The Bride Wore Spurs (The Inconvenient Bride Series, Book 1) (31 page)

By Thanksgiving, the first few snowflakes of the season began to fall as Hawke and Lacey traveled from their ranch to Three Elk for a holiday supper with the Weatherspoons. Crowfoot, although he'd come a long way in grooming, manners, and speech, and was as comfortable at Three Elk as he was at Winterhawke, stubbornly refused to join the foursome, choosing instead to stay behind and keep watch on the livestock.

As the wagon pulled onto the road leading to Caleb's place, Lacey tilted her head back and stuck out her tongue.

Hawke caught sight of this out of the corner of his eye. "What in hell are you doing?"

She didn't answer him at first, but kept her tongue out until a snowflake finally landed on it. "There," she finally said. "I had to have a taste of the first snow. 'Twill bring us a very lucky winter, you know."

He chuckled gruffly. "Everything is lucky according to you. Is that an Irish thing, or just you?"

Lacey thought on that for a moment. "Perhaps a wee bit of both."

"In that case, see if you can't use that luck to wish for that snowflake to be the last of the day." He glanced up at the sky and frowned. "If there's a blizzard, we could be stuck at Caleb's for weeks."

Lacey hoped he was kidding. While it snowed in Ireland, it didn't happen often, and never to the extremes Hawke was suggesting. She kept a wary eye on the heavens even after they'd arrived at Three Elk, and intended on going outside from time to time to check on the weather. But then Kate bounded down the steps to greet them, pulled her inside the house, and insisted that she immediately go with her to the back bedroom. After that, never again did a thought of the weather cross Lacey's mind.

"What can be such a secret that we must hide in here?" she asked as Kate bodily dragged her into the room and quickly closed the door.

"I've a couple of surprises for ye and I wanted to let ye know about them in private so's we wouldn't blubber in front of our husbands."

"Blubber? If you're thinking to make me cry, then I do not want any of your surprises."

"Yer so sure?" Kate's pale blue eyes twinkled with both mischief and delight. Then she drew back the curtain which concealed her wardrobe, plucked a brown dress from the few hanging there, and draped it across the bedspread. "What do you think?"

With a sigh of admiration, Lacey said, "Oh, Kate—'tis beautiful. You'll be the envy of every woman in the territory wearing this down the streets." She touched the soft wool fabric of the mahogany overskirt and jacket, then slid her fingertips over the center panel and trim, which was made of crisp linen checkered in shades of black and brown.

"'Tisn't mine, lass," said Kate softly. "'Tis yers."

Lacey's heart caught in her throat. "Mine? B-But, how? You can not mean that—"

"I can sure enough. My dear Caleb has informed me there'd be a verra good chance we'll be snowed in by Christmas. 'Tis my early present for ye in case we canna share the day."

On second thought, Lacey decided right then that Kate's idea of coming to the privacy of the bedroom had been the best plan after all. She was most definitely blubbering. "Oh, heavens above," she cried, "I can not thank you enough! I've ne'er had a dress of my own before, only these uniforms."

"I'm well aware of that, lass. I thought it high time ye had yer own gown, so when Caleb and his men drove the cattle to rail in Laramie, I asked him to pick me up some pretty warm material to match yer lovely red hair. Do ye like the color?"

Lacey lifted the dress from the spread and pressed it to her bosom. "I love it, Kate, truly I do. Would it be all right, you think, to wear it to supper today?"

"That's what I was hoping ye'd do."

So excited she could hardly contain herself, Lacey dropped the gown to the bed and reached for the top button of her blouse, but before she could release it, Kate stopped her.

"There'd be one more surprise, first, lass." Moving to the edge of the bed, Kate sat down and patted the spot beside her. "Come, join me a moment."

Lacey dropped down on the bedspread wondering how she could possibly be any more surprised or pleased than she was with the dress. But she was—and very quickly, too.

