by Jill Gregory
"So are you going to join?" Maura had wanted to know. "I do hope you will," she'd added, and meant it.
"Maybe I will and maybe I won't." Serena had hunched a taffeta-gowned shoulder. "But if they think I'm going to give up smoking cigars in my parlor with my gentlemen boarders, they've got another think coming!"
As it happened, she had joined the circle and she hadn't given up cigars. But no one censured her for it-the other women even seemed impressed with Serena's outrageousness. She often said and did things they could only imagine doing. At any rate, they followed Maura's lead and accepted her for what she was—a hardworking woman who had made her own way in a challenging world—and a fine seamstress to boot.
In the days right before her time came, Maura had worked feverishly on baby clothes and blankets, and Quinn had not only carved a handsome cradle but had begun building the porch she'd dreamed of the very first time she saw the cabin. There was no end to his energy, even as hers had seemed to wilt a bit each day.
But mostly they'd laughed and talked and planned and made love. An aura of happiness shone through the cabin that had once seemed so plain and barren. Now every nook and cranny seemed to glow with the love of the family living within its sturdy walls.
A sudden pain more intense than any of the others tore through her and Maura gave a stifled shriek. Doc Perkins turned to the women gathered in the room.
"I believe it's nearly time," he announced.
It better be, Maura thought. "I'm not sure how much more of this... I can stand," she gasped aloud.
Alice took her taut, shaking hand and clasped it in her own. "It will all be over soon. And you'll have a beautiful baby to show for it."
A beautiful baby. A beautiful baby. Maura held the thought close as she writhed and gasped and endured.
Soon she would be holding Quinn's baby.
"Well, look at that," she heard Serena say from the window. "That Nell Hicks waltzed in earlier and said she wanted to help. I set her to serving pie and coffee to everyone out there waiting. And where is she? Spooning by the creekbank with Lucky Johnson!"
Even in the midst of her agony, Maura gave out a weak laugh. "Love is more important than coffee, Serena," she gasped.
Edna placed another cool cloth upon her head and grimaced. "Maybe. But it's sure not more important than pie."
"You let me go right this very minute."
Nell found it quite difficult to pull her lips away from Lucky's hot and confusing kisses, but she did so at last, and pushed hard against his chest. "I'm going back inside to see if I can help."
"Seems to me Miz Lassiter has to have that baby all by her lonesome and all those folks are just in the way," he retorted, grinning as he pinioned her wrists and yanked her even closer against him. "You and me—we're being more helpful just staying out of the way."
"But I promised I'd serve coffee and Mrs. Weaver's blueberry pie. So you just stop making cow's eyes at me, Lucky Johnson, and let me go right now!"
"I reckon I'll think about it." Then his mouth closed over hers again, and his hands began roving over her back and downward to cup her bottom.
"Don't think about it... um... um... do it..." Nell insisted, but her tone was soft and breathless, and her hands were wound in his thick, sunlit hair.
"Do what?"
Lucky deepened the kiss and heat lightning seemed to blaze red-hot through both of them. When at last he lifted his head, Nell's green eyes were dazed and unfocused, her cheeks flushed seashell pink.
"Do what, did you say?" Lucky murmured, tilting her head up so that she gazed directly into his warm, gleaming eyes.
"L-let me go..." It was an unconvincing whisper, made all the more unconvincing when her arms locked tightly around his neck. "You really must... let me go..."
"That's what you want?" He began nibbling at the corners of her mouth, grinning as he felt the delicate shudder run through her.
"Ummmm. I reckon I'll... think about it," Nell murmured, and pulled his head down for just one more of those deep, intoxicating, Lucky Johnson specialty kisses.
Lucky was only too glad to oblige. For the past few months, since that bloody night on Skull Rock, he hadn't been able to think about anything else except how much fun it was kissing Nell.
"After we're married, you're not going to ever tell me again what to do," he said, pulling her down with him on the crisp autumn grass and brushing a stray lock of dusky hair from her eyes.
"After we're... what?"
"You heard me. Married."
"Who says I'm going to marry you, Lucky Johnson? I never gave you the slightest reason to believe that I... ummmm..."
Her voice trailed off as he pushed her down into a patch of fading wildflowers and covered her body with his, and they lost themselves to dizzying sensation after sensation.
