CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THERE WAS NOTHING subtle about the knock on the door. Nor Luke’s response. He was out of the bed before Josie could work her way up from the blankets.
“Who is it?” he asked from the center of the room before moving to a spot three feet to the right of the door. Predawn gray infiltrated the room in random strips. The faint light glinted off the barrel of the revolver he held at the ready. Looking back at her, he put his finger to his lips before pointing to the floor. Did he want her to hide under the bed? She remembered what he’d told her about spiders. She was not hiding under the bed, but she did sidle to the edge of it. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest.
“It’s Ed. Bella’s having the baby.”
Ed? No! What if he caught her here? Her reputation would be ruined. And then. Oh my God. Bella!
Luke lowered his gun and stepped back. “I’ll be right there.”
She had a brief moment to admire the set of Luke’s shoulders and the tightness of his buttocks before he moved out of the light.
Behind the door, Ed cleared his throat. Luke looked at her. She looked at him and raised her hands. She had no idea what he wanted.
“Is there something else?” he asked, pulling on his pants.
“Tia thought Josie might like a change of clothes.”
Josie’s embarrassment, which she’d thought couldn’t get any worse, multiplied by ten. They knew? How?
With a shake of his head, Luke walked to the door. By the time his hand hit the handle, Josie had the sheet pulled over her head. The doorknob rattled. She moaned under her breath. This would be the perfect time for the floor to open up and swallow her.
“How’s Bella doing?”
“We don’t know yet. Doc says it will be a while.”
“Tell Tia thanks.”
“I will. By the way, she said, ‘Congratulations.’”
Josie groaned. Congratulations? Wonderful. Now there was pressure where before there had been none.
The door clicked closed.
From under the covers, she announced, “I am never coming out of this room.”
“That’s fine by me.”
The sheets were tugged out of her hand and pulled down below her navel. The mattress dipped as Luke sat beside her. “Even better if you don’t come out of my bed.” He leaned over her and propped himself up on his hand. “What do you think?”
He loomed over her like a big cat, a visual feast for her senses with all those sleek muscles exposed. She remembered how the sprinkling of dark hair had tickled her palms when she stroked him. Her fingers curled over the memory. Her “I think it’s a possible alternative” was a bit breathless.
“To what?”
“To my dying of shame.”
Playing with a lock of her hair, he drew it over her nipple. She shivered at the tickle, the sensitive peak drawing up tight. He cocked a brow at her and smiled that slow lazy smile of his. “Have you done something of which you’re ashamed?”
Had she? The softness in his expression mesmerized her. Reminded her. The reality of last night was completely opposite from what she’d been raised to believe. His calloused fingers cupped her breast. She arched into the heat. “Mmm.” Debating her feelings a second more, she came to a conclusion. “No.”
Leaning in, he kissed her softly, capturing the soft sound. “Good.”
She smiled against his lips. “But I have no idea how to brazen out being so...brazen.”
“Oh, my darlin’, that’s the easy part.” Brushing her hair away from her face, he cupped her cheek. “All you do is hold my hand.”
“And you’ve got my back?”
“Always.”
She believed him. “Thank you.”
With a playful smack on her hip, he stood and ordered, “And now, you shameless woman, you need to stop tempting me and get dressed.”
Shameless. She liked that. Almost as much as she liked the knowledge she could tempt him. She stretched, watching him watch her, enjoying the feminine power that put that heat in his gaze and that hardness in his pants. He was such a beautiful man. Like a sculpture come to life. Solid and strong with muscular shoulders that flowed to strong arms and a washboard stomach. She liked that he had just enough hair on his chest to accent the muscle beneath. She liked the way that hair skipped his stomach, but picked up below his navel to form a narrow path that disappeared into the open fly of his heavy cotton pants. She liked how he loved for her to touch him. She’d been a little overwhelmed this time, but next time they made love, she wanted to nibble and taste all of him the way he’d tasted her. Next time—
“What are you thinking?” he asked, reaching for his shirt.
“That I’d like to bite your chest.”
It just popped out. His eyes narrowed and the space between them filled with heat. He finished shrugging into his shirt. She never wanted to forget how he looked right then. Intensely masculine. Predatory. All man. Her man.
“When this is done, I’m going to hold you to that,” he drawled.
“I hope so.”
She wouldn’t want to chicken out.
He tossed her the bundle of clothes Ed had given him. “Now, stop teasing me and get dressed. I’m about to be an uncle.”
