For a breathless moment, they did nothing more than gaze at each other as they shared that dream.
Kate smiled up at him, and as her hands mapped his face, loving each strong feature, she was astonished at how easily this happiness had come to her once she’d let go of her pride.
Luke’s mouth settled on hers, his kiss almost reverent, as though he couldn’t yet believe she was in his home and eager to be his wife.
As Kate wrapped her arms around his neck, her glance fell on the calendar. She seemed to recall that Pastor Wilkins had placed a sizeable wager on the fifteenth of December. That sounded good to Kate.
Very good indeed.
Epilogue
The sun shone clear and bright in the late-July afternoon, two years after Rorie Campbell’s car had broken down near Nightingale. Kate was making a fresh pitcher of iced tea when Rorie knocked on the back door.
“Come on in,” Kate called. “The screen door’s unlocked.”
A moment later Rorie entered the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled. “How did your afternoon at the library go?” Kate asked, as she added ice cubes to the tall pitcher.
“Very well, thanks.”
“Katherine’s still sleeping,” Kate told her.
Rorie’s eyes softened as she gazed out at the newly constructed patio where her baby slept under the shade of the huge oak tree.
“It was such a lovely afternoon I kept her outside.” Kate wiped her hands dry. She poured them each a glass of iced tea, and carried a tray of tea and cookies onto the patio.
The nine-month-old infant stirred when Rorie stood over the portable crib and protectively placed her hand on the sleeping baby’s back. When she turned, her eyes fell on Kate’s protruding abdomen. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a blimp.” Kate’s hands rested on her swollen stomach. “The doctor told me it’ll probably be another two weeks.”
“Two weeks!” Rorie said sympathetically.
“I know, and I was hoping Junior would choose this week to arrive. I swear to you, Rorie, when you were pregnant with Katherine you positively glowed. You made everything seem so easy.”
Rorie laughed. “I did?”
“I feel miserable. My legs are swollen, my hands and feet look like they’ve been inflated. There isn’t a single part of my body that’s normal-sized anymore.”
Rorie laughed again. “The last few weeks are always like that. I think the main difference is that Katherine was born in October, when the weather was much cooler.”
With some difficulty Kate crossed her legs. “I only hope our baby will be as good-natured as Katherine. She barely fussed the whole time she was here.”
“Her uncle Skip thinks she’s going to start walking soon.”
“I think he’s right.” Pressing a hand to her ribs, Kate shifted her position. She was finding it difficult to sit comfortably for longer than a few minutes at a time.
“Oh—” Rorie set her iced tea aside “—I almost forgot.” She hurried back to the kitchen and returned with a hardbound children’s book. “I received my first copies of Nightsong’s Adventures in the mail yesterday. Kate, I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilled I was when I held this book in my hands.”
Kate laid the book on her lap and slowly turned the pages. “The illustrations are fantastic. They really fit the story.”
“The reviews have been excellent. One critic said he expected it to become a children’s classic, which I realize is ridiculous, but I couldn’t help feeling excited about it.”
“It isn’t ridiculous, and I’m sure your publisher knows that, otherwise they wouldn’t have been so eager to buy your second book.”
“You know, the second sale was every bit as exciting as the first,” Rorie said with a smile.
“Just think, in a few years our children will be reading your stories and attending school together. They’re bound to be the best of friends.”
Before Kate could respond, the baby woke and they watched, delighted, as she sat up in the portable crib. When she saw her mother sitting next to Kate, she smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. She raised her chubby arms, reaching for Rorie.
Rorie stood and lifted Katherine out of the crib, kissing the little girl’s cheeks. “I’d better get her home. Thanks so much for watching Katherine for me. I promised I’d pinch-hit for the new librarian if she ever needed me, and I didn’t think I could refuse her even though it was at the last minute.”
“It wasn’t any problem, so don’t worry. And tell Mary she should visit her sister more often so I get the opportunity to babysit every once in a while.”
“Call me later and let me know how you’re feeling.”
Kate nodded.
Ten minutes after Rorie and Katherine left, Luke drove up and parked behind the house. Standing on the porch, Kate waved to her husband.
Luke joined her, placing an arm around what once had been a trim waist, and led the way into the kitchen. “You okay?” His gaze was tender.
Kate wasn’t sure how to answer that. She was miserable. Excited. Frightened. Eager. So many emotions were coming at her, she didn’t know which one to mention first.
“Kate?”
“I feel fine.” There was no need to list her complaints, but all of a sudden she felt funny. She didn’t know any other way to describe it. As Rorie had said, there were a dozen different aches and pains the last few weeks of any pregnancy.
Luke kissed her, his mouth soft. “Did you have a busy day with Katherine?”
“She slept almost the entire time, but I think Rorie knew she would.” Leaning forward, Kate kissed her husband’s jaw. “I made some iced tea. Want some?”
