Jake (19 page)

Read Jake Online

Authors: Cynthia Woolf

He’d bought some land in Deadwood proper and built Becky her dream house. A white two-story wooden house with picket fence and a wide porch on the front with rockers where they could sit and catch up on their day.

He didn’t care about anything as long as Becky was alright.

“It’s been too long,” he said to the room at large.

“Sometimes birthing can take days,” said Liam.

“Days?!” Jake dropped into a chair next to his oldest brother.

Liam clapped him on the back. “Yup, days. Becky is up there now, saying things about you, calling you all kinds of names for doing this to her. But she’ll forgive you everything once that babe is in her arms.”

“Have you heard from Zach?” asked Jake, trying to get his mind off the goings on in the bedroom above him.

“No. He’s still at the mine. He’ll be here soon as he hears Doc is up here.”

Jake popped up out of the chair at the sound of a baby’s cry from overhead. “It’s here,” he shouted and sprinted to the door and up the stairs, two at a time.

He reached his and Becky’s bedroom and carefully opened the door. He didn’t want to startle anyone and have them drop his baby.

Becky was sitting up in their four poster canopy bed. Lizzy, the maid, had changed the linens and was putting Becky in a fresh nightgown. Becky was still sweaty and her hair hung lank around her shoulders. She looked beautiful.

He walked to her and kissed her forehead. “How are you? Are you all right?”

She smiled up at him. “I’m wonderful. Look at her.”

It was then he noticed Becky was holding their baby. He’d been so worried about Becky and so relieved she was well, he’d nearly forgotten the reason they were here.

“A girl?”

“Uh huh,” said Becky. She opened the swaddling and let him see the baby.

He counted fingers and toes and ran his fingers though the downy red hair on her head. His heart filled to overflowing as he looked at his two girls.

“Do you suppose she’ll keep the red hair?” asked Jake. “I’m kind of partial to redheads.”

Becky laughed. A light tinkling sound that filled the room.

He was so happy to hear her laughter and not her moans of pain he almost didn’t hear when Doc Cochran answered his question.

“No telling,” said Doc from the other side of the room. He was washing up from delivering the baby.

Jake walked over to the doctor. “Thanks, Doc. Thanks very much for my wife and daughter.”

Doc smiled up at him through his round spectacles. “My pleasure. I wish my job entailed more of this and less of…well, what it does. These are happy times for you.”

The doctor wiped his hands on the towel.

Jake held his hand out to the doctor. “If there is ever anything I can do for you, Doc, all you have to do is say so.”

The doctor took Jake’s hand and returned the shake. “No need. I’m just doing my job. The favorite part of my job, so if you want to keep me happy, you’ll be bringing me more of this kind of business.”

Jake grinned, clapped the doctor on the back and returned to Becky’s side.

“What shall we name her?” he said as he sat on the bed by Becky’s head.

“I’ve been thinking. My mother died giving birth to me and I think I’d like to name this little one after her. And I thought, if Liam didn’t mind, we’d also name her after Mary.”

“Jennifer Mary Anderson it is,” said Jake. “Jenny.”

“Jenny,” agreed Becky.

Jake bent down and kissed his daughters forehead. The soft skin and baby smell assaulted him and he was forever changed. He would do anything for this little girl. He put his finger under her hand and her little fingers wound themselves around it.

Smiling he gazed at his beautiful wife as she lay in their bed. “You look tired.”

Becky nodded. “I am. And exhilarated and excited and happy all at once.” She reached up her arms to him. He placed Jenny in them.

Jenny started to fuss and Becky put her to her breast as though she’d been doing it for years rather than the first time. Jenny latched on and Becky made a face.

“Are you all right?”

She smiled. “I’m fine. It’s not quite the same as when you do it.”

He laughed. “No. I don’t suppose it is.”

“Am I interrupting?” asked a deep voice from the doorway.

“I have a daughter,” said Jake jumping up and going to greet Liam.

“Hannah will be thrilled,” said Liam.

“And David will be disappointed,” chuckled Jake. “We named her Jennifer Mary, after Becky’s mother and your Mary. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course, not. Mary would be delighted, if she were here.”

“She’s nursing now but as soon as she’s done, I’ll bring her down for you and the kids to meet.”

“Sounds good.” Liam turned and left.

Jake walked back over to the bed and sat next to Becky where he could see little Jenny nurse. It was amazing. This little person was a part of him. The best part of him and Becky. They’d made her the night they spent at the hotel after Billy’s death.

It was as if to prove that good things can come from bad. His girls were the very best things that ever happened to him.

He would never forget Elizabeth, but nothing could stop his love for Becky and now Jenny. He’d do anything for them. Die for them if he had to and kill to protect them.

Jake bent down, kissed his daughter and then his wife. It was as though he couldn’t get enough of either of them. “Thank you.”

“For what?” asked Becky. “For Jenny?”

“That’s part of it.” He ran his finger over Jenny’s baby cheek. She was trying to go to sleep and her daddy was messing with her.

“And the other part of it?”

“Thank you for being you, for giving me Jenny and most of all, for loving me.”

Becky looked down first at their daughter and then up at him. “I should be thanking you. You saved me and gave me the most wonderful life I could ever have imagined.”

“I think we saved each other. I love you Becky Anderson, my rebel, my redeemer, my wife.”

“And I love you, Jake Anderson. My husband. Forever.”

“Forever.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cynthia Woolf
is the author of six historical western romance books and one short story with more books on the way. She was born in Denver, Colorado and raised in the mountains west of Golden. She spent her early years running wild around the mountain side with her friends.

Their closest neighbor was one quarter of a mile away, so her little brother was her playmate and her best friend. That fierce friendship lasted until his death in 2006.

Cynthia was and is an avid reader. Her mother was a librarian and brought new books home each week. This is where young Cynthia first got the storytelling bug. She wrote her first story at the age of ten. A romance about a little boy she liked at the time.

Cynthia loves writing and reading romance. Her first western romance Tame A Wild Heart, was inspired by the story her mother told her of meeting Cynthia’s father on a ranch in Creede, Colorado. Although Tame A Wild Heart takes place in Creede that is the only similarity between the stories. Her father was a cowboy not a bounty hunter and her mother was a nursemaid (called a nanny now) not the ranch owner.

Cynthia credits her wonderfully supportive husband Jim and the great friends she’s made at CRW for saving her sanity and allowing her to explore her creativity.

Connect with Cynthia Online

www.cynthiawoolf.com

Facebook

Twitter

OTHER TITLES AVAILABLE

NELLIE

The Brides of San Francisco 1

ANNIE

The Brides of San Francisco 2

CORA

The Brides of San Francisco 3

JAKE

Book 1, Destiny in Deadwood series

LIAM

Book 2, Destiny in Deadwood series

ZACH

Book 3, Destiny in Deadwood series

CAPITAL BRIDE

Book 1, Matchmaker & Co. series

HEIRESS BRIDE

Book 2, Matchmaker & Co. series

FIERY BRIDE

Book 3, Matchmaker & Co. series

TAME A WILD HEART

Book 1, Tame series

TAME A WILD WIND

Book 2, Tame series

TAME A WILD BRIDE

Book 3, Tame series

TAME A SUMMER HEART

short story, Tame series

TAME A HONEYMOON HEART

short story in the
Lost In A Kiss
Anthology

WEBSITE –
www.cynthiawoolf.com

NEWSLETTER –
http://bit.ly/1qBWhFQ

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

About the Author

Other Titles by Cynthia Woolf

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