McKettrick's Choice - Linda Lael Miller [146]
Melina stirred, moaned softly.
“More ether?” Lorelei whispered.
The doctor shook his head. “I’ll be through here in a few minutes. She’ll be hurting when she comes around, but my guess is, she won’t mind it much when she gets a look at that baby boy.”
Lorelei bit her lower lip, marveling at the infant, even though he didn’t look all that prepossessing at the moment. He snuffled against Melina’s bosom, all four limbs still moving, and made a soft, mewling sound. “A little laudanum, perhaps?” she ventured, thrummingly aware, in every fiber of her being, of that hip-to-hip incision, now being closed with catgut stitches and a huge needle.
“Laudanum might get into the milk,” Dr. Brown said. “She’s tough. She’ll be under the weather for a few weeks, then good as new.” He raised his eyes only when he’d tied off the last suture. “Don’t just stand there,” he grumbled. “One of you, wash that baby so he’ll be presentable when his mama wakes up.”
Heddy gathered up the child, crooning to him.
Dr. Brown nodded to Lorelei, and she set the ether-tinged cloth aside.
“You can go out back and tell the men this part’s over,” he said, with a slight smile.
Lorelei drew a deep breath, smoothed her hair and skirts, and headed for the outside door. Holt, Frank Corrales, the Captain and Mr. Cavanagh were all standing under the same oak tree, talking quietly, but the gestures of their hands and the set of their shoulders betrayed their worry.
She smiled, picked up her skirts, and descended the two steps to the ground. “Melina’s had her baby,” she announced, even as the bad news Holt had brought her earlier rushed back into her mind, demanding its due. “It’s a boy.”
Holt’s worry-creased face came alive with a dazzling grin. “That ought to cheer Gabe up considerably,” he said, slapping Frank on the back at the same time.
“Guess I’d better fetch Tillie in from the barn,” Mr. Cavanagh said, grinning and rubbing the stubble of beard on his jaws. “She’s been hidin’ out there, with little Pearl, waitin’ for Melina’s travail to pass.” They’d all been humoring Tillie with regards to the boy’s name; in time, they’d persuade her to grant him a new and more suitable one.
The Captain flung down a cigarette he’d probably rolled himself and smashed it out with his boot. “Somebody ought to take the news to Rafe and that poor cowpoke,” he said. “Like as not, they’re thinkin’ there’s been another massacre.” He sighed, and smiled sadly at Lorelei. “Might as well be me, I reckon,” he finished.
As he passed her, he touched her arm. “Holt told me about your place,” he said. “Right sorry.”
Lorelei had been strong, because she’d had to be, for Melina and the baby, but now she stood utterly still, afraid if she moved, she’d fall into tiny, brittle pieces that tinkled as they struck the ground.
Holt approached only when the others were gone. She could tell he wanted to touch her, but he didn’t. He kept his hands loose at his sides.
“You did a brave thing in there, Lorelei,” he said quietly. She would always cherish those words, for here was a man who valued courage above just about everything else. When new trouble came, as it surely would, she could warm herself at the memory, like a winter traveler come upon a campfire.
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Don’t you go being kind to me, Holt McKettrick,” she whispered. “I won’t be able to bear it if you do.”
He crooked an eyebrow, and a hint of a grin curved his mouth. “You’d rather I was mean?”
She lifted her chin, sniffled inelegantly. Fixed her teary gaze on a point just over his left shoulder. “You’ll be going back to town with the doctor, I guess. To tell Gabe he has a son.” A shudder went through her. “I’d like to go with you. It’s time I spoke with my father.”
“All right,” Holt said, but he sounded doubtful. “I don’t suppose there’s a grasshopper