* * *
LUKE WATCHED JOSIE CLOSELY. She was desperately trying to be nonchalant about sliding out of bed, but the blush covering her from chest to cheek betrayed her insecurity. She didn’t have a damn thing to worry about. He wasn’t going anywhere. The woman was amazing. She had an intrepid streak that came out at the most surprising times, and an enjoyment for life that she pretended didn’t exist. Most women would have been cowed by the tornado. Definitely been done in by the bandits, but Josie just flourished when challenged. He still couldn’t believe she’d ridden into that camp on a bomb. They were definitely going to have to talk about her reckless streak. As much as he appreciated her wild side, she couldn’t risk herself that way.
As she sat on the bed, sorting out the bundle, Luke acknowledged they had another problem. Along with being reckless, Josie was unconventional, afraid of the commitments most women craved. Society wasn’t kind to unconventional women. He’d have to come up with a way for them to work in the bigger world, but Josie didn’t need to hear all that right now. Right now she was a woman who’d just crossed the threshold from virgin to lover. He had a few regrets about how that had occurred. But he wouldn’t take back one second of it, except for the aftermath. He definitely needed to make up for the aftermath.
Falling asleep immediately thereafter had not been his finest moment. Never mind that he’d slept with her held tight in his arms—a woman deserved cuddling and reassurance. He’d just expected to have more time before the world intruded. Assumption was a dangerous thing, because now Josie’d had the passion without the reassurance and the insecurity that often ensued showed in the way she fumbled with the tie on her pantaloons while covetously eyeing the wash basin. Another regret. He’d meant to be the one to bathe her.
Sitting beside her on the bed, he took the pantaloons from her hand and detangled the string. “Just so you know, I had a different plan for how you would wake up.”
“Oh?” She smoothed out her camisole.
“Oh, definitely.” He handed her back the pantaloons. “I planned on waking you with kisses from here—” he tapped the top of her head “—to here.” He lightly tapped tip of her nose.
Her smile fluttered as he trailed his fingers down the side of her neck. She clutched the pantaloons in a death grip. “You did?”
He nodded. “And then I definitely would have kissed you here and here.” He lightly tweaked each nipple.
She gasped. It was his turn to smile. Trailing his fingers downward, skimming her belly, he circled her navel before continuing on to cup her still-damp pussy. She felt small and delicate in his hand. “I planned on lingering a good while here.”
And just when she thought she knew what he was about, he retraced his path until he found her heart. Opening his hand there, he finished, “But here was where I wanted to spend the most time.”
She blinked. Was that a tear? He didn’t want her sad.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep last night before we got to talk,” he continued. “But know this. Last night? That was real. That was us. Pure and simple. That’s what I want from now on. Remember that today if things get crazy or you start feeling scared, all right?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Getting up, he poured water into the basin. “I’m going to give you some privacy to wash up and get dressed.”
He chuckled at the fervency of her thank-you.
“Don’t get too used to privacy. You’re an exciting, desirable woman, and I’m looking forward to bathing you and dressing you when you’re more settled into the thought.”
“Oh.”
“Is that disappointment or excitement?”
“I think shock.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Have I ever mentioned I like your honesty?”
“No, but I had an idea.”
“Good.” He motioned to the fine wool stockings. He did love a woman’s legs in stockings. “Do you need help with those?”
“I may be new to this, but even I know that if you help we’re not getting out of here.”
She was on to him. “Good call.”
With a twirl of her finger, she said, “Weren’t you going to give me privacy?”
He turned, staring at the wall.
“No peeking.”
He smiled. “I promise.”
He might not peek, but he could listen. The splashing of water, the glide of the cloth over smooth sweet flesh. The whisper of clothing being donned. It was a seductive melody he thoroughly enjoyed.
A tap on his shoulder turned him around.
“Could you fasten my dress?”
“With pleasure.”
Turning, she lifted her hair. He fastened the buttons with more speed than he wanted to. There was something completely arousing about a woman submissively waiting on her man to make her presentable. He pressed a kiss on the nape of her neck before buttoning the last two. A shiver took her from head to toe. Satisfaction sank deep.
“Just a little something to keep you thinking about me.”
“I don’t think I need a reminder.”
“Maybe I do.”
Turning, she smiled up at him. “You don’t. That much I learned last night.”
“So you were paying attention.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.”