"I've been verra suspicious about something for weeks now, changes in me that could have been caused by a number of things, especially since this tummy of mine is so fat, anyway. I wanted to be verra sure before I told anyone what I suspected, and this morning came the new sign I was hoping for—movement." A smile nearly splitting her face in two, Kate looked Lacey straight in the eye and took a deep breath. "Oh, lass, I can hardly believe 'tis true myself, but 'twould seem that I'll be having a wee one before the winter is over."

"A wee one? You mean a... a baby?"

"Aye. 'Tis truly a miracle."

"B-but, do you mean to say that you and Caleb have been, well, that you—"

"Aye, and I do mean to say just that." She laughed and patted Lacey's shoulder. "Surely you didna think the bedroom waltz was only meant for the young."

Blushing, Lacey looked away. "I guess I didn't think of it at all."

"Well Caleb did, and I'm verra happy for it. I ne'er even dared to dream this would happen to me so late in life—why I'll be thirty-six when babe is born."

Lacey looked at her in surprise. She hadn't realized a woman that old could even get with child.

But Kate didn't notice her expression. She rambled on, spinning her joy around Lacey like a web. "I think I must be five months gone now, and as I said, this morning I felt the babe moving inside me." She closed her eyes and placed her hand over her round belly. Then she reverently whispered, "I simply canna believe 'tis happened to me again—'tis like the second chance I've prayed for all these years."

"Again?" asked Lacey. "I did not know you had a child."

Kate's eyes popped open as if awakening from a dream, then instantly, they became shuttered. "'Twas a long time ago, lass. I lost the babe well before it could be born. But..." She sighed heavily. "I dona wish to speak of it again. Oh. And ne'er breathe a word of that one to my Caleb. Please?"

"I wouldn't."

"Thank you, lass, and say nothing of this babe either when we go out to our husbands. Next to me, of course, ye were the first to know. I thought ye might like that."

Out in the living room, Hawke toasted Caleb's successful cattle sale with a bottle of home brew. "It looks like we're both about to see our way clear, at last. Congratulations, friend."

After a good long pull of beer, Hawke shifted his hips against his chair, the high stone hearth of the fireplace, then asked, "What do you think the women are up to so long in the bedroom?"

"Hold yur horses. I expect it's got something to do with the bolt of wool I picked up in town last month. Have a little patience, and you'll see soon enough."

"I hope by soon you mean in the next minute or so." He sniffed the air again, torturing himself. "I don't know what all Kate has cooking out there, but I'm just this side of going out to the kitchen and helping myself."

Caleb wagged a finger in his face. "Better not try that, if you know what's good for you. That woman's got herself a temper, eww-wee, does she got herself a temper. I don't know why she ain't red-haired like Lacey with all the steam she's got built up inside that head of hers."

"It used to be red, Caleb," said Kate as she rounded the corner into the living room. "But I blow my top so often, I burned all the color off and now I'm a blond. Does that make ye feel better?"

Still facing Hawke, he grimaced and mouthed, "I got trouble now, friend."

But surprising them both, Kate began to laugh. "Get up the two of ye. There'd be a lady coming into the room."

Hawke didn't waste any more time than Caleb did getting to his feet. As they glanced toward the hallway, Lacey suddenly appeared in an elegant new dress. Hawke whistled appreciatively, then twirled his finger, bidding her to turn around.

"Do you like it?" she asked, noting his admiring gaze. "Kate made it for me as an early Christmas present."

Hawke was stunned at the least, for he'd never imagined Lacey dressed in the same way as the fashionable ladies of Laramie. It was a style that suited her well—even if it did make him feel less suited to her.

"You look beautiful, Lacey," he said at last. "All dressed up with nowhere to go. It will be a good long time before I can take you to town, you know."

"I know that," she said, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she swished past the men on her way to the kitchen. "I intend to wear my new dress only on special occasions like today, and of course, the first time we go to town next spring. Now if you men will excuse us, we've a Thanksgiving feast to dish up."

