Etta and Glory pronounced the baby to be absolutely beautiful, an opinion shared by Essie, who had been waiting in the parlor to be called at the appropriate moment. Buddy arrived home in time to give his approval and then it was a silent group who watched as Etta bathed the newborn for the first time.
“Did Cade agree on the name you chose?” Etta asked.
“Glory said if we had a girl I could call her Samantha. I named my dolly that, but I’d rather have a sister with that name,” Essie told Etta as the dark-haired little girl was dried and diapered with expert care.
“He ought to agree. She’s named after his grandmother,” Glory told her.
The doctor left within an hour, after sharing a shot of Cade’s whiskey, and Etta returned to the kitchen to put the rest of their supper together.
In the bedroom upstairs, all was quiet, for Glory was almost asleep, after having been awake almost all night with a backache she had been sure was a far cry from labor.
“I told you so,” Cade said sagely. “I just knew it was time.”
“And not any too quickly, either,” Glory admitted. “For I was thoroughly sick of being pregnant.”
“Doc brought out a letter for us, sweetheart.”
“He did? From your parents?”
Cade nodded. “I’d told them it wouldn’t be long and they said to wire them when the baby came. They want to visit. Will it be all right if they’re here for her christening?”
“You know it will. I’ll be so glad to get back in the habit of going to Sunday church, Cade. I missed it while I was so big and bulky. And we’ll have to plan for Samantha’s christening too.”
“You’re not big and bulky anymore, sweet. You’re downright skin and bones.”
“You lie!” she exclaimed. “But I love you for it. I’m not going to have another baby for at least …” She paused and eyed him from her spot on his pillow. “At least two years,” she said finally. “And then we’ll have your boy.”
“We’ll see.” He bent and kissed her. “I hated to see you in pain, Glory. But I’m so happy that you made it safely.”
“Well, of course I did. My mama said women were made to have babies, and she was right. But it will be a while, Cade. I can’t wait to see my shoes again. I forgot what they looked like over the past couple of months.”
“Same as ever, honey. Maybe it’s time to get you a new pair. Any woman who can deliver a beautiful baby girl deserves at least a new pair of Sunday shoes.”
“And a new dress?” she asked, prodding him gently.
“At the very least, I’d say,” he told her, bending to spread a wealth of kisses across her face. “At the very least.”
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
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First published in Great Britain 2013
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited. Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Carolyn Davidson 2013
eISBN: 978-1-472-00376-8
Table of Contents
Author Note
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Copyright