Wild Dawn

by Cait London

  He had what he wanted, MacGregor decided, his lips meeting hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. A woman who hugged and petted Jack, teaching him how to say his prayers and cuddling him when he hurt.

  Her hand lay on his cheek, caressing him gently, and Regina whispered, “Don’t worry so, MacGregor. Your baby will arrive bold and daring like her sire. I shall be fine....”

  In the evenings after supper MacGregor and Tiny worked in the tack shed, completing a huge loom of black walnut and wild cherry. Mose’s cot served as a table to spread MacGregor’s sketches while they worked; the sidesaddle lay beneath a tarp in a corner. The men considered the loom’s complicated design as a challenge, their gift to Regina.

  Mose pampered her by making a frothy chocolate drink every night from cacao bean flour mixed with corn flour. While Regina sipped from a dainty china cup, Mose drank deeply from his favorite chocolatero, a rounded copper mug.

  In the next week Regina suddenly began cleaning and mending. MacGregor awoke to her sweeping the floor at midnight and embroidering by lamplight. Jack listened intently to explanations about the new baby, and Regina made him a velvet bear for his crib.

  “My baby? Mama?” Jack would ask, placing his chubby hand over her rounded stomach.

  “Yes, my darling. Mama loves Jack.... Jack loves Mama... Mama loves baby... Jack loves baby... baby loves Jack,” she sang as she clapped Jack’s hands with hers and kissed him until he laughed. “Jack loves Da.... Mama loves Da....”

  The first time MacGregor heard her sing the childish song as she played with Jack, he dropped the water dipper. Regina glanced up at him; the look held and warmed. “Goodness, MacGregor, you look stunned. What is it?”

  He cleared his throat and blinked. “Violet. You just said you loved me.”

  “So I did,” she said, shooting him a wide, happy smile. “My goodness. Don’t look so shaken.”

  Two mornings later Tiny carried Regina back from the woods, where they had been gathering herbs and roots. Mose ran from the garden, carrying Jack.

  MacGregor, seated on Kansas, left the mules standing in harness as they pulled timber for a shed. He raced the Appaloosa to Tiny’s side and swung down.

  “Her water broke,” Tiny said as he handed Regina carefully to MacGregor. “Baby is coming fast.”

  “Mose, get Jack’s things and take him to Pierre’s,” MacGregor began. “Ask Lilly to come.”

  Regina’s hand caressed his cheek as he strode to the cabin. “Just you, my fine husband. I want only you to be with me,” she asked quietly, watching him before her eyes dimmed with pain.

  MacGregor tensed and quickened his stride, holding her gently as her body tightened against the pain. She breathed heavily.

  “Tiny said you were better than a midwife in the war. That you helped with five babies, MacGregor. Something gentle and safe in the hands, he said. I want you. We’ve worked together before....” she whispered as he placed her gently on the bed and placed his hand over the baby.

  “If anything happens—” he began grimly, probing the tiny life in her womb.

  “It won’t.” She glanced at Mose, who was leaving the cabin with Jack and his bag. “Oh, Jack... come kiss Mama,” she called, placing her hand over MacGregor’s.

  Regina looked at MacGregor’s taut face and kissed Jack, smoothing his rumpled hair. “You’re going to visit Lilly, Jack,” she said softly. “When you come back, your baby will be waiting for you. Go along with Mose now....”

  Her lips firmed, fighting pain until Jack left. In the next instant her body tightened beneath MacGregor’s palm. “Goodness!”

  “Violet, your pains aren’t two minutes apart. How long have you been having them?” MacGregor demanded, holding her hand.

  “Since before dawn. I’d heard that it takes a long time....”

  She frowned when MacGregor cursed and stood, his fists at his sides. “It’s my first child, for goodness’ sakes. I’ll know next time. And the next,” she added tartly and began to push herself off the bed.

  “That baby is coming damn fast,” Tiny repeated at MacGregor’s side. “She’ll drop it on the floor if she gets up.”

  “Damn,” MacGregor said quietly, kneeling by the bed. “Tiny, get water and cloths, then wait outside.”

  He eased her down, then smoothed her hair away from her face. Her cheek nestled in his palm, and her gaze met his. “Violet, we need to change your clothes....”

  She clung to his hand as the next pain came. When it eased slightly, she opened her eyes and licked the fresh cut her teeth had made on her lip. “I love you, MacGregor....”

