LaceysWay (29 page)

“J.J.…” Susanne whimpered her brother’s name.

“He’s past help,” Matt said curtly. “Please, Susanne,” he
implored. “Go get the doctor.”

With a nod, Susanne rose to her feet and ran from the room.

“Lacey.” Matt called her name, begging her not to die. But
she only lay there, as still as death. Clutching her hand in his, he willed his
strength into her. Time and again he glanced at the door. Where was the doctor?
What was taking so long?

After what seemed like hours, the doctor entered the room,
followed by Sheriff Henderson. The sawbones carried a large black bag;
Henderson held a gun.

The doctor didn’t waste time examining Tucker. The man was
obviously dead. He knelt beside Lacey, his face grave as he quickly determined
the extent of the injury. The bullet had passed cleanly through her body.
Fortunately, no major damage had been done. Opening his bag, he began to treat
the wound.

“I’ll take that gun, Drago,” Henderson said curtly, and Matt
handed it over without a word, too concerned about Lacey to argue.

Henderson pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket
and tossed them to Matt. “Put ‘em on.”

Matt slipped the cuffs off, his eyes never leaving Lacey’s
face. She was moaning softly. “Is she gonna be all right, Doc?” he asked.

“It’s too soon to tell. The bullet missed her heart, but
she’s lost a lot of blood. And she’s in labor.” The doctor finished bandaging
the wound, wiped his hands, and stood up. “Bill, help me get her on the bed.”

Henderson glanced at Matt, then holstered his gun. Drago
wasn’t going anywhere.

Gently the two men lifted Lacey and placed her on the bed,
She groaned, her hands clutching her belly, her head moving back and forth on
the pillow.

“I’ll wait outside,” Henderson said. He picked up Tucker’s
gun and tossed a blanket over J.J.’s body before leaving the room.

Matt stood beside the bed as the doctor undressed Lacey,
then covered her with a sheet.

Susanne entered the room a few minutes later, followed by
Robert Morrison. They had stopped at the church to postpone the wedding, saying
only that an emergency had arisen. Leaving a church full of people to wonder
what had happened.

Susanne looked at Matt, and then at Lacey. And then at the
blanket-draped body of her brother.
This was all J.J.’s fault
, she
thought sadly. She had adored him all her life. Too late, she realized she had
idolized a man who never existed.

“How’s Lacey?” Susanne asked.

Matt shrugged. “She’s lost a lot of blood. And she’s in
labor.”

Susanne nodded. She felt so calm. Why wasn’t she crying?
J.J. was dead, her whole life should be shattered. “I didn’t tell the sheriff,”
she said, seeing the handcuffs on Matt’s wrists. “He was having a cup of coffee
with Doc Bradley when I got there.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt said. He winced as Lacey cried
out, her voice thick with pain as his child struggled to be born. “Hang on,
Lacey,” he begged. Kneeling beside the bed, he took her hand in his and gave it
a squeeze.

“Matt, I want Matt.”

“I’m here.”

Her eyelids fluttered open. Her eyes were dark with pain and
fear. “Matt, I’m so afraid.”

“Don’t be. Everything will be all right. I promise.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered. “Everything hurts. Why? What’s
wrong with me?”

“The baby’s coming,” Matt explained.

“But it’s too soon!”

“Relax, honey, just relax.”

“I can’t. It hurts.” She began to cry softly as a
contraction knifed through her. She clung to Matt’s hand, her eyes fixed on his
face, her grip loosening as the contraction passed. There was a pain in her
chest. She frowned as she looked down and saw the bandage wrapped around her
upper body. “What happened?”

“You’ve been hurt. Tucker…” Tears stung his eyes, and he
swore softly. It was his fault she’d been shot, his fault she was in such pain.
If he’d stayed away from her, none of this would have happened.

“He shot you,” Lacey said. “I remember now.” She searched
Matt’s face. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. The bullet missed me and hit you.”

Before she could absorb that, another contraction hit her,
and then another.

“I think you’d best leave the room, Miss Tucker, Mr.
Morrison. And you, too, Drago.”

“I’m staying,” Matt said.

“We’ll go,” Morrison said. He took Susanne by the hand and
started for the door. “We’ll be downstairs if you need us.”

The doctor looked at Matt speculatively. “Have you ever
delivered a baby before?”

“No.”

“Think you can work around those cuffs?”

“I’ll manage.”

Things moved quickly after that. Lacey was lost in a world
of pain as her baby made its way into the world. It was Matt who caught the
child as it emerged from the womb, and he cried unashamedly as he stared at the
tiny scrap of humanity cradled in his hands. It was a boy, with a thatch of
thick black hair and smoky blue eyes.

The doctor cut the cord, quickly examined the baby,
pronounced it as healthy as could be expected seeing as how it was almost a
month premature, and then turned back to Lacey. She had passed the afterbirth
and was bleeding profusely.

Matt held his son, freshly washed and wrapped in a blanket,
while the doctor fought to save Lacey’s life. Sometime during the long night,
Susanne came in and took the baby, but Matt hardly noticed. He refused to leave
Lacey’s side. A short time later Morrison brought Matt a plate of food and a
cup of coffee. Matt drank the coffee but left the food untouched.

“You should eat,” the doctor advised. He gestured at his own
plate with his fork. “It’s good, and you need the strength.

Matt shook his head. He was vaguely aware of Susanne moving
in and out of the room as the hours passed. It was near midnight when Susanne
went to bed. The doctor fell asleep in the chair beside the window, but Matt
stayed at Lacey’s side. Her face was pale, so pale, her lips almost blue, her
hands cold.

He knelt by the bed, his dark eyes haunted and sad. “Don’t
die, Lacey,” he begged in a choked voice. “Please don’t die. I need you. Our
son needs you.”

He was still awake when dawn brightened the horizon. Dr.
Bradley woke with a start, stood up, and placed his stethoscope to Lacey’s
chest. When he looked at Matt, there was little hope in his expression.

“I’ve done all I can do,” Bradley said. “It’s up to her now.
All we can do is pray.” He moved quietly around the room, garnering his
instruments. “Call me if there’s any change.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Doc.”

Henderson entered the room as Bradley went out. “Let’s go,
Drago,” he said gruffly. “I’ve got work to do.”

Matt shook his head. “I can’t leave her.”

“And I can’t sit around here all day to keep an eye on you.
Miss Tucker can let you know if anything happens.”

“What are you holding me for anyway, Sheriff?” Matt asked
brusquely. “I killed J.J. in self-defense.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s up to a jury to decide.”

“Ask Susanne. She was here. She saw the whole thing.”

“We’ll still need a trial.”

Matt let out a sigh of exasperation. “Dammit, Henderson, I’m
not going anywhere. I’ve got a brand new baby to care for and a wife who’s…
Dammit, I won’t leave her.”

“What’s going on in here?” Susanne asked. She glanced from
the sheriff to Matt. “You’re making too much noise. The baby’s asleep, and
Lacey needs her rest. If you must argue, go outside.”

“Susanne, tell him I shot J.J. in self-defense. Maybe he’ll
listen to you.”

Susanne glanced at the bloodstain on the bedroom floor.
During the night, Robert had removed the body. She wondered absently if they
would ever be able to wash the blood from the wood.

“Susanne?”

She looked at Matt and then at the sheriff. “It was
self-defense.” She blinked back her tears. “J.J. was going to kill Matt. His
shot went wide because I hit his arm, and the bullet hit Lacey instead. Matt
fired his gun in self-defense.”

Henderson nodded slowly. She was telling the truth, he had
no doubt of that. Everyone knew how much she had loved J.J. She wouldn’t lie
about how he died.

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.