“Do you have a brush?”
“A comb?”
She shook her head before he could get it. “That’s never going to work. I’ll make do for now.”
Gathering her hair, she twisted it into a bun. “Oh darn, where are my pins?”
“On the floor. I landed on one when I jumped out of bed.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” He handed them to her as he picked them up. She put them in and then all that was left was to open the door and go out into the world. He opened the door. She bit her lip and hesitated.
He held out his hand. “Trust me, Josie.”
* * *
THE OPTIMISM THAT had thrived when Bella first went into labor was fading fast. The birth was not going well. Josie sat on the settee beside Luke and tried not to panic. The normally peaceful home rang discordantly with stressful voices. Bella’s screams and occasionally Dr. Shane’s orders easily carried out from the bedroom. Sam’s curses were getting more inventive. Tia’s and Bettina’s voices were much more muted. Josie was glad she wasn’t in there.
“I hope like hell Doc knows what he’s doing,” Luke muttered.
“If he doesn’t, Tia does, so between the two of them, they have this handled,” Josie countered with more optimism than she felt. Births went wrong all the time.
Bella screamed again. Ed swore. Luke jumped up and strode to the liquor cabinet. He poured an amber liquid into three glasses. “I don’t know what Sam will do if Bella doesn’t make it.”
“We’re not talking that way,” Ed said. “She’ll make it.”
“I don’t know what either of them will do if the babies don’t make it,” Josie whispered, letting her own fears into the light.
“They’ll get through it,” Ed stated firmly. “Whatever happens, they’ll get through it.”
Luke’s “Yeah” lacked conviction.
Josie tried to imagine what she would do if she were Bella and she lost her babies. She couldn’t conceive of it, not only losing the babies, but being pregnant in the first place. She’d never planned on carrying life within her. In light of recent events, she might need to reconsider that possibility. She glanced at Luke. Life, she was discovering, was more than the clean, safe plan she’d envisioned.
He shoved a glass into her hand.
“What’s this?”
“Whiskey.”
Her response was automatic. “I don’t drink hard spirits.”
“You don’t or ladies don’t?”
She didn’t have an answer. It was another one of those things that just was. “I don’t know.”
Sitting down beside her, he tapped his glass against hers. “Maybe it’s time to find out.”
Maybe it was.
“Take it easy on that first sip,” Ed warned. “Whiskey’s got a kick.”
She took a sniff and blinked. It was strong and smoky and mysterious. The kind of drink one of Savage’s heroines would favor. “What kind of kick?”
“It burns a little,” Luke explained.
She took a bold sip and swallowed fast. She thought they meant like chili peppers, but this burned in a whole different way. She coughed and the fumes stole her breath, causing her to cough again. Luke patted her back until the spasm was over. She finally caught her breath. Wiping her eyes, she croaked, “That more than burns.”
“You’re supposed to sip it, not throw it back.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Try it again.”
She handed Luke the glass. He pushed it back. “I don’t think so.”
“You’ve just got to go slow,” Ed said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
She eyed him suspiciously. “You wouldn’t be setting me up for a joke, would you?”
Luke tipped her glass up. “Trust me.”
What choice did she have after that? She took another sip, but eased into the swallow. The flavors spread through her mouth. It still burned, but this time it didn’t steal her breath, and when it hit her stomach, there was a warm, happy aftermath. “No wonder men drink this stuff. It’s warm like a hug from the inside out.”
Luke chuckled. “This is finer than what most men drink. This is Sam’s private stock.”
“We only get to raid it when he’s distracted,” Ed clarified.
It was a joke. She would have smiled if Bella hadn’t screamed again just then.
The next sip she took was bigger. If alcohol could give her an oblivion, she’d like it now. Luke took the glass from her hand.
“Getting flat-out drunk isn’t the aim.”
“Ha! Men do it every Saturday night.”
“Some men,” he corrected, but he didn’t give her the drink back.
The door to the bedroom opened. Josie had a brief glimpse of Bella sitting up on her big four-poster bed. Her face was pale and shiny, her hair matted to her head with sweat. Tia and Bettina were on the other side of the bed looking grim. She couldn’t see the doctor. Sam shut the door behind him before closing his eyes and leaning back against it. For a moment he stood there, looking lost. His lips were white around the edges. Then, opening his eyes, he joined them in the living room.
“Better sit down before you fall down,” Luke told him.