  The next pain washed over her, and he talked softly, easing her with his hands. She shuddered momentarily and then dozed.

  He’d wanted love all his life, craved it as a child, crying long into the night. As a man he’d lost the dream, and suddenly a purple-eyed woman sauntered into his life. He claimed her, not expecting a measure of the happiness she’d brought to him.

  The baby could take her life....

  His hands trembled as he adjusted the sheet over her knees to examine her.

  “Touch me with your marvelous hands, husband....” she whispered, inhaling sharply as another pain went ricocheting through her and the baby’s head appeared topped by a cap of black hair.

  MacGregor smoothed her taut stomach, pushing slightly and talking quietly to Regina. When he instructed her to push again, she groaned. “I will not obey your lordly commands, husband, until you tell me you love me. Damn you, Two Hearts MacGregor, do it now!”

  “Violet! Push!”

  She cried out in pain. “I refuse. Do it!”

  “I love you, Violet. Always have,” he rasped just as she pushed and Mary Rose MacGregor arrived in his waiting hands.

  ...

  Tiny and the morocco leather saddle disappeared early that afternoon.

  ~**~

  Chapter Twenty

  “The power of kings,” the Marquess of Fordington said as he ripped open the heavy pommel of the morocco leather saddle.

  Tall Tom lifted the saddle, spilling the jewels onto the hard, earthen floor. Mortimer-Hawkes eagerly pawed through the stones. Jeweled facets caught the afternoon light coming from the old Spanish mine’s entrance.

  “The Mariah isn’t here!” Delving his hand deep into the opened pommel, he yelled at Tall Tom, “Cut open every part of that bloody saddle.”

  Tom’s knife slashed at the beautifully tooled leather, exposing the padding. “Nothing.”

  Mortimer-Hawkes smiled grimly, then kicked the saddle aside with his polished boot. He handed Tom a large velvet pouch. “Put them in here.... I should have known. Regina is truly my match. She’s kept the Mariah separately.”

  Tom studied a gleaming emerald and lifted a blue diamond, turning them in the bare light. “There’s enough jewels here to live like a king. Let’s take them and leave.”

  The Englishman turned on the mountain man. “You’re afraid of MacGregor’s gun hand,” he accused, sneering.

  Tall Tom straightened to his full imposing height and stared down at the slighter, older man. “Say that again and I’ll—”

  “What did you do with the black man’s body?”

  “Left it in the woods. Had him carry the saddle to my horse, then did him in nice and quiet. He was the only one outside the cabin. Mose left with MacGregor’s brat, headed for Pierre’s.”

  The marquess’s dark blue eyes glowed in the shadowy cave. “That could mean Regina is in childbirth.”

  He methodically slapped his riding quirt against an ancient supporting beam of the tunnel. He smiled slowly. “Imagine the stir Regina’s half-breed brat will create in England.”

  Turning to Tom, he reached for the bag of jewels and tucked them into his pocket, buttoning the flap safely. “Regina needs time to recover from childbirth. MacGregor can tend her and the child for a time, my gift to him before he dies.... Take care of Tiny’s body. I don’t want it found.”

  “You’re afraid of the
woman and MacGregor, Mortimer-Hawkes. Why not move in now while they’re busy with the birthing and grab the woman? I can kill MacGregor—”

  Mortimer-Hawkes stared at him coldly. “He’s too powerful now. Can’t you feel it? He’s got the Mariah woman and the stone. My sweet Regina needs to recover—I don’t want anything to harm her now. Just after birth, anything could happen to her or to the child.”

  He touched a patch of blood on the saddle with his quirt. “Too bad about the black man. He found Covington for me. He disappeared shortly after and turned up at MacGregor’s.”

  Tall Tom laughed, crouching to slice off pieces of intricately tooled leather. “Tiny served with MacGregor in the war. Before he cashed in, he said he discovered who Covington was hunting and decided to throw in with MacGregor. The metis promised his woman he wouldn’t come for you, and Tiny stayed to protect him. He didn’t make it.”

  “I see. Take care of the body tonight. I want MacGregor to think he’s alive.”

  “I thought of that. Had him write a note before he passed on. Says, ‘I need you. Spanish cave. T.’ ‘Course ‘T’ means Tom, and I mean to do MacGregor in.”

