Sahara Splendor

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Damn him for parading her past Miss Lillian and her girls! She smelled like a distillery and sloshed like a boot full of water—and even though she felt the blush burning her cheeks as Dan draped the black duster over her, he appeared to be supremely under control.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said as he guided her quickly toward the Library’s door. “Sorry to rush out this way, but duty calls.”

  She heard a knowing twitter behind them as they stepped onto the sidewalk, yet she couldn’t be angry. Madigan was every bit as hot as she was—walking funny, without the benefit of a duster to disguise his arousal—and she had to force her eyes to stay on the street in front of them. “Well—it’ll be nice to have you all to myself for a while. And once I see that my ladies are properly matched up, we can take our time traveling back to the ranch.”

  “Nope. Miss Spade kicked me out when she learned I was so nervy as to be her half-brother.”

  Thank God she looked amused rather than disappointed. Dan took her shoulder and urged her along the street before she could demand details, his desperation rising with every step. All he wanted was to get this spitfire behind closed doors and taste her warm, whiskeyed flesh as he made love to her all night.

  “So that means home can be anywhere we want,” she piped up.

  He loved the way the challenge of a new project lit up her eyes, so he let her chatter happily. Any other woman would’ve clobbered him with that whiskey bottle after he doused her—and Lord knew, she’d put up with a few other foibles and mistakes, and forgiven them all. He opened the door to the hotel, eagerly anticipating the sweetness of this long-awaited reunion.

  “—and we could build a magnificent house here in Portland,” she was saying as they hurried past the registration desk.

  Madigan winked at the clerk and hoped nobody noticed the trail of amber droplets on the floor. Lord, she was so ready and wet, the thought of stripping her made him puff like a locomotive as they ascended the stairs.

  “—and you know, since I’ve been here in the forests, I couldn’t help but think that with all this timber to ship to market—”

  They topped the staircase, and as they approached his room he felt ready to explode with a head of steam.

  “—we really ought to invest in—”

  “Railroads,” he chugged.

  “Railroads!” Sahara exclaimed. She turned in the doorway to bless him with a bright-eyed smile that made him laugh in spite of his discomfort. “We make a fine team, don’t we, Madigan? Always thinking alike.”

  Dan pulled her close for a heated kiss, ignoring the people that were passing behind them in the hall. “Then you know exactly what I’m thinking right now, don’t you?” he quizzed as he nuzzled her ear. “And I get the feeling all this chatter is a stall tactic.”

  “Me? Stall?” Sahara teased as he unlocked his door. But once she was inside she wasted no time shedding the oversized duster and tossing her hat onto the wash-stand. She gazed at Madigan, her temperature rising as he tugged his shirttail from his trousers. Whiskey was running in rivulets down her legs, and Dan couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

  “Why would any woman dressed in a soaking-wet leather corset want to stall?” she queried as she untied the black laces between her breasts. “I’d much rather stand here and gloat over the fact that we’ll have switched from Morgans to iron horses before Holladay even thinks of it. It’s not how much money you have, Madigan. It’s how you use it that counts.”

  Her breasts were pushing up over the top of her corset now, and her legs were parted, firm and sleek in her black lace stockings and boots; and Madigan didn’t care if he ever saw another dollar in his life. He had all he could ever want right here in this room, and she was watching him undress with fiery emerald eyes that made him simmer all over.

  And now that he knew Sahara was his again, it seemed a shame to be in such a rush…except that she was shaking out her tousled curls, running her fingertips under the legbands of that tight black corset, where his own had been, teasing him beyond reason. He nearly bolted over to peel her clothing away, but steered himself to the chest of drawers instead.

  “I know where there’s an emerald ring and necklace that would look exquisite with that outfit. Or without it,” he quipped as he fumbled for the boxes.

  Sahara smiled at the memory of the beautiful jewelry she’d flung in his face, vowing never again to let her childish pride come between them. Dan Madigan understood her, as no other man could, and all the money she could ever hope to amass would never replace the precious gift of his love.