Sam sat. Luke shoved Josie’s drink into his hand. He held it as if he didn’t realize what it was.
“Jesus, Luke, they’re going to cut her open.”
Oh dear heavens.
Luke said nothing. Ed cursed.
“Doc’s done everything he can without surgery,” Sam continued hollowly. “It’s the only option.”
It was Ed who broke the heavy silence. “Drink the whiskey, son. Get your feet back under you.”
Sam tossed the drink back like it was nothing.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her.”
“You won’t.”
“Or the babies.” Sam ran his hand through his blond hair. A long lock fell over his brow, making him look younger. And maybe even a little vulnerable. Human. “I don’t know what we’re going to do if we lose the babies.”
He sat there with his hands between his legs, the cup dangling, forgotten.
“So why aren’t you in there?” Luke asked, taking it from his hands and setting it on the table.
“They kicked me out.”
“Why?” Ed asked.
Sam looked up blankly. “Doc said I couldn’t do anything but get in the way.”
Josie blinked at that. How could anyone think, after seeing Sam with his Bella, that she was in any way stronger without him? “He’s wrong,” she whispered.
All three of them stared at her. “He’s wrong,” she repeated more strongly. “Bella needs you, Sam. No matter what happens, she needs to know you’re there with her.”
“She knows that.”
Luke poured him another shot. “She’s got a point, Sam. Since when did you ever listen to anybody when it came to your Bella?”
“Never.”
He handed him the glass. “Then why the hell are you starting now?”
“The hell if I know.” He shook his head. “Everyone keeps saying my being here is the right thing to do.”
Another scream.
“Josie’s right, son,” Ed cut in. “Bella needs you.”
Sam stood and set the untouched glass aside. His face was still pale, his lips pressed together, but he didn’t have that defeated look anymore. He paused at the door. “Thank you.”
Luke’s smile was forced. “I’ll be expecting a son named after me for this.”
“Go to hell,” he called over his shoulder before entering the room. The door didn’t fully close behind him.
Through the crack, Josie could see Bella lying flat on the big bed, looking so small and defenseless. The doctor placed a small knife beside a collection of scary equipment on the bed stand. Luke came to stand beside her. Everything that was about to happen became very real in that moment. And for once, she didn’t want to grab her camera.
Sam never hesitated. On an “I’ve decided I’m not missing this party,” he strolled up to his wife.
Through the crack, Josie caught a glimpse of Bella’s utter relief in seeing her Sam.
“You came back.”
Sam sat on the side of the bed and stroked Bella’s hair off her face. “There hasn’t been a day in the last two years, Bella, when you haven’t woken up and had me be there. It’ll be a cold day in hell before the first time happens on the day my children are born.”
Josie reached for Luke’s hand. Tears burned her eyes as he took it. He squeezed her fingers.
Please, God, let them all be fine, she prayed.
Sam kissed Bella gently. Her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thank you.”
His “I’ll be here when you wake up, love,” barely carried. The doctor soaked a rag with the contents of a bottle. Bettina closed the door.
The screaming stopped and the waiting resumed.
* * *
IT WAS AMAZING how ten minutes could stretch into an eternity, how silence could weigh like a house on your shoulders, how pacing could do nothing but wear out your nerves. Josie walked over to Luke, and without a word, sat in his lap. His arms came around her immediately.
“I’m scared,” she whispered against his chest.
“I know.”
Ed looked at them with a cock of his brow, then cleared his throat. “I’m going to step out and tell the men what’s going on.”
When the front door closed, Josie confessed, “I don’t know if I could do what Bella’s doing right now. That takes courage.”
“You’ve got courage.”
She immediately shook her head. “My courage comes from staying safe. Safe clothes. Safe demeanor. Safe ideas. That—” she waved her hand toward the door “—that takes bravery to a much higher level. I am much more conventional.”
“You’re one of the most unconventional women I’ve ever met.”
“Only lately.”
“Isn’t now about all that matters?”
“Not when you’re trying to stay safe. Then past, present and future are weapons that can be used against you whenever anyone wants.”
“Thinking that way leaves you fighting on all fronts at all times.”
She nodded. “It does that.” She thought back to her life before Jarl’s invitation, the constant worry. The constant stress. The relentless pretense. “More than that, it’s absolutely exhausting.”
He nodded. “I can see that.”
