A Thin Line (55 page)

“Are you hurting?”
 

“I’m sore.
 
Mrs. Fisher said I would be and would need to take it easy for a couple of days.
 
I’m sure today’s activities didn’t help any.
 
Gabe, if childbirth is worse than what I went through, then I’m doomed.”

“Mrs. Fisher had some wise words.
 
She said after childbirth you had a baby to make you forget the pain, but with this you had nothing,” he caught the tear that slipped through her lashes on his thumb.
 
“But just in case, I will be with you through it all from now on.
 
The good and the bad.
 
I love you, Kala.”

“I love you, so much,” she whispered.

He got off the bed and stoked the fire, even though it was past dawn.
 
He pulled the heavier drapes over the window to block out the light, then stripped off his clothes.
 
He climbed back into bed and took Kala into his arms.

“I love you, Pest, always and forever.
 
I don’t care what trouble we find ourselves in in the future, promise me you will never leave me like you did.”

“Never,” she promised, finding strength in her husband’s arms.

Epilogue

“One more push, Mikala,” her husband whispered in her ear as he held her upright.

“No, too tired.
 
It can stay where it is.”

“Mr. Hawke, you have to get her to push.
 
Another contraction is coming,” the familiar voice of Mrs. Fisher announced.

“No more.
 
Gabriel James Hawke, I swear if you ever think of even touching me again, I’m going to tell Papa… Oh, oh, oh,” she gave a guttural cry.

“Kala, if you want the pain to stop you have to push.
 
Now!” Somehow his wife found the strength to push not one more, but three more times before their baby slid out into Mrs. Fisher’s capable hands.

“You have a girl,” she said with a laugh.

Kala looked down at the tiny bundle that Mrs. Fisher placed on her stomach.
 
She touched her daughter hesitantly, amazed.
 
Gabe touched the wrinkled brow gently, until it smoothed under his touch.

“Grandmother said she knew we were going to have a girl first.”

“Of course she did.
 
Did you?”

He looked at her sheepishly.

“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely and tears stung his eyes.

“Who are you talking to?” Mikala asked sleepily.

“Both of you.”

“Both of us?
 
Did you and the boys imbibe too much again tonight?” The boys she referred to included Derek, Richard, Mack and Justin.
 
The group had gone together to Convent Gardens for an outdoor masquerade.
 

“No,” he sat up in the bed rubbing his hands over his face.
 
His hands had a fine tremor to them.

“Gabriel James Hawke, what is the matter?”

“A dream.”

“Not in the manner of your grandmother’s, I hope.”
 
She watched as her husband quickly knelt beside her on the bed and pulled the sheets back.
 
He ran his hands over her flat stomach before collapsing back on his side of the bed.
 
He let out his breath in a whoosh.
 
“Gabriel, what is going on?
 
What was this dream about?”

“We had a baby girl.
 
I remained with you the entire time.
 
I think we were at the cottage because Mrs. Fisher was there.”

Ever since her solicitor had found the cottage, they spent as much time there as possible, just being Mr. and Mrs. Hawke.
 
They explored all the areas related to Arthur and they had gone back to the gorge on several occasions.
 
The cottage held special memories, even though some were not pleasant.
 
It was there they had finally set aside their differences and focused on becoming man and wife, for better or worse, always promising to trust, but not necessarily obey.

“Gabriel, I have something to tell you.
 
I wanted to wait until your birthday, but…”

“Well, what is it?”

She propped herself up on his chest and gazed lovingly into his silver-blue eyes.
 
She traced the scar that graced his cheek.
 
“You
are
going to be a papa,” she whispered before kissing his lips.

“The dream,” he finally said breaking away from her.
 

“Only time will tell what it will be.”

“Are you all right?”

“Wonderful.
 
I haven’t been sick once, thank goodness.”

“And…”

Kala had spent a lot of time with Tessa and Derek’s twins and Drucilla’s children and felt much more prepared to be a mother.
 
She still had regrets about the baby she lost, but knew now that everything happened for a reason.
 
Deep within her, she still felt that two years ago neither she nor Gabe were prepared to be parents.

“I am ready to be a mother now.”
 
She pushed into the warmth of his hand cupping her cheek.

“I adore you,” he whispered.

Six months after the dream…

When Mrs. Fisher allowed Gabe back into the room, he sat beside Kala on the bed, one arm wrapped securely around her shoulders and the other tenderly touching their daughter’s tiny fingers.
 
The baby grasped her father’s finger tightly, her face screwed up as if she were about to howl.
 
She was only a little over two hours old, but already showed signs of a temper.
 
Kala quickly soothed her by gently running her fingers along her forehead and whispering to her.
 
Gabe looked at Kala, tears shimmering in his eyes not for the first time that day, and bent down to capture her lips.

“I don’t know who looks worse, me or you,” Kala teased.
 
“And you already knew what would happen.”

“It still didn’t prepare me for the reality of it all.
 
Thank you, Pest,” he said, choked.
 