"Well, come to think of it," Nell whispered eventually, gazing up into his eyes, which were now just as glazed as hers had become, "I reckon I'll think on that too."
Maura twisted and writhed soundlessly in a world of pain, dazzling sunlight, blurred figures, and dim voices. Through it all she clung to an image in her mind of Quinn holding their baby. She held tight to the image through every torturous second and finally with one shuddering, bone-wrenching push it was over—and she heard Doc Perkins's soft triumphant snort—and Edna's voice trumpet merrily through the room.
"It's a girl, Maura Lassiter! And a right fine little beauty she is, too!"
Small cries filled the room as the baby let loose its indignation at being plucked from its warm dark cocoon and thrust into a strange, bright new world. Alice hurried to draw the curtains as the doctor tended to cutting the string.
"Please, let me hold her." Maura reached out her arms, scarcely able to contain her excitement. She couldn't tear her eyes off the tiny child as Alice wrapped the infant in a fluffy yellow blanket.
When the precious bundle was laid against her breast, Maura thought her heart would burst.
"Oh, my darling," she murmured over and over against a fluff of jet-black hair. "My precious, beautiful darling." Then she glanced up, her eyes alight. "Will someone please tell my husband that his daughter would like to meet him?"
At that moment, the door opened a crack and a crimson-cheeked Nell slipped in. "I just wanted to see how... oh! The baby! You had the baby!" the girl squealed.
Edna pursed her lips. "If you want to do something useful, find us some ribbon before that young lady's father comes in here. Land sakes, that baby has more hair than most one-year-olds. Won't Quinn get a kick out of seeing her with ribbons in her hair and her only a minute old?"
"Oh, yes, quickly," Maura exclaimed with delight as she cuddled the baby closer. So tiny. But with such big, wondering eyes—and little curling fingers. "Look over there in the sewing basket, Nell," Maura directed as she tucked the warm little bundle against her, examining tiny fingers and tiny toes with careful eyes. "There should be some pink ribbon in there somewhere..."
"I don't seem to see any," Nell fretted, riffling through scraps of fabric, yarn, knitting needles, thread, and sharp-edged sewing scissors. "Are you sure—"
"Oh, just bring it here," Serena ordered impatiently, loath to leave the bedside for even a moment. Like the other women, she couldn't seem to tear her gaze from the beautiful black-haired baby who was staring at the world through marveling eyes.
Nell set the basket near the foot of the bed and turned it upside down, dumping the contents out. "Here's a scrap of gray ribbon, but surely there must be some pink, or white even... why, what's this?"
She held up a rough, dirty brown pouch, not much bigger than her thumb.
"What is that?" Maura studied the pouch in surprise. "I've never seen that before."
Nell tossed it aside. "Well, it isn't a pink ribbon, that's for sure... ohhh!"
As she'd grabbed at the basket again, the pouch had tumbled off the bed and onto the floor with a thud and then a clattering sound. Both Nell and Maura glanced down as six tiny glittering st
ones tumbled out and rolled across the bedroom floor.
Only they weren't stones, Maura saw, as her eyes widened in shock. They were diamonds.
Nell bent and began gathering them up. "Diamonds," she gasped. "Six of them."
There was silence in the room.
"I put the jewel box in the sewing basket when I was working on my dress for the dance," Maura said slowly as the baby began to nuzzle hungrily at her breast. "The false bottom must have caught on the scissors or the needles or something and somehow the pouch fell out." Suddenly she remembered how she'd danced with Quinn— and tripped over the basket. Perhaps then...
"I never saw the pouch," she murmured. "It must have gotten mixed in with the fabric and the thread—"
"It doesn't matter now," Edna said. "Except you'll be able to make yourself a real pretty bauble, or order some mighty fancy store-bought baby clothes for this little lady, or buy her the biggest, prettiest pony in the world— if you've a mind to."
Maura didn't want diamonds that had belonged to a dead woman. Diamonds that had led to Judd's and Homer's murders—and nearly her own.
She shuddered and peered down at her daughter, feeling peace steal over her again. "Will someone bring Quinn in here please?" she asked softly as Nell dropped the diamonds back into the pouch and set it on the bureau.
Doc Perkins started toward the door, but at that moment it burst open.
"There you are." Maura smiled mistily from the bed. "Just the man we've been waiting to see."