Which was more than all right with Hawke. When they finally sat down to the meal, the table was laden with platters of ham, baked chicken, and stuffed pork fillets. Side dishes included something called donegal pie—a mixture of bacon, hard-boiled eggs, and mashed potatoes baked up inside a pastry crust—and mutton broth. Everything looked and smelled so good, it was all Hawke could do to keep from sneaking a chunk of pork during the prayer time Kate insisted on before they ate.

"... and so Lord," she went on, "may the blessing of the five loaves and two fishes be ours; and may the King who made division put luck in our food and a good heart to the babe who's to come our way in March."

Hawke, whose eyes weren't closed, but at half-mast to better keep watch over the food, saw Lacey and Kate take a peep at Caleb, who almost looked as if he'd fallen asleep.

Picking up where Kate left off, Lacey cleared her throat and finished the prayer. "We give thanks, Lord, for all your earthly blessings, and pray that Kate and Caleb's child will be born with better ears than his father. Amen."

Hawke and Lacey exchanged a meaningful glance, while Caleb, who'd opened his eyes, just sat there staring at his empty supper plate. Finally he raised his head, looked at his wife, and asked, "What's all this chatter about babes and children?"

Kate sighed heavily. "Oh, Caleb, darlin'. Are ye sure that cow didna kick yer head after she finished with yer knee? Ye have na been listenin' to a word I said."

Hawke, who was in a kind of mute shock himself, glanced at Caleb, noting the thunderstruck, confused look on his face. Friends to the end, he decided to take it upon himself to sum up the message in language more easily understood. "What she said was that she'd be calving sometime in March, and you're the herd bull responsible for the new breed of Weatherspoon. Get it, Daddy?"

Caleb went kind of white, which was saying something since the summer sun had baked his skin until it was almost as dark as Hawke's. "Calving? You mean... Kate is..." He couldn't think of a delicate way to put it, so he put his arms out in front of his stomach in an enormous circle.

"Aye, you silly fool," said the mother-to-be. "I think I shall be, er,
calving
, sometime around the end of March."

And just like that, the big former mountain man passed out. Then he pitched forward across the table, his bulbous nose digging a mighty deep post hole in Kate's donegal pie.

For a woman with child, she was up and out of her chair in a flash, pulling her husband's face out of the mashed potatoes and making certain his air passages were clear.

Seeing that his friend was in good hands but no danger, Hawke couldn't find a reason to keep supper on hold any longer. He stabbed a pair of plump juicy pork chops and dropped them on his plate.

Lacey turned to her husband, her eyes a little misty, and said, "Tis a wonderful miracle, 'tis it not, Kate and Caleb having a child?"

His mouth full of pork, Hawke nodded, intending to stuff yet another forkful of tender meat between his teeth. But then he caught Lacey's gaze and the unmistakable glimmer of envy shining through her unshed tears. The fork fell from his hand, landing with a clatter against his plate as he finally allowed the news of Kate's pregnancy to go full circle in his mind. There was joy in the having of this child for the Weatherspoons, a joy Hawke didn't begrudge them in the slightest, but for some reason, all he could feel was sad. Is that what he'd seen in Lacey's eyes instead of envy? Sadness because she couldn't allow herself to have the children of a half-breed?

If so, that explained her expression, but it didn't go far in helping him to understand the source of his own melancholy—or whatever it was that had come over him. He sure as hell didn't want kids, so it couldn't be that. But even as Hawke reaffirmed that belief to himself, a gentle tug at the soft spot inside him suggested declarations such as those were no longer true.

With a heavy sigh, and an even heavier heart, he dropped both his hands to the table. His appetite gone, Hawke had to wonder; why in the hell couldn't he and Lacey visit Three Elk Ranch without having something pointed out to them that they could never have?

* * *

Fulfilling the prognostications at Thanksgiving, the weather turned bad late that night after the Winterhawkes returned to their home. And it stayed that way right through Christmas and beyond. At first, Lacey was absolutely delighted by the heavy snowfall, and could spend hours just watching it swirl down from the heavens to land in flowing white mounds sculpted by the wind. By Christmas she'd had her fill of nature's attempts at ice art. And by mid-January, she thought she might even go mad if she had to spend one more day locked up in the house.