“For what?” She asked amazed at the emotion Gabe revealed.
 
Even though he told her every day he loved her since that day in the gorge, he still very much remained a duke.
 
He had his duties and it was still difficult to get him to find time to have fun, although she had gotten him to take a break now and again.
 
She knew now that the baby was here, he would make even more opportunities to stop and enjoy life and his family.
 

They had spent the intervening time since then getting to know each other as man and wife.
 
No longer did she look at Gabe as a hero.
 
He was her husband, her lover and her friend.
 
She infinitely preferred his new place in her life.
 
Heroes became tarnished, but the man would remain true and steadfast.
 

“Thank you for giving me our daughter and for enduring the pain.”
 
His words brought her out of her thoughts.

“It wasn’t so bad,” she scoffed.

“Wasn’t bad?” He laughed.
 
“Do you remember the names you called me?”
 
He watched as a mutinous look stole over his wife’s features.
 

“You know, there is a thin line between love and hate,” she murmured teasingly.
 

“Yes, and it is a good thing that you are on the right side of that line,” he declared and they both laughed softly.
 
“I love you, Mikala, forever and always.”
 
Then Gabe captured her lips in a soul-searing kiss.

“Forever and always,” she murmured back.

About the Author

I grew up in the Panhandle of Texas, but have always been fascinated with the land of my forefathers – England, Scotland, and Ireland.
 
I also classify myself as a true romantic, and find I frequently dream of greater than life heroes that leave me thinking – that is what love should be like.
 
So, I work on creating love stories with strong women and stronger men, and let the battle of wills ensue.
 
I am currently busy writing my fourth book in my little cottage in the woods of North Texas with my cat, Ajax, to keep me company.

I would love to hear from those who read my books.
 
I can be contacted at:
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Tammy Jo Burns

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I truly hope you enjoyed this book!

Warm wishes & happy reading,

Tammy Jo

A Traitorous Heart

The Reluctant Lords, Book 1

“Good evening, my lord,” Lieutenant Harding greeted Derek as he arrived at the safe house well past midnight.

“Lieutenant,” Derek nodded curtly.
 
Harding held Goliath while Derek lowered himself to the ground.
 
Derek untied the cane and removed the two pistols.
 
“The prisoner?”

“Upstairs, my lord.
 
She’s a right fetchin’ lass.”
 
Derek nodded, but paused giving Harding a look that had the man looking sheepish.
 
“Pardon me, my lord.”
 
Derek prominently limped as he moved toward the stairs, leaning heavily on his cane.
 
His leg began to throb uncomfortably.
 
He silently reprimanded himself for not taking a carriage.

“Has the physician arrived yet?”

“No, my lord.”

“Show him up as soon as he arrives.”

“Yes, my lord.”
 
Derek climbed the short entrance stairs and saw the guards standing at the far end of the hall.
 
He gave a short nod before entering the chamber where they held the prisoner.
 
The guard opened the door for him and closed it firmly after he entered.
 
A slight figure lay on the bed in the shadows.
 
The fire burned cheerfully in the grate belying the seriousness of the situation.
 
Derek stopped in front of the fire and removed his coat, waistcoat, and cravat.
 
He knew from experience it would be a long evening and decided to get as comfortable as possible.
 
He wished for a draught for his leg, but needed all his wits for questioning the prisoner.

Derek lit a candle from the fire.
 
The glow showed the cracks in the ceiling and the stained walls.
 
If this were not more of a prison, it would be a slum.
 
He moved towards the bed and noticed the prisoner dressed as if she resided here, her clothes little more than rags.
 
She looked more like a street urchin than a woman with traitor’s secrets.
 

Her feet and good arm were manacled to the thick bedposts by long chains.
 
Her other arm lay at a slightly odd angle from the shoulder, and her skin looked pasty and covered with perspiration.
 
Her auburn curls caressed her sunken cheeks.
 
She looked to be in desperate need of food.
 
A light blanket covered her, but her teeth still clicked together as if she were freezing.
 
He attributed the action to shock.
 

Derek lowered the candle to get a better look at the woman’s face.
 
Something familiar tugged at him.
 
He studied her more intently, trying to see past the grime that covered her.
 
His heart picked up an unsteady rhythm.
 
His hands shook and he tried to calm himself, placing the candle on the side table with a thud before he dropped it and caught the whole bloody house on fire.

She turned her eyes away from the candlelight, and a moan escaped her lips.
 
Her hair lay matted at the base of her skull.
 
He lightly touched the area and discovered a huge lump.
 
Upon withdrawing his fingers he found them coated in her blood.

He took out his handkerchief and wiped at the red staining his hand, unable to remove it completely.
 
He lectured himself about look-a-likes and imposters.
 
She could not have survived.
 
No one had. He had been assured over and over.
 
Derek grasped her pointed little chin in his hand and turned her face towards him once more.
 
She cried out at the movement.
 
He focused on the freckles scattered across her upturned nose and the lush bow shape of her lips.
 
Her brow furrowed in pain, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.