by Diana Palmer
Lacy lay very still. Her monthly hadn't come. She'd thought it was because of all the upset over Marion's deteriorating health, but no emotional upset had ever made her late before. She wasn't just late, either. She counted mentally and blushed. There had been a very long night about six weeks ago that had left her exhausted and Cole strutting.
Cole's arm under her head was rigid. "But, it.. .can't happen," he said falteringly. "I'm not able to father a child."
Tears were blinding Lacy. Sheer joy shot through her slender body like lightning. "They didn't say you couldn't," she whispered, oblivious to Katy's shock, because she'd never been told the extent of Cole's injuries. "They said it was unlikely" Her voice broke. "Cole.. .I'm pregnant!"
He clasped her close, his tall body shaking. He buried his face in her throat and seconds later she felt the wetness, heard the throb in his voice as he whispered how desperately he loved her.
Katy had discreetly left them alone, but from the barn, Turk spotted Lacy apparently lying in the road with a shattered Cole supporting her, and he ran across the field to get to them.
"My God, what's happened?" he asked urgently, dropping to one knee beside them. "Is she dead?" he added, because Cole's face was wet.
"She's.. .pregnant!" Cole choked.
Turk's face relaxed, and then seemed to glow with wonder. He looked down at Lacy's pale face, her blue eyes almost too big for it, drenched with tears and blinding joy. "Well, my God," he said, chuckling. "Bolting down the slats worked, didn't it?"
"You son of a—"
Turk guffawed with delight, jumping out of range of Cole's furious blow. "And you said you couldn't! You'll strut for a month, now, I guess—and be so smug you won't get a lick of work done!"
Cole gave up and laughed. "I'll beat your head in later."
"I'll keep it ready for you,"Turk said complacently. "Lacy, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she whispered tearfully. "Oh,Turk. I'm just fine!"
Cole got up and lifted her, tenderly, into his arms. He couldn't take his eyes from her face. "Lacy," he whispered, and bent to kiss her with reverence and wonder.
She kissed him back, aware somewhere in the back of her mind that Turk had gone off grinning to share the news with the rest of the world. Lacy didn't mind. She could hardly contain her own joy. And Cole's was overwhelming.
Their son was born seven months later. Marion's death had been the only shadow on their delight, but the birth of the child took some of the edge off their keen mourning. They named him Jude Everett Whitehall. Two years later, another son was born, and he was called James. Two miracles, their mother and father related when they were old enough to under stand. Their joy was complete.
James never married. He became a doctor and opened a practice in San Antonio. Jude married a young debutante named Marguerite and produced two sons, Jason Everett Whitehall and Duncan Whitehall. Turk's daughter Mary married a Texas rancher with a huge property of his own. Casa Verde passed eventually to Turk's nephew and namesake, Jude Whitehall. The younger man moved there with his family and lived very happily for many years. Ben became a bestselling novelist and made a mint. He and Faye bought property in San Antonio and treated their daughter Teresa, whom everyone called Tess, to the Grand Tour when she came of age. The Great Depression wiped out Cole's investments, but Lacy had kept out of the market, so the ranch prospered even then and grew to enormous size and fame.
Turk and Katy had a long and happy life together. When she was eventually widowed, a wealthy financier named Blake Wardell from Chicago appeared out of nowhere to comfort Katy and Mary Elizabeth and tie up all the loose ends. The community around Victoria was scandalized when less than six months later, Katy married the Chicago philanthropist—with no protest whatsoever from her radiant daughter Mary—and went off to live in Chicago. Mary surprised everyone by studying medicine and following in her cousin James's foot-
steps. She became the first woman doctor in Spanish Flats and eventually married a neighboring rancher with her doting stepfather to give her away.
All that, however, lay far in the future as Cole carried Lacy back toward the ranch house. He had yet to hold his first child in his arms.
"So long ago," Lacy said softly.
He searched her eyes. "What was?"he asked, smiling tenderly.
She smiled back. "I was thinking of the first time I saw you, sitting on horseback when the car drove up at the steps. I think I loved you then, you know. You were every dream I ever had." The smile faded. "You still are. You're everything!"
He had to catch his breath and get rid of the lump in his throat before he could speak. "No, little one," he whispered. "You are." He bent and kissed her softly. "You're the world and everything in it. I'll love you until I die, Lacy. And forever after."
She snuggled closer and closed her eyes as his long strides took them to the house. The sun was just going down in the afternoon sky. Lacy watched the lazy red patterns in the clouds before Cole stepped up onto the porch. Another day past. But now every new one would be complete in itself, every minute would take on new meaning, new joy. She clung to Cole with her heart in her eyes.
"It's only begun!" she whispered. "Cole, we've got all the tomorrows there are!"
He nodded. "All the tomorrows there are, my darling."
He carried her into the house, to the uproarious congratulations and laughter of the rest of the family. Love filled the very walls that day—and all the days that came after.