Callahan Mercer had faced blizzards, fire, cattle stampedes, armed men, death, and grief.
None of them frightened him as much as Eveina saying, “The baby is coming.”
For perhaps three seconds, he did absolutely nothing.
Eveina stared.
“Callahan.”
“Yes.”
“You need to move.”
He moved.
Unfortunately, he moved in three directions at once.
“Water. Towels. Doctor.”
“Callahan.”
“Hollis can fetch—”
“Callahan!”
He stopped.
Eveina gripped the table through another contraction.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“No, you are turning gray.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not the one giving birth.”
“That is precisely why I am terrified.”
Despite the pain, Eveina laughed.
The sound calmed him.
Callahan saddled the fastest horse and sent a ranch hand toward town for the midwife.
Eveina had absolutely refused Doctor Weller.
Mrs. Walker arrived first.
Then the midwife, Abigail Rowe, came shortly after sunset.
Abigail examined Eveina.
Callahan waited outside the room like a condemned man.
Finally Abigail opened the door.
“It may be a long night.”
“Is she safe?”
“So far.”
“The baby?”
“So far.”
Those two words became Callahan’s whole world.
So far.
He paced.
Bear paced with him.
At one point Eveina shouted his name.
Callahan nearly tore the door off its hinges.
Abigail opened it.
“She wants you.”
Callahan entered.
Eveina sat propped against pillows.
Sweat covered her face.
Her hair had come loose.
She looked exhausted and furious.
“You.”
He approached.
“This is your fault.”
Callahan blinked.
Eveina stared at him.
Then she started laughing.
“So sorry. Wrong man.”
Callahan laughed too.
Abigail shook her head.
“Good. Humor helps.”
Another contraction hit.
Eveina crushed Callahan’s hand.
He did not complain.
Hours passed.
Midnight.
One.
Two.
The nursery waited across the hall.
At three in the morning, something changed.
Abigail’s expression became serious.
Callahan saw it.
“What?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Do not lie to me.”
Eveina heard.
“What is it?”
Abigail checked again.
“The baby has turned awkwardly.”
Fear filled the room.
Eveina’s eyes went to Callahan.
All the old voices returned in her expression.
He recognized them immediately.
They told me my body couldn’t do this.
Callahan knelt beside her.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Do not listen to them.”
Tears came.
“What if they were right?”
“They were wrong before you ever came through my gate.”
“Callahan—”
“You carried this child through a timber camp, a dust storm, fever, fire, armed men, and me learning how to cook.”
Eveina laughed weakly.
“That last one nearly killed us.”
“Exactly.”
He kissed her hand.
“You are here.”
Abigail worked calmly.
Time passed.
The baby shifted.
“Good,” she said.
Callahan nearly collapsed from relief.
Dawn approached.
Eveina screamed.
Then Abigail said, “Again.”
Eveina pushed.
Callahan stayed beside her.
“Again.”
She pushed.
Then the world changed.
A cry filled the room.
Small.
Angry.
Alive.
Eveina stopped breathing.
Callahan did too.
Abigail lifted the child.
“A girl.”
Eveina covered her face.
“No.”
Callahan panicked.
“What?”
Eveina laughed through tears.
“No, I mean… I can’t believe…”
Abigail placed the baby against her chest.
The child was red-faced and furious.
Eveina stared at her.
Her enormous scarred hands trembled as she touched one tiny cheek.
Every insult she had ever heard became meaningless.
Monster.
Brute.
Ox.
Unnatural.
A tiny hand closed around her finger.
Eveina broke completely.
Callahan stood beside the bed crying openly.
Nobody mocked him.
Nobody dared.
Eveina looked at him.
“Come here.”
He approached.
She shifted the baby.
“Hold her.”
Callahan backed up.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“She’s very small.”
“That is generally how babies arrive.”
“I might—”
“Callahan Mercer.”
He obeyed.
Eveina guided the child into his arms.
The giant rancher became perfectly still.
The baby opened her eyes.
Callahan looked down.
His entire face changed.
Eveina had seen him angry.
Grieving.
Amused.
Protective.
She had never seen peace.
Now she did.
“What will you name her?” Abigail asked.
Eveina looked at Callahan.
“Clara Margaret Reed.”
Callahan’s eyes lifted.
“Margaret?”
“If that’s all right.”
He could not speak.
Eventually he nodded.
Eveina touched his wrist.
“Thomas gave her life.”
Callahan looked down at the baby.
“And Margaret taught us what it costs to love someone who may not stay.”
He swallowed.
Eveina continued.
“They both belong in the story.”
Callahan placed Clara back in her arms.
“And us?”
Eveina looked at him.
“We get to write what comes next.”
The following weeks were chaotic.
Clara did not care that Callahan was feared across three valleys.
At two in the morning, she treated him as a servant.
Callahan walked the hallway holding her against his shoulder.
Bear followed.
Eveina watched from bed.
“You’re spoiling her.”
“She is three weeks old.”
“Exactly. It begins early.”
Callahan looked offended.
Clara burped on his shirt.
Eveina laughed until her stitches hurt.
Life filled the ranch.
The nursery no longer looked like a tomb.
The rocking chair moved.
Blankets piled everywhere.
Tiny clothing hung near the stove.
The wooden horse rested beside the cradle.
One afternoon, Eveina woke from a nap and heard Callahan speaking in the nursery.
She stopped outside.
Clara made soft sounds.
Callahan whispered, “I’m not your father by blood.”
Eveina’s heart tightened.
“But if your mother lets me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt you have one.”
Eveina covered her mouth.
Callahan continued.
“A good man named Thomas should have been here. You will know his name. I promise.”
Eveina entered.
Callahan looked startled.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
He stood.
Eveina approached.
“You don’t need my permission anymore.”
He frowned.
“For what?”
“To love her.”
“I already do.”
“I know.”
She kissed him.
Months later, Grant returned.
Northern Timber had been dismantled across the territory.
Voss had been convicted on multiple charges.
Compensation would be paid to surviving workers and families.
Grant handed Eveina a document.
“What is this?”
“Ownership shares recovered from illegal company holdings.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You and several workers were owed wages for years.”
Eveina read the amount.
Her eyes widened.
“This cannot be right.”
“It is.”
Callahan looked over her shoulder.
“Well.”
Eveina stared.
She was not wealthy.
But she was free.
Completely.
No debt.
No contract.
No one owned a minute of her life.
That evening she buried the old labor agreement beneath the apple tree.
Callahan stood nearby holding Clara.
Eveina covered the paper with dirt.
“Finished?”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
For the first time, it was true.