Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER…
“Come on, Ben! Open up!” Wyatt knocked harder on the door to Ben’s office, then jiggled the knob one more time, though it hadn’t budged the first, second, or third time he tried it.
“Wyatt?” He turned at the sound of the voice behind him to see Lucy standing on the porch.
“I need Ben.”
“He isn’t here. He’s out at the Franklin place. Jeb broke his leg.” She tilted her head as she looked at him. “Is it time?”
Wyatt heaved in his breath, his heart racing much too fast from both his breakneck ride into town, as well as the fact that his son was about to be born. “Yes, it’s time. Mama and Royce are with her, but we need Ben.”
“You should get Corianna.”
“Corianna? She’s not a doctor.”
“No, but she’s been working rather closely with Ben and Mrs. Haggarty to become a midwife when she’s not at Sullivan’s. Since Ben and Mrs. Haggarty aren’t in town at the moment, Corianna is your only choice, but I think she’ll know what to do.”
“Where is she?”
Lucy glanced at the timepiece pinned to her blouse. “I would imagine she’s at the store right now.”
He didn’t say another word, simply ran to his horse, mounted up and rode to Sullivan’s, his heart pounding as hard as Brigadier’s hooves.
He almost broke the bell as he slammed into Sullivan’s and started yelling even before the door closed. “Corianna!” He barely noticed Tresia standing behind the counter, rocking a small, swaddled bundle in her arms.
“Wyatt! What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He could barely catch his breath. “Is Corianna here? I need her to come out to the ranch. Sherry is in labor and Ben is out at the Franklin place. Mrs. Haggarty is out of town, too.”
“She’s studying in the back room. I’ll get her.”
Tresia moved from behind the counter, much too slowly for his peace of mind, but brought Corianna out from the back storage room. She held a leather medical bag in her hand, from the looks of it, brand new.
“I’m ready,” she said as she moved toward the door, fully expecting him to follow. She seemed competent and sure, the complete opposite of how he felt at this moment.
“I’m sorry, all I have is my horse. You’ll have to ride behind me.”
“That’s fine.” She handed him her medical bag, the new leather creaking when he slipped the handle over the saddle horn. “And don’t worry. I’ve delivered babies before.”
He gave a slight nod, then climbed into the saddle and reached down for her hand. Like she’d been doing it all her life, Corianna settled in behind him. “Hold tight.”
She wrapped her arms around him just seconds before he spurred Brigadier.
The ride was silent. She didn’t speak and neither did he. Actually, he was having a tough time even forming coherent thoughts, worry for Sheridan and his unborn son uppermost in his mind.
“Where is she?” Corianna asked as she slipped from the horse’s back when they arrived at Stone Creek. She smoothed out her split skirt, reached up for her medical bag, then took the porch steps and waited for him at the door.
“Upstairs. My mother is with her.” Wyatt dismounted, tied Brigadier’s reins to a porch post then climbed the steps, joining her at the door. He opened it and followed her inside, but as soon as he tried to go upstairs, she stopped him by laying her hand upon his chest gently.
“No, you can’t come up. I’ll take good care of Sheridan and the baby. Trust me.”
Wyatt watched her go upstairs, then paced the parlor, stopping only briefly to accept a cup of coffee from Royce, though he didn’t taste a thing as he took a sip.
“She’ll be all right.” Royce clapped him on the back.
“It’s taking too long.”
“Babies take their own sweet time, Wyatt. He’ll come when he’s ready.” The man smiled at him. “Funny how we all assume it’ll be a son. What if it’s a girl?”
“I’ll love her just the same. Maybe even more, especially if she looks like her mother.”
He started pacing again, unable to sit still, then glanced at the clock, watching as the minute hand slowly moved.
Actually, it didn’t look like it was moving at all, and every time he heard Sheridan moan or cry out, he had to stop himself from rushing up the stairs.
They didn’t need him now. He’d only be in the way.
He drank his coffee, though he didn’t taste it at all, then ran his fingers over the keys of the piano. The noise was jarring, and he stopped, then continued pacing from one end of the parlor to the other, until he heard the lusty sounds of a baby’s wail.
“Nice set of lungs,” Royce commented with a laugh then grabbed his arm, preventing him from rushing upstairs. “No, you can’t go up there just yet. Give them a moment or two to get everything settled. They’ll let you know when it’s time. Finish your coffee.”
He looked at his empty cup, wondering how he had finished it without realizing it. “I did.” Glancing up from his cup to Royce, he asked. “How can you be so calm? How do you know so much about babies and giving birth?”
“Common sense, my boy. Common sense. You seem to forget the fact that I have two daughters and a son of my own, plus several grandchildren. Sheridan won’t want you to see her just yet, just like my late wife didn’t want me to see her. Giving birth is not a pretty business.”
He nodded, but that didn’t stop his anxiety. He listened to the noises above him, the shuffling of feet, the laughter, especially his mother’s, and realized that everything was all right.
It seemed to take forever between the time he heard the baby’s cry and when Corianna came to stand at the top of the stairs. “You can come up now.”
He needed no second invitation and charged up the stairs. “Is she all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine. The baby is, too. You have a fine, healthy son, Wyatt. Ten fingers, ten toes, and, as you can hear, a healthy set of lungs.”
He moved past Corianna and knocked softly on the door. Delilah answered, the sheets from the bed bundled in her arms. “He’s beautiful, Wyatt.” She opened the door wide and moved aside so he could enter.
One would never have known that Sheridan had just given birth.
She looked beautiful, sitting up in bed, pillows behind her to support her, dressed in a fresh nightgown.
Her hair had been brushed, too, and pulled away from the sides of her face with a pair of fancy combs.
She cooed to the precious child in her arms then looked up, her eyes wide and filled with pride and happiness as well as exhaustion.
“Come and meet your son,” she said, her voice hoarse, but strong.
Wyatt stepped away from the door, overwhelmed, a lump forming in his throat, though his heart burst with gratitude and love. So much love. “Are you all right?”
“Just a little tired.” She pulled the blanket away from the little face in her arms. “Look what we made, Wyatt.” She looked up at him, awestruck. “He’s perfect.”
He slowly lowered himself to the side of the bed, careful not to cause her any pain, and looked at his son. The pride he felt brought tears to his eyes.
“What shall we name him?”
He laughed, so filled with happiness he could barely contain it. “Wyatt, of course.”
“Of course.” She laughed softly. “What about a middle name?”
“Lucien. For Lucy. She sure knew what she was doing when she sent me to Josie’s that night.” He caressed her cheek, his fingertips smoothing over her velvety skin, then glanced down at the baby in her arms. “I’m awfully glad she did.”
“Me, too.” She smiled. “I think I loved you the moment I saw you, even though you thought I would go upstairs with you.”
He laughed at that. Yes, he had wanted her to go upstairs with him, but this…this was so much better. He now had everything he’d ever wanted, and he couldn’t ask for more.
“I love you, Mr. MacLean,” Sheridan murmured as she brought his face closer to her own.
“I love you, too, Mrs. MacLean. And I always will.” He sealed that promise with a kiss.
The Beginning