McKettrick's Choice - Linda Lael Miller [158]
He kissed her again. “It’s a deal,” he said.
EPILOGUE
The Triple M Ranch, September 30, 1888
ANGUS MCKETTRICK was a big man, gray of hair and broad of shoulder. He stood in the dooryard of his ranch house, beaming as the weary riders crossed the creek.
His gaze rested calmly on each of his sons, when they came dripping ashore, then swung to Lorelei, on her mule, with little John Henry perched on the saddle, safe in the curve of her arm.
“Shall I send for a preacher?” he asked, and Lorelei’s heart warmed at the welcome she saw twinkling in his eyes.
Holt laughed and swung down off the Appaloosa’s back. “We’re already married, old man,” he said. “Lorelei, this is your father-in-law. Pa, my wife.”
Angus slapped his thigh with his hat, his craggy face splitting into a triumphant grin. “Best news yet,” he said. “And who’s the boy?”
“This is John Henry,” Lorelei replied, as Angus approached. He reached up, and the child went to him willingly.
“John Henry McKettrick,” Holt added.
Angus gave his son a speculative glance, though most of his attention was reserved for the baby.
“He lost his family in a Comanche attack,” Holt said.
Angus held the boy a little more tightly. “He’s got a new one, now,” he said. He nodded a greeting to Frank, and Holt made another introduction.
Rafe shifted in the saddle. “Emmeline around?” he asked, casting a glance back at the fine house on the other side of the creek.
“She’s in town, with all the rest of the women, Lizzie included,” Angus said, eyeing the sling Rafe wore. “What happened to your arm?”
“Long story,” Rafe said. “You reckon they’ll be back soon? The women, I mean?”
Angus smiled. “Soon enough,” he answered. He smiled up at Lorelei. “Come on in, Mrs. McKettrick,” he said. “Time you made yourself at home.”
Holt looked up at her. “Mrs. McKettrick,” he repeated, grinning. “I like the sound of that.”
She smiled, allowed him to help her down off Seesaw’s back. “So do I,” she answered.
An hour later, two buckboards rolled up outside the house, full of women and babies.
Lorelei recognized Lizzie instantly. She was a pretty child, with dark hair and her father’s eyes, and when she saw Holt, she leaped out of the wagon and hit the ground running.
Holt laughed aloud, swept her up in his arms and spun her around.
“What did you bring me?” she demanded, when he put her down.
“A mother,” he answered. “And a baby brother, too. Lizzie, this is Lorelei.”
Lorelei braced herself as the girl’s gaze darted from her to the baby and back again, sizing her up.
A breathless moment passed.
“Do you love my papa?” Lizzie demanded.
“Yes,” Lorelei said.
“Then you’ll do.”
Lizzie moved in closer, to look at the child. “What’s his name?”
“John Henry,” Lorelei answered quietly. “He can’t hear, Lizzie. I mean to send back East for some books, so I can learn sign language, and teach it to him. Maybe you’d like to learn, too.”
Lizzie’s eyes were luminous. “Oh, yes,” she said. “May I hold him?”
Lorelei nodded, handed John Henry carefully to his sister.
“I reckon I ought to teach him to ride and shoot, too, when the time comes,” Lizzie said.
Lorelei glanced at Holt, saw him grin. There was pride in his eyes, as he looked at his children.
John Henry gurgled and tugged at one of Lizzie’s dark curls, and the bond was forged.
The other McKettrick women clustered around, all of them holding babies. There was Concepcion, with Holt’s little sister, Katie, in her arms. There was Rafe’s Emmeline, fussing over his injured arm. Kade’s Mandy. Jeb’s Chloe.
Lorelei’s head spun.
When the others headed for the house, chattering, Holt took Lorelei’s hand, held her back.
“Walk with me,” he said.
They started toward the creek, sparkling in the late-afternoon sunlight. Lorelei took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you, Holt.”
He looked down into her face. “I know,” he replied quietly. “I’ve seen you watching me, when you thought