Heart of Texas Vol. 3: Caroline's Child. Debbie Macomber

naturally,” Dovie told him. “I guess he talked to Laredo earlier this evening. He just got home.” She paused for breath. “Has the baby come yet?”

      “Nope, and according to Jane it could be hours before the blessed event.”

      “How’s Savannah?”

      “Better than Laredo,” Grady said.

      Dovie’s soft laugh drifted over the line. “Give her my love?”

      “Of course.”

      “And call me the minute you hear, understand? I don’t care what time of day or night it is.”

      “You got it,” he said on the tail end of a yawn.

      “Don’t let me down, Grady.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her.

      By the time he returned to the living room, Cal had picked up a magazine and was flipping through the pages.

      “You read that one an hour ago,” Grady reminded him.

      “So I did.”

      A few minutes later Caroline came into the room, and Grady leaped to his feet. “Sit down,” he urged his wife. “You look exhausted.” She should have been in bed hours ago, but he knew better than to suggest it. Caroline was as stubborn as they came, but then so was he. They understood each other, and he could appreciate her need to be with her best friend.

      “It won’t be long now,” she told him as she slid her arms around his waist. “The baby’s crowned.”

      Grady nodded. “Wonderful. How’s Savannah?”

      “She’s doing well.”

      “And Laredo?”

      “He’s holding Savannah’s hand and helping her with her breathing.” Grady sat down, pulling Caroline onto his lap. She pressed her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her temple.

      Grady glanced in Cal’s direction and found he’d folded his arms and shut his eyes. Caroline’s eyes were closed, too, and Grady decided to rest his own. Just for a few minutes, he told himself.

      An infant’s cry shattered the silence. Grady jerked awake and Caroline jumped to her feet and shook her head. “Oh, my goodness!” she gasped.

      Grady hadn’t a clue how long they’d been out. Cal straightened and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

      “The kid’s got one hell of a pair of lungs.”

      A few minutes later the bedroom door opened and Laredo emerged, carrying a tiny bundle in his arms. Grady noted that his friend’s eyes were bright and his cheeks tear-streaked.

      “We have a daughter,” he said, gazing with awe at the baby he held. “Laura Rose, meet your family,” he whispered to the newborn. “This is your uncle Grady and aunt Caroline.”

      “Hey, don’t forget me,” Cal said, stepping over to gaze down at the baby.

      “That’s Cal,” Laredo continued. “His wife’s the one who coaxed you into the world.” Laredo gazed at the small group gathered around the baby. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he said. “Doesn’t she look like Savannah?”

      Grady studied Laura Rose carefully and decided she looked more like an alien, but he certainly didn’t say so.

      Another hour passed before Grady and Caroline were in their own home and their own bed. Fortunately the rain had ended. Grady had carried a sleeping Maggie from Savannah’s place to the car and then into her room; she never did wake up. He was exhausted, too. This had been a night to remember. His sister was a mother, and for the first time in his life he was an uncle. Damn, but it felt good.

      Caroline pulled back the covers and joined him. She sighed as her head hit the pillow. “Did anyone phone Dovie?” she asked.

      “I did,” Grady said as he reached for the light.

      “Good.” Caroline rolled onto her side. “I think I could sleep for a week,” she mumbled.

      Grady drew his wife close, cuddling her spoon-fashion. His arm went around her and he flattened his hand against her stomach and grinned, feeling extraordinarily happy. Soon Laura Rose would have a cousin.

      TRAVIS AWOKE AND LAY IN the warm bed, unwilling to face the bright morning light. Not just yet, anyway. Something warm nestled against his feet, and he was content to stay exactly as he was for a few more minutes.

      Despite his exhaustion, he’d had a hard time falling asleep. It didn’t help that his legs stuck out a good six inches over the end of the bed. Those cowboys must’ve been pretty short guys, he thought wryly.

      His eyes flew open as his toes felt something damp and ticklish. He bolted upright to find a goat standing at the foot of the bed, chewing for all it was worth. It didn’t take Travis long to realize that the animal had eaten the socks clean off his feet. All that remained were a few rows of ribbing on his ankles.