  “Now who’s stalling?” she asked with a throaty laugh. She swayed closer to him, reveling in the way he worshiped her with his eyes as he fastened the clasp about her neck and then slipped the green and white sparkles onto her finger.

  “I am,” Dan said. After running his tongue along the edge of her neckline, making her sigh with desire, he led her into a soulful, breathtaking kiss that made her melt against his naked chest. “I didn’t think you’d mind, though, since this time we’re going to last forever.”

  Epilogue

  An expectant hush fell over the parlor, and the men milling around outside paused to look toward the boardinghouse. There it was again—a halting little cough, this time followed by a lusty wail that made everyone grin and whisper to each other.

  “You suppose it’s a boy? She was carrying mighty low.”

  “Listen to that! Has to be a girl, the way it’s squallin’!”

  Sahara grabbed Madigan’s hands, grinning with relief. “Thank God!” she whispered. “As long as Elizabeth’s been holed up in there, I was worried there were complications. The trip was hard on her, and she’s been achy all week and—well, I was just worried.”

  Dan slipped his arms around his wife, sharing her concerns. For a moment the women and men murmuring around them disappeared, and he could imagine it was his child coming into the world. The thought sent a surge of love and fierce yearning through him—a surprising jolt, since he’d never realized how deep his desire to start a family ran.

  He stroked Sahara’s soft strawberry curls, tipping her head back slightly. “How about you, honey?” he breathed. “Have you thought about a baby? I—I suddenly find myself wanting to—”

  “You always want to,” she teased, glancing nervously around the crowded parlor.

  “That’s not what I meant, Sahara.”

  The sudden seriousness in Dan’s golden brown eyes made her heart lurch. Weeks they’d been apart, and he was so intent on making up for lost time that it frightened her. “Seems to me we’re giving Mother Nature every chance, Mr. Madigan. I can count the hours of sleep I get each night on one hand.”

  He heard the edge of apprehension in her voice and smiled patiently. “I want it to be your choice, sweetheart. Whenever you feel ready,” he whispered, and then he glanced toward the hall where the door to her quarters was opening. “We’ll talk about it later, all right? Looks like Roxanne’s going to show off our newest arrival.”

  Sahara watched her friend carrying the flannel-wrapped bundle with a touch of awe and envy: just thinking about holding a baby made her so jittery she’d surely drop it! She’d never been around a newborn, and the idea of begetting a helpless, dependent being who’d change her freewheeling ways and dictate her schedule every day for the next several years seemed more than a little intimidating.

  Seeing the baby’s puckery red face and clenched fists from across the room didn’t inspire any sudden desire for motherhood, either. My Lord, are they all that ugly? she wondered. Yet everyone else in the room was leaning forward eagerly to coo and stroke the downy hair on its head as Roxanne walked slowly around the room.

  Maybe there’s something wrong with me…maybe I’m not a whole woman, Sahara fretted when she was face-to-face with Elizabeth’s baby. Dan reached out to gently push the blanket aside for a better look, grinning shyly.

  “Girl or boy?” he asked.

  “A perfect little girl,�
� Roxanne replied happily. “Elizabeth’s tired and she lost a lot of blood, but I think she’ll be fine. Plenty of help around here, so she can take it easy while she regains her strength.”

  Sahara then realized that Andy Glascock had joined their small circle, and the expression on his swarthy, bearded face made her hold her breath.

  “Looks like Elizabeth did a fine job on this one,” he murmured, and without a moment’s hesitation he was easing the baby from Roxanne’s arms. What a sight it was to see this burly bull of the woods slip a huge palm beneath her head and then cradle the little girl against his chest to study her! The wonder in his eyes left no doubt that he was already in love with her, ready to be wrapped around her tiny, curling fingers. “What’s her name?” he whispered.

  Roxanne shrugged, looking weary from her hours assisting with the birth. “Elizabeth hasn’t said yet. I’m sure she’s wishing Alonzo were here to help her choose.”