“Please.”
When Kate reached inside the cupboard for a glass, a sharp pain split her side. She let out a cry.
“Kate?”
Clutching her swollen abdomen, Kate stared at Luke. “Oh, my goodness. I just felt a pain.”
Luke paled. “You ’re in labor?”
Smiling, wide-eyed, she nodded slowly. “I must be. I didn’t expect them to start off so strong.”
In an instant, Luke was across the kitchen beside her. “Now what?”
“I think I should call the doctor.”
“No.” Luke’s arm flew out as if that would halt the course of nature. “I ’ll call. Stay there. Don’t move.”
“But Luke—”
“For heaven’s sake, Kate, don’t argue with me now. We’re about to have a baby!”
He said this as if it were a recent discovery. As he reached for the phone, she saw that he’d gone deathly pale. When he finished talking to the doctor, he gave her a panicked look, then announced that Doc Adams wanted them to go straight to the hospital. As soon as the words left his mouth, he shot to the bedroom, then returned with her suitcase. He halted abruptly when he saw she’d picked up the phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Dad and Dorothea. I promised I would.”
“Kate, would you let me do the phoning?”
“All right.” She handed him the receiver and started toward the bedroom to collect the rest of her things. If he thought that talking on the phone was too taxing for her, fine. She’d let him do it. The years had taught her that arguing with Luke was fruitless.
“Kate,” he yelled. “Don ’t wander off.”
“Luke, I just want to get my things before we leave.” A pain began to work its way around her back and she paused, flattening her hands across her abdomen. She raised her head and smiled up at her husband. “Oh, Luke, the baby…”
Luke dropped the receiver and rushed to her side. “Now?”
“No.” She laughed and touched his face. “It’ll be hours yet. Oh! I just felt another pain—a bad one.”
He swallowed hard and gripped both her hands in his own. “I ’ve been looking forward to this moment for nine months, but I swear to you, Kate, I’ve never been more frightened in my life.”
“Don’t worry.” Her hands caressed his face and
she kissed him, offering what reassurance she could.
He exhaled noisily, then gave her a brisk little nod. Without warning, he lifted her in his arms, ignoring her protests, and carried her out the door to the truck. Once he’d settled her in the seat, he returned to the house for her bag.
“Luke,” she called after him, “I really would like to talk to Dad and Dorothea.”
“I’ll phone them from the hospital. No more arguing, Kate. I’m in charge here.”
Only another sharp pain—and her regard for Luke’s feelings—kept her from breaking out in laughter.
Ten long hours later, Kate lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed in exhaustion. When she opened them, she discovered her father standing over her. Dorothea was next to him, looking as pleased and proud as Kate’s father. Devin took his daughter’s hand in his own and squeezed it gently. “How do you feel, little mother?”
“Wonderful. Did they let you see him? Oh, Dad, he’s so beautiful!”
Her father nodded. For a moment he seemed unable to speak. “Luke ’s with Matthew now. He looks so big sitting in that rocking chair, holding his son.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke wear an expression quite like that before,” Dorothea murmured. “So tender and loving.”
Devin concurred with a nod of his head. “When Luke came into the waiting room to tell us Matthew Devin had been born, there were tears in his eyes. I’ll tell you, Kate, that man loves you.”
“I know, Dad, and I love him, too.”
Devin patted her hand. “You go ahead and rest, Princess. Dorothea and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
When Kate opened her eyes a second time, Luke was there. She held out her hand to him and smiled dreamily. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for staying with me.”
“Staying with you,” he echoed, his fingers brushing the tousled curls from her face. “Nothing on earth could have kept me away. I would’ve done anything to spare you that pain, Kate. Anything.” His voice was raw with the memory of those last hours.
Her smile was one of comfort. “It only lasted a little while and we have a beautiful son to show for it.”
“All these months when we’ve talked about the baby,” he said, his eyes glazed, “he seemed so unreal to me, and then you were in the delivery room and in so much agony. I felt so helpless. I wanted to help you and there was nothing I could do. Then Matthew was born and, Kate, I looked at him and I swear something happened to my heart. The love I felt for that baby, that tiny person, was so strong, so powerful, I could hardly breathe. I thought I was going to break down right there in front of everyone.”
“Oh, Luke.”
“There’s no way I could ever thank you for all you’ve given me, Kate Rivers.”
“Yes, there is,” she said with a smile. “Just love me.”
“I do,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “And I always will.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0255-3
COUNTRY BRIDES
Copyright © 2007 by MIRA Books.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:
A LITTLE BIT COUNTRY
Copyright © 1990 by Debbie Macomber.
COUNTRY BRIDE
Copyright © 1990 by Debbie Macomber.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Debbie Macomber, Country Brides
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