding two beautiful little babies who were sleeping.

"One boy, one girl."

William smiles at his kids and lets a happy tear fall down, he picks up his daughter and kisses her forehead.

"What do we name them?"

"How about Rose for the girl," Clara said and looked down at her son, "Thorne for the boy."

"I love that." He says, looking down at his daughter, "They are beautiful. I'm sure Rose will look just like her mother."

"Thorne is going to be just as handsome and brave as his father." Clara smiles, holding her son close to her chest. Now they were a perfect, happy, family all together.

........

"Momma!" 6 year old Rose, cried out to her mother, she had red hair just like her mother and blue eyes like her father, Clara came running out of the house and saw her daughter in the garden.

"Something wrong?"

"The flower hurt me!" Rose whimpered, Clara looked at her daughters finger that was pricked by a rose thorn, "I thought flowers were supposed to be nice and pretty!"

"Well," Clara picked Rose up and held her, "Not everything is as it seems. Every rose has a thorn."

"Huh?"

"Something may look beautiful and sweet on the outside but on the inside it may hurt you."

"I don't understand..." Rose frowned, Clara thought for a moment and smiled.

"Then I have a perfect example."

"What is it?"

"Its about how your father and I met each other."

Rose grinned and wrapped her small arms around her mothers neck as Clara sat on the grass.

"Well, it happened on October 18th, 1776...."