  Everyone in the room nodded sympathetically, following this quiet conversation with rapt faces—until an urgent voice called from the hallway. “Mrs. Pruitt—Roxanne!” the doctor cried, “there’s another baby! Elizabeth’s half out of her head, and—I need your help, quickly!”

  Roxanne hurried toward the room, followed by hushed, concerned whispers, and before another moment passed Andy was handing the baby to Sahara and striding down the hall after her.

  “Oh, my,” Sahara breathed, staring at the bundle in her arms. The little girl, who’d been resting so peacefully against the lumberjack’s chest, was now wriggling and looking ready to erupt into a crying fit, as though she sensed how awkward and uncomfortable Sahara felt. “Dan, I—I think you’d better get me over to a chair, before I drop her.”

  Andy closed the door behind him and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Elizabeth’s ebony hair clung wetly to her head, accentuating her bluish pallor, and it scared the hell out of him to see her clutching the sheets as though she had a very tenuous hold on life itself.

  The doctor scowled. “Sir, I can’t allow you to be in here!”

  “And I can’t allow this woman to let go. That little girl out there needs her as much as I do.” Rather than get in the frantic physician’s way, Glascock crossed the room and eased onto the mattress so that he could hold Elizabeth’s head and shoulders. She felt as wobbly and weak as her newborn daughter, and it took him a moment to find his voice again. “I’m here for you, honey. Don’t you dare give up, you hear me?”

  She moaned softly, sounding oddly distant.

  Andy glanced at what the doctor was doing to her—saw the worry etched into Roxanne’s pale face—and decided he’d better concentrate on things at this end. The window was open, but despite the brisk autumn air his woman—funny, how he’d thought of Elizabeth Kent that way since the moment he saw her—was writhing restlessly in her sweat-soaked nightgown. He smiled gratefully at Roxanne when she handed him a cool, wet washcloth.

  “Beth…Beth, honey, you have a beautiful little girl,” he murmured as he wiped her brow. “And God love you, you’ve come through hell these past months, so don’t quit now! Two babies need you…and so do I. Talk to me, honey. I’m here for you.”

  Slowly her eyes opened, and as she focused she reached weakly for his hand. “Alonzo?” she whispered. “Am I finally to be with you again?”

  Andy’s heart stopped. She was talking to her dead husband, wanting to be with him—and he knew instinctively that only a lie would save her. “I’m here for you,” he repeated softly, “but what about our babies? If you leave them now, they’ll be without their mother or their father. They’re the best thing we ever made together, Elizabeth, and I’d hate to see them left behind, lost and alone.”

  He felt the doctor massaging her vigorously, felt Roxanne staring at him as she assisted, but he didn’t care what they thought. He kept his gaze riveted on Elizabeth, willing her to believe in his deception.

  She sighed softly. “All right…if you want me to go back…”

  “Push, Mrs. Kent!” the doctor urged. “Put all your strength into it now!”

  The pale woman in Andy’s arms took a deep breath, gathering herself, and he hugged her tightly to help her with her effort. Elizabeth’s gaze never left his as she let out a low, determined moan and constricted as the doctor was instructing her to. Her mouth slackened…Andy held his breath, praying as he’d never done in his life…

  And then a tiny, strident voice filled the room with a squall that sent tears running down his cheeks. He crushed Elizabeth close and rejoiced in the feel of her grip tightening on his hand, and in the mixture of soft sobs and laughter so close to his ear.

  “Another little girl, and she’s just fine!” he heard Roxanne exclaim.

  The words were muffled somewhat by the victorious throbbing of his heart. Indeed, everything everyone said to him over the next several hours sounded subdued compared to the pulsing of the life forces within him. His men expressed their congratulations and admiration, and spent the rest of that Sunday with the ladies, discussing the miracle that had occurred. Roxanne and Charlie announced their betrothal at dinner. Sahara and Dan seemed to be lost in thought, apparently contemplating a serious matter that had cropped up between them.