  Tom laughed again, joined by the marquess. “You show promise, my good man. Make certain that you stay out of sight for the next month.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ll stay in comfort at my lodge, hunting and enjoying the wilds, waiting for spring, when I may leave. With winter settling in soon, I can’t be expected to leave.”

  Mortimer-Hawkes sauntered to the mouth of the mine and thoughtfully prodded a dented, antique Spanish breastplate with his quirt. “You’ve found a wonderful lair, Tall Tom. Pack it with foodstuffs and firewood. MacGregor may be our guest in a month or so.”

  He pivoted to Tall Tom. “I have to see his power over Regina.... Test its strength, so that mine can be even greater. Can a woman make it up the trail leading here if it snows?”

  Tall Tom touched his eye patch with the stub of his little finger. “That woman can run on snowshoes like a man. She’ll make it.”

  “She’s small... and after childbirth—”

  “MacGregor’s woman would crawl to him over a bed of live coals. She’s not an ordinary female.”

  The marquess slashed the quirt across Tall Tom’s chest. “Of course she’s not ordinary. She’s the Mariah woman. Don’t call Regina ‘MacGregor’s woman’—and she will crawl to me!”

  ~**~

  The morning after her birth, Mary Rose MacGregor suckled at her mother’s breast. Regina nestled back in the bed’s pillows, easing aside her lace gown for Jack’s special viewing. Jack perched on MacGregor’s knee, holding his velvet bear. “Baby?”

  “Yes, darling. Your baby sister, Mary.” Regina kissed the infant’s glossy black head and looked at MacGregor’s dark, emotion-filled expression. “You’re a lovely man, Mr. Two Hearts MacGregor. I’m so proud of you,” she whispered huskily, slipping her hand into his.

  “Baby?” Jack persisted, scrambling down to peer at the baby’s rosy, fat cheeks and black curls. Then he climbed up into bed and snuggled on Regina’s free side.

  She kissed his forehead. “Mama loves Jack... Mama loves Mary... Mama loves Da....” she sang, looking at MacGregor’s tears.

  His hand tightened on hers, the rough calluses familiar against her palm. “Thank you, Violet,” he whispered in a husky, unsteady tone.

  “Thank you, m’lord,” she returned, tugging his hand until he bent for her long kiss. Against his lips she whispered, “I love you fiercely, Two Hearts MacGregor. I shall expect you to sire another baby soon.”

  He brought her palm to his mouth. “I never believed... hoped for all this, Violet,” he whispered.

  “Neither did I,” she admitted, trailing a fingertip across his damp eyelashes. “I hoped to find peace in this new land, but I found more. I found love.”

  “Love,” he repeated, tasting the word slowly, fearing that his happiness was a dream.

  “Love, my handsome woodsman.... My husband....”

  Jack squirmed at her side and slipped to the floor, running for the door to open it.

  MacGregor touched the baby’s fat cheek softly. “She’s so perfect, so tiny.... I was afraid....”

  “She’s beautiful. Every bit your daughter,” Regina said softly. “She was in a rage when my milk didn’t start immediately, wanting things her way.”

  MacGregor’s finger slid from the baby’s downy cheek to Regina’s milk-swollen breast. “You fill my heart,” he said simply, watching her blush rise. “You’re even more beautiful after a baby.”

  “Posh. Here I am in my dishabille after having a child, and you’re—”

  “Loving you,” he said quietly, his eyes glowing.

  Mose, Jack, Pierre, and Lilly filled the cabin, exclaiming over Mary Rose. But the long look MacGregor and Regina shared held and warmed. “I love you,” she mouthed silently.

  Then the baby yawned and stretched and nestled to her side to sleep.

  Later, Pierre held the baby and Jack while Lilly brushed Regina’s hair. The big Frenchman cooed and made noises, and Mose grumbled.

  “Here, you old bear,” Pierre said finally. “You hold the bebe. I will cook. That Two Hearts MacGregor, he looks like he is tuckered.”

  Mose’s eyes widened fearfully, and he grabbed Jack for protection. “Can’t trust nursing babies. No telling what comes out of their drawers. She’s mighty pretty, though. Mary was my mam’s name.”

  MacGregor stood and yawned. “Reckon we’ve got something to bring in the house, don’t we, Mose?”