She wondered if he truly could. The sound of metal clanking on glass came through the door. As one they stiffened. His grip tightened on her arm. Her palm pressed against his chest. When no footsteps approached the door, when the knob didn’t turn, she released her breath and slowly relaxed.
Luke’s “I’ve never had safe” broke the silence.
She tilted her head back to see his expression. “Did you want it?”
His muscles shifted as he shrugged. “There was never a good time to ask the question and by the time I thought of it, it no longer mattered. I was Hell’s Eight.”
“I don’t understand.”
A tug on her hair tipped her face back. His eyes were dark and serious as they searched hers, his expression intent. He had a tiny scar on his cheek to the left of his nose. How had she not noticed that before?
With a nod of his head he indicated the bedroom. “What’s going on in that room, right there with Sam and Bella? That’s love. For good, for bad, through the best and the worst, they’re there for each other. Always. And stronger for it.”
“I know.”
This close there was no missing the skepticism in his gaze. “Do you? Because sometimes I get the impression that you think you’re the only one whoever feels alone.”
A feather could have knocked her over when she understood what he was implying. “You’ve felt alone?”
“Of course.”
How was that possible? He had the Hell’s Eight. He had Tia and Ed. He had everything he needed. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s to understand?”
His subsequent frown weighed heavily on her conviction. She had the absurd urge to bolt.
“Family can be there for you most times,” Luke continued, “but there are always those moments when you have to stand alone, either because of circumstances or because of choice.”
Understanding came in a flash. A “Yes” welled from a place deep inside where conviction struggled for acknowledgment. She’d left her town for the tiny chance she’d find a place in which to be herself out here in the West, following the possibility she’d found between the covers of Dane Savage’s novels. And now she was here. Stuck between potential and what she feared. Her options narrowed to fight or run. Similar options to those he must have faced so long ago when orphaned. How had he made the choices as a child that made him the strong man he was today?
She covered that tiny scar with her finger, feeling the imperfection she could no longer see. He was no more handsome without it. No less handsome with it. She wondered if he’d received it as a boy or a man, so she asked.
His hand came around hers as if searching for the memory through her touch. “Honestly, I don’t remember.” Another shrug. “I’ve got a lot of scars.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” And she hadn’t. She always saw him in totality, not bits and pieces.
The corner of his mouth crooked up. “Uh-huh.”
She was beginning to understand him. That scar was just a piece of his history he’d moved beyond. How did he do that? Snuggling into a more comfortable position, she asked, “So if you can’t tell me how you got the scar, can you tell me about how you lost your parents?”
She loved the way he arched his brows at her when he thought she’d taken their conversation off the rails. Their minds definitely worked in different ways, but maybe that wasn’t so bad a thing. She was beginning to see that difference, rather than being destructive, could actually provide balance.
His hand dropped from hers and settled on her hip. Did he know he was pulling her closer?
“You serious?”
It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. Bringing her hand down to his chest, she asked, “Do you have something better to do right now?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then please?” She stroked his arm through his shirt. The cotton was warm from his skin, a little rough to her touch. It reminded her of the soft drag of his calloused finger over her breasts. Awareness shivered through her. “I want to understand you.”
* * *
HOW WAS A man to deny a woman who requested that? Luke blew out a breath and drew Josie closer still. She felt soft in his arms, but not as soft as she had last night.
“Settle in then.”
She made a sound that could have been a chuckle. “I can’t get any closer.”
Yes, she could, emotionally at least, but it was up to him to take her trust from physical to mental and that was going to take more than sexual prowess. That was going to take real intimacy. Not to mention honesty. His conscience twinged. At some point, he was going to have to tell Josie that he was her beloved Dane Savage—and then be in the position of competing not only with Zach but also competing with his own damn self—but that could wait. Right now she just wanted to know about his family. That he could share, so he told her of his and Ace’s friendship, of his parents and the excitement they brought to his every day with their spirit of adventure. Of how, when the massacre started, they’d hidden him and ordered him to always remember how they loved him, of how his father had told him that they didn’t regret anything. Not leaving the safety of the East for the danger of the West. Of having him and how proud they were of him. And how they hoped he’d carry on that spirit in his life. They’d never let on that they thought he wouldn’t survive. And because of that, he’d never doubted that they would, too.
He told her of how he’d found them in the end and of how, for a long time, he’d felt betrayed that they hadn’t survived. He told her of how he’d clung to the bitterness that they didn’t regret their life choices, which had ended up making him an orphan.
