With a sigh of regret, Henderson removed the handcuffs from Matt’s wrists. “Don’t leave town, Drago,” he muttered. “Good day, Miss Tucker. My condolences about your brother.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
Susanne smiled wanly at Matt, then followed Henderson out of the room and closed the door.
Chapter Nineteen
The sound of a baby’s cry penetrated the mists of darkness that sheltered her like loving arms, standing between Lacey and the pain that waited to claim her.
A baby, she mused. Why, there’s a baby in the house! She tried to remember whose baby it was, but the darkness closed in on her again, wrapping her in black velvet oblivion.
She seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper, drowning in layers of blackness. Just let go, a voice whispered, softly enticing and persuasive. Just let go.
It was Death’s voice, soft and seductive, coaxing her to turn her back on life, on pain, to surrender to endless peace and forgetfulness.
Just let go. She felt herself slowly sinking deeper into the nothingness of infinity and she lacked the strength to resist.
“Lacey!”
A voice pierced the darkness, a voice filled with unbearable anguish.
“Lacey!” It came again, calling her back, begging her not to die. A man’s voice. A familiar voice.
With great effort, she drew away from the all-encompassing darkness as the voice sobbed her name again and again.
Matt. It was Matt’s voice, calling her back from the brink of eternity, begging her not to leave him.
He was crying. The thought tore at her heart. She loved him so much, and he was crying. Her Matt, so big, so strong, so endlessly sure of himself, crying because of her.
It was more than she could bear.
She struggled against the web of darkness, fighting her way toward the light, toward the sound of Matt’s voice.
A low moan escaped her lips as the darkness withdrew, leaving her at the mercy of the throbbing pain in her chest, the weary ache in her body. It was an effort to open her eyes, but worth the struggle. Matt’s face was the first thing she saw. His dark eyes were shadowed and sad. There was a three-day growth of beard on his jaw.
“Lacey,” he breathed. “Thank God.”
“You look terrible,” she murmured weakly.
“And you look beautiful.” Gently he kissed her cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I heard your voice calling me,” Lacey said, her brow furrowed as she tried to remember. “I heard your voice and I knew you were crying, and I couldn’t bear to think that you were unhappy.” She looked up into his face, his beloved face, and then she frowned. “Matt, I heard a baby cry.”
“It was your son. Our son.”
Lacey placed her hands on her stomach. It hadn’t been a dream, then. “Where is he? I want to see him.”
“I’ll get him.” Rising, Matt kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand, and kissed her again before he left the room.
He returned moments later carrying a tiny, blanket-wrapped bundle. Reverently he placed the child in Lacey’s outstretched arms, and shed tears of joy and gratitude as he watched Lacey count each tiny finger and toe.
“He’s beautiful,” she murmured fervently. “He looks just like you.”
Matt let out a long sigh of contentment, certain he had never seen anything more wonderful than the sight of Lacey cradling their son.
Lacey smiled up at Matt, warmed through and through by the love she saw reflected in his eyes. “Come and sit with us,” she invited, patting the bed beside her. “Daddy.”
Matt sat beside Lacey, his arm around her waist. “Daddy. That takes some getting used to.”
“Oh, Matt, isn’t he beautiful?”
“You are.” His arm tightened around her waist. She looked so pale, so thin, and so beautiful.
“Have you named him?” Lacey asked.
Matt shook his head, marveling at the way the baby gripped his finger. “No, I was waiting until you were better. I thought maybe you should decide.”
Lacey gazed into her son’s face. He was so beautiful, so perfect, a living, breathing miracle of her love for Matt.
“I think we should name him Matthew Royce Drago, after his father and grandfather. Oh, Matt, won’t Daddy be surprised!”
Matt nodded, his gaze meeting Lacey’s over the top of their son’s head. Slowly they came together, their lips meeting in a joyous kiss that was filled with all the love and promise the future would hold.
Epilogue
Lacey sat on the grassy riverbank, her bare feet dangling in the sun-dappled water. Beside her, Matt Jr. slept peacefully on a blanket, his thumb jammed into his mouth, his knees drawn up under his chest. He was a darling baby, with wavy black hair, dark blue eyes, and tawny skin. No other child ever born was as cute, as smart, as beautiful.
The past was finally behind them. There had been an inquest following J.J.’s death. Susanne had testified that Matt had shot her brother in self-defense, and the case had been closed. The funeral had been the next day. Dr. Bradley had refused to let Lacey attend, and for that she had been grateful.
Six weeks after her son was born, the doctor pronounced her well enough to get out of bed. Two weeks later, Susanne married Robert Morrison in a quiet ceremony. Matt and Lacey left for Kansas the next day. There, in a quaint country church, they repeated their wedding vows. Royce Montana had given the bride away, Blue Willow had been Lacey’s matron of honor.
Now, only a few months later, they had a home of their own in a lush green valley not far from where Lacey’s father lived.
She smiled as Matt came to sit beside her, her heart beating faster at his nearness. How handsome he was, and how she loved him!
Her heart filled with tenderness as she watched Matt stroke their son’s downy cheek with a calloused thumb. What a picture they made together, her husband, so tall and dark and handsome, and her son, a tiny replica of his father.
She sighed as Matt slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close.
“Happy, honey?” he asked.
“So happy,” she murmured, and knew she would ask nothing more of life than to have her son safely by her side and Matt’s midnight blue eyes gazing lovingly into her own.
“So happy,” she said again, and lifted her face for her husband’s kiss, a kiss that was as fervent as a prayer, as warm as the summer sun, and as beautiful as the love they shared.
About Madeline Baker
Madeline Baker started writing simply for the fun of it. Now she is the award-winning author of more than thirty historical romances and one of the most popular writers of Native American romance. She lives in California, where she was born and raised.
Madeline welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Madeline Baker
Apache Flame
A Whisper in the Wind
Cheyenne Surrender
Dakota Dreams
Hawk’s Woman
Heart of the Hunter
Lakota Love Song
Love’s Serenade
Midnight Fire
Reckless 1: Reckless Heart
Reckless 2: Reckless Love
Reckless 3: Reckless Desire
Reckless 4: Reckless Embrace
Renegade Heart
Shadows Through Time
The Spirit Path
Warrior’s Lady
Wolf Shadow
Under Apache Skies
Print books by Madeline Baker
Apache Flame
Dakota Dreams
Hawk’s Woman
Heart of the Hunter
Lakota Love Song
Reckless 1: Reckle
ss Heart
Reckless 2: Reckless Love
Reckless 3: Reckless Desire
Shadows Through Time
Under Apache Skies
Wolf Shadow
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Lacey’s Way
ISBN 9781419942426
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Lacey’s Way Copyright © 1990, 2013 Madeline Baker
Cover design by Dar Albert
Photos: Fotolia.com and Hotdamnstock.com
Electronic book publication March 2013
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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