  The three big men moved the huge loom into the cabin in pieces. They placed it in a corner of the front room, where Regina could see them assemble it.

  “Oh, my!” Regina exclaimed repeatedly, craning for a better view through the bedroom doorway. “How marvelous.”

  “Divine,” MacGregor said, then chuckled. “Lovely.”

  “Oh, my,” Regina whispered, awed by the huge loom. “It is so beautiful. I can’t wait.”

  Mose beamed by the loom. “Lots to do to prepare a loom for weaving. Helped my mam do this plenty of times. Takes a knowing hand.”

  When Regina threw back the covers and began to sit up, MacGregor was at her side, scowling. “Get back in bed, woman.”

  She glared up at him. “My lover or not, Two Hearts MacGregor, you’re not keeping me from my loom.”

  For a moment he stared at her, locked in his thoughts. Then he smiled slowly, arrogantly. “Lover is it?”

  She wrapped the paisley shawl around her gown. “You’re my husband, lover, father of my child... children,” she corrected. “Jack’s mine now, too....”

  Then stretching out a hand, she smiled up at him as she sat carefully. “You’re a beguiling, handsome man, Mr. Two Hearts MacGregor.”

  In an instant he was on his knees, his arms holding her tightly against him. His damp lashes pressed against her throat, and she held him as he shuddered. “If anything happened to you....”

  She smoothed his rumpled hair and held him close. “You were wonderful. I had nothing to fear.”

  For a long moment she rocked him in her arms and soothed away his tears with gentle kisses. “There now, husband. Our guests and my loom are waiting,” she murmured, tugging gently on his earring.

  “It’s been a long night,” he grumbled gently as MacGregor picked her up in his arms.

  With a loving smile Regina nestled against him, smoothing the muscles of his taut neck with her hand. “I feel just wonderful. You’ll recover with a good night’s sleep in our bed.”

  She rubbed her nose against his and kissed him. “Everyone’s here. Where’s Tiny?”

  MacGregor eased her through the doorway, his expression still. Regina frowned, stroking his tense shoulder. “You’re hiding something. Where’s Tiny?”

  “He’s gone. So is your saddle,” he answered tightly as the others surrounded them.

  Regina’s fingers tightened on his shoulder. “You must find him. T
he marquess—”

  MacGregor met Mose’s eyes, then spoke grimly, “Men who came through the war act funny sometimes.... Mose couldn’t find sign of Tiny anywhere, or of a fight. When he left, he took the saddle. It was hidden so that only one of us knew where it was—”

  “Oh, MacGregor, surely not.”

  “Tiny can wait, but right now, we’re celebrating Mary Rose’s birthday.”

  “But—”

  “Hush, woman. I had enough of your orders while we were birthing my baby.”

  Pierre slapped MacGregor on the back and grinned widely. “Lilly has my bebe soon. We make another loom, mais non?”

  ~**~

  Mary Rose and Jack and joy filled the next weeks, and then the first snowfall came in early November.

  Madam Joy’s Last Dollar was quiet, the windows covered with boards. Lilly and Regina rescued the girls the madam had left to forage for themselves.

  Pierre, in a stroke of brilliant gallantry, opened a marriage market. The ten girls stayed at his home while he interviewed the prospective grooms. Two girls were gone the first week and three the next week, each with the option to return safely if they were not treated according to Pierre’s high and firm standards.

  Though unspoken, Tiny’s disappearance troubled everyone. His gear lay waiting in his shed, occupied by Mose.

  A cold mist preceding snow clung to the mountains like an icy god waiting to descend. Mose hunched down in his heavy coat, walking to MacGregor, who was carrying wood into the cabin.

  “Hey, there, sweet darling,” he teased the younger man, reminding him of Regina’s endearments. “Just came from town. Someone tucked a note marked ‘for MacGregor’ under Beulah’s door.”

  He delved into his heavy coat and pulled out an envelope.

  “Let’s go inside,” MacGregor offered, scanning the sheep in the meadow. “Good thing we’ve finished the shed for the new lambs. They won’t have such a time as that first crop. Jack’s down for his nap and Mary Rose, too.”

  Laddie jumped up on Mose’s leg, and Venus licked his hand. MacGregor signaled Mose to be quiet and unloaded the wood. He poured coffee, heating on the new iron stove, into mugs and sat them on the table.