When she fussed, he hushed her and explained how as he got older he understood they’d died trying to create a future for him, but he knew in his heart, given a chance to do it again, they would have made the same choices. He’d been their world, but they were adventurers and lived their life as such. And now, so did he.
“So no, my darlin’, love has always been a wild ride for me, but when I find it, I value it and protect it. I don’t hide from it.”
“And you enjoy the ride,” she said, worrying a spot on her dress, avoiding his gaze.
That could have been a question or a statement. Watching her carefully, he answered, “I enjoy most things in life.”
A low murmur of voices came from the next room. Cold fear settled in his gut. Josie leaped to her feet.
The door didn’t open. Josie sighed and wrung her hands before spinning back.
She threw her hands wide. “How long does this take?”
He stood, too. “I don’t know.”
She licked her lips. He knew how she felt. Waiting was hell.
She glanced at the door then at him and hugged herself the way he wanted to hug her. “Have you ever thought about being a father?”
A lot more in the last twelve hours. He glanced at her flat stomach. He hadn’t held back when they were together. Even now, Josie could be carrying his child. The smile started deep inside. He definitely wanted their child to have her eyes. “I’ve always wanted a family.”
“Really?”
She didn’t need to sound so shocked.
“Just because I’ve never found someone with whom to build a family doesn’t mean I never had the hankering.”
“I guess I just never thought of men wanting things like that.”
“From what I can tell, you’ve never thought of men as much of anything other than something that needed to be avoided.”
Her chin came up. The woman was bracing for a fight. “You make me sound so cold.”
“That’s how plans are, cold and calculating. A hedge of a bet.”
“And words are walls,” she countered immediately.
He nodded, watching the emotions flick across her face: fear, determination, anger. “For you they’re more like weapons.”
“And for you, they’re not?”
“Sometimes.”
“I’m talking now because I’m trying to understand you.”
She thought this defensive sparring was going to lead to understanding? “We said everything we needed to say last night, my darlin’.” If one discounted the words and focused on the emotion. “You just need to think back and listen.”
Color flooded Josie’s cheeks. She leaned in and hissed sotto voce, “We had sex.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you did, but I was talking your ear off.”
“Not that I remember.”
It amazed him that she couldn’t see the reality of what they had. “We’re going to have to work on your listening, then.”
She bristled. He cut off her retort with a wave of his hand. “At some point, Josie, you’re going to have to come to a decision about what you want to do, for good, for bad or whatever. You’re going to have to decide to stick with your plan or take a chance and go off course.”
“And if I don’t?”
From the way her hands balled into fists, she wasn’t feeling the same contentment he was in the wake of last night. He was going to have to work on that.
“You’re not right about everything,” she accused.
“Maybe, but I’m right about this.”
Whatever she was about to fire back died when the bedroom door handle rattled. Josie blindly reached out for him. Luke caught her hand, and pulled her close. At least her instincts were sound.
“I’ve got you.”
Her fingers squeezed his.
The door opened. Bettina and the Doc came into the room. Bettina was all smiles. Doc was drying his hands on a towel.
“We have a boy and a girl!” Bettina crowed delightedly.
“And Bella?” Luke asked.
Doc answered. “Surprisingly, the surgery was relatively straightforward. There are a couple of arteries you’ve got to worry about—”
Who cared about the surgical particulars? “Bella, Doc. How is Bella?”
Doc caught himself. “Oh. Sorry. Bella’s a strong woman. She did well. Very well. As long as there aren’t complications, she’ll be fine. She just needs to stay quiet until she heals.”
“She won’t have complications,” Bettina declared with the ferocity of a mother who’d watched her daughter come out of hell. Luke hadn’t known what to think of Bettina when he’d first met her, but the prim woman who’d annoyed him had turned out to be a straight shooter with the determination of a badger. A man had to respect that.
Doc nodded. “From your mouth to God’s ears, but right now mother and babies are doing fine, though I think the new father could use a drink.”
“We all need a drink,” Bettina said. “And for this occasion, only the best will do.”
Going over to the cabinet, she pulled out five bottles of Sam’s best whiskey. “Call the men and tell them to bring a glass. We shall drink to the newest members of Rancho Montoya.”
“And Hell’s Eight.”
Bettina nodded her head regally. “And Hell’s Eight.”
Luke shook his head. Damn, Hell’s Eight was changing.