  Andy was pleased by all of this: the potentially dangerous situation he’d drawn Sahara into could’ve backfired, but instead it had propelled them both into the arms of the people they were destined to love. Glascock wasn’t accustomed to all this soul searching, and if his men would’ve challenged or teased him about his instant attraction to Elizabeth Kent, he would’ve rebuked them out of sheer embarrassment.

  But later that evening none of his awkward, confused emotions—or anyone else’s opinions of them—really mattered. When he was told Elizabeth wished to see him, he entered the room quietly, intent upon figuring out which world her mind now occupied…and if she recalled what he’d done earlier and resented it.

  Leaning against the door, Andy studied the lamplit vision before him. The room had been straightened, all evidence of the birthing replaced by the homey cheerfulness Sahara had decorated it with. Elizabeth’s hair hung past her shoulders, curling in soft, raven loveliness around a face that radiated a maternal warmth that stirred his soul. She was propped up against pillows, wearing a simple flannel nightgown that suited her—and appealed to Andy more than any low-cut, lacy confection at Miss Lillian’s ever could again.

  And when Elizabeth smiled at him, Glascock knew he was desperately in love with her. “Hello, Beth,” he murmured, still half-afraid to move closer. “May…may I call you that?”

  She smiled shyly, nodding. “The girls and I…well, we wanted to thank you. Wanted to see you again, now that we’re cleaned up for company.”

  His heart thumped against his rib cage like a puppy dog’s tail. “It’s good to see you looking so well.”

  Her expression grew more serious, and she shifted the baby in her arms until it rested against her neck. “I owe you so much—”

  “Only did what any man would’ve, to—”

  “We both know better, Andy. You kept me alive so I could raise my girls,” she replied in a low, insistent tone. “Even if you did trick me into it.”

  Beth looked solemn and lovely, like a madonna in a sacred painting, yet he was suddenly chuckling. She was herself again! She realized what he’d done and she was still talking to him! Andy crossed the small room and eased onto the edge of the bed, facing her, moving carefully so that he wouldn’t disturb the daughter in her arms or the one that slept peacefully in the cradle one of his men had crafted.

  “Welcome back, pretty lady. Thought we’d lost you there for a bit.”

  Her smile was sincere yet playful. “You’re stuck with us now, you know. We’ve talked it over, the girls and I, and we’ve decided no other man will do.”

  There was no question in her voice, no shadow of doubt. This woman, still too weak to leave her bed, was telling him she was his—whether he wanted her or not! Beth and her daughters intended
to take over his life and change his bachelor ways before he was ready—before he had his mills operating, and his steamships transporting his lumber to the burgeoning markets he sensed would open up the West. He would have undreamed-of responsibilities now, raising another man’s children, and he would need a decent house—the bills! The noise, of babies crying in the night—probably when he was trying to make love to a woman who would always compare him to the dearly beloved phantom he could never compete with. It was more than any sane man should be expected to take on—

  And it was exactly what he wanted.

  Andy shifted carefully, noting that Beth’s gaze hadn’t wavered once during his second thoughts, and he admired her for it. She had grit, this lady who’d crossed the plains on the faith of a friendship, and he had a feeling that despite her diminutive stature and soft-spoken ways, she could fell him like a giant fir, with one flick of her finger.

  He cleared his throat. “Perhaps, then, you should introduce me to your girls.”

  Beth’s smile was proud, edged with a victory that tickled him. “My firstborn, in the cradle, is the beginning of a new life for me, so I’ve named her Dawn. Sahara Dawn.”

  “A worthy, wonderful name,” he agreed as he glanced at the sleeping child. “Gives her a lot to live up to.”

  “Yes, it does.” She shifted the blanketed baby in her arms, and then slowly offered the bundle to him. “And this is Andrea Elizabeth. Named for the man who refused to let us go—and who will probably rescue us all many, many times in his strong, loving arms.”

  Stunned, Andy could only gaze at her as he cradled the baby to his shoulder. It felt surprisingly natural to have such a tiny thing nuzzling at his neck while her mother reached out to grasp his other hand. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then say yes. There’s no talking me out of it, Andy—I saw that very word in your eyes when you first carried me to this room from the coach last week.”