Quinn was pale in the dim light. His silver eyes swung from Maura to the baby at her breast, and for a moment he didn't move or speak.
"You're both... all right?"
"Couldn't be better. Come meet your daughter." Pride and love filled her smile as her husband approached with slow, almost reverent steps.
"Ahem, I think we'll leave the proud parents alone," Doc Perkins said, clearing his throat. The women all swept out behind him and closed the door.
Quinn's legs felt rubbery, but he gripped the edge of the bed as he kissed Maura's sweat-glistened brow, and then gazed down at his daughter's soft, puckered cheek.
Awe filled him. And a joy more potent than a dozen bottles of red-eye whiskey.
"She's beautiful," he said hoarsely. "You're beautiful."
"You must be drunk." Maura's soft laughter was like silk against his wire-taut nerves.
"Drunk? Like hell. I've been working on that porch while you've been lollygagging around here." Grinning, Quinn knelt beside the bed. He stroked one finger along her cheek, then gently touched the baby's cheek.
"The railing's finished now. Whenever you're ready, Mrs. Lassiter—and you too, Miss Lassiter—you can sit out on your porch in a rocker together and look at the stars."
"That sounds wonderful." She smiled into his eyes. "If you're there to enjoy it with us."
"Just try to keep me away."
Touched that he'd remembered her long-ago wish, amazed at how far they'd come, how much had changed, Maura could only gaze with wonder into his eyes. She was holding her baby daughter, watching joy soften and warm the face of the man she loved, surrounded by friends and neighbors in her own cozy, precious home.
It was all she had ever wished for.
"I know what we should name her," Quinn said suddenly, and reached out to touch the rose-shaped cameo at Maura's throat. "Rose. Rose Katharine Lassiter. How does that sound?"
"It sounds perfect," Maura whispered as Quinn leaned in close and kissed her.
In that moment, with his lips warm and sure and strong upon her own, Maura knew she had everything that could ever matter to her in the world.
There would be time later to tell him about the diamonds, time to decide what to do with them, time to get on with the normal business of life. For now, she wanted only to savor this perfect kiss, this perfect man, this perfect moment, so she could hold them in her heart—forever.
Epilogue
The town of Hope thrived during the following years and Sage Creek Ranch prospered right along with it. Eventually nearly a thousand head of cattle bore the Sage Creek brand, dotting the lush grazing land that bordered both sides of the creek.
Maura Lassiter sold the stolen diamonds and donated the proceeds to the town of Hope's community fund, which used the money to help erect a library directly across the street from Serena Walsh's boardinghouse. Serena Walsh and Edna Weaver—co-chairwomen of the building committee—christened the building together on the Fourth of July.
One year later, Lucky Johnson became one of the West's youngest but most dedicated sheriffs, and he married Nell Hicks on a brilliant June morning with the whole town in attendance.
Nearly two-year-old Rose Katharine Lassiter was then-flower girl and toddled giggling down the aisle of the church tossing rose petals all about her.
Maura, who'd just the day before received a letter from Emma Garrettson with the news that she was expecting another child, had watched her husband Quinn's face beaming with pride at their daughter's performance. She waited until that evening to tell him that they, too, would be welcoming another child into their lives by the time the winter snows came to the little cabin on Sage Creek.
But the little cabin wasn't so little anymore. Quinn had added on steadily and now the original structure was only the centerpiece of a long, rambling log house with a big kitchen, a dining room that boasted a red and gold Turkey carpet, two parlors, three bedrooms overlooking the creek—and even a sewing room for Maura.
And, of course, the porch. On soft summer evenings, it was not unusual for the ranch hands to come now and then to stand at the doorway of the bunkhouse and peer through the starlight at the two figures on the porch often found dancing to music only they could hear. Maura and Quinn paid no heed. They were lost in each other, in the life they had built—two strangers who had come together, who had found love, nourished joy, discovered hopes and dreams they could only fulfill together.
And that is what they did. Together day after day, night after night, year after year, they celebrated their home, their love, their land, their children.
And a day never went by that Quinn Lassiter didn't say a prayer of thanks for having learned the truth at last— that love was not a prison, a fence, an ending... it was a wondrous beginning. It brought healing, joy, and a boundless vista of dreams for the future.
Love—and Maura—had set him free.