“EASY NOW, SLOAN,” McCall ordered. “You’re pulling too hard.”
“Maybe it’s not time yet? Maybe we should wait a few hours?” Alyce Wren added from behind McCall. “There’s no hurrying nature.”
Sloan glanced at his wife, then the old woman he’d given up hope on ever being quiet. He pulled the bandanna from his neck and began wrapping it around the unborn’s legs. “I’ve delivered a few before, you know,” he mumbled.
“You’re right,” McCall agreed proudly. “Ten last year and maybe as many as twenty this year.” She stroked the mare’s nose. “But this one’s special.”
“This one’s special,” he agreed as he moved his hands inside the womb and began gently guiding the colt out. “This one will be my son’s first horse.”
“We’ll see.” Alyce folded her arms over her chest and paced just outside the stall. “He’s not climbing on any animal that’s wild-eyed. I don’t care what you two promised one another you’d give Scott for his fourth birthday.”
“By the time the colt’s ready for riding, he’ll be able to handle it.” Sloan winked at McCall. “If the horse is wild-eyed, we’ll give it to Scott’s little sister, Taylor Ann. She’ll be like her mother in a few years, able to tame anything.”
“Stop that teasing,” Alyce Wren grumbled. “I’m going to have to live to be a hundred as it is to help raise your children.”
Sloan didn’t answer as he pulled a beautiful long-legged foal from its mother. With sure, gentle hands, he moved from its nose and across the wet coat, cleaning the animal.
McCall couldn’t stop the tears. “She’s a beauty.”
“That she is,” Sloan agreed, wondering if he’d ever grow tired of raising horses.
McCall worked beside him as Alyce Wren backed away. “Well, now I know the horse is all right, I need to go check on the babies. I swear Lacy gets so busy cooking sometimes, she forgets to watch Scott properly. Or she’ll let him go off riding in the wagon with Starkie like the man had the sense given a groundhog. She told me they planned to take the children to town this afternoon. I’d better go along.”
Sloan opened his mouth to argue that both Lacy and Starkie loved his children and that he couldn’t have gotten the ranch off the ground in just four years if it hadn’t been for them. He’d started off hiring the couple, but they’d soon become as much family as Alyce Wren.
Winter had quickly decided he was overmothered and headed north where the country was wilder and more to his liking. McCall had been packed every morning for a week, planning to find him and bring him home, but Sloan finally convinced her that the boy had to find his own way. He’d settled on the plains on a huge ranch, and from his letters seemed happy.
Shaking his head, Sloan remained silent and Alyce continued. He knew it would do no good to argue. The only two people in this world who were perfect, according to Miss Alyce, were his children. She often reminded both McCall and Sloan of what a wonder that was, considering their lineage.
An hour later, Sloan and McCall were washing up at the pump when they heard the wagon pull away from the house.
“Want to go?” he asked, knowing they could easily saddle up and catch the wagon before it even got off their land.
“No.” McCall lifted her hair and rubbed a cool cloth behind her neck. “I’m kind of tired. I thought I’d take a nap.”
The wagon was only a jingle as Sloan curled his fingers around her throat and leaned to gently kiss her. “I love kissing you in the open with the sun warming your face.” He couldn’t resist sliding his fingers along her open collar. “I’m not tired, but I might join you in bed for a while.”
McCall tried to look shocked. “In broad daylight?”
“It’s dark in the dugout.”
McCall smiled. “I love kissing you in the cool shadows.”
Sloan lifted her in his arms and walked slowly to the trees and the dugout. The day was warm. She was soft and yielding in his arms, her kiss already hungry. All around him the smell of spring filled his lungs. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears as though it might explode from the pure joy of living. The taste of her was passion’s drug he grew more addicted to each day.
As he laid her on the cool sheets in the shadowy dugout, he slowed, wanting to enjoy every moment of undressing her. McCall seemed to understand, for she made no move as his fingers unbuttoned her dress and pushed it aside.
His hand moved the length of her, caressing. As always when he touched her, he paused over the tiny scar on her shoulder. The mark always reminded him of how cherished her love was to him.
When he lowered himself beside her, his hand spread across her abdomen, pressing gently. “I want to see my child growing inside you once more,” he whispered. “I want to feel a new life moving here every night when I hold you.”
“I want it too,” she whispered, tired of the precautions they’d had to take since her last pregnancy.
“But I won’t risk losing you,” he hesitated.
“My deliveries were easy. I want to have another. We’ll take precautions after the next time.”
“You promise,” he whispered as he brushed the hair from her forehead and wondered how she could grow more beautiful every day.
“Or the next.” She laughed. “Alyce Wren may have to live to be a hundred and twenty to keep an eye on them all.”
Sloan pulled her closer. “I’ll do my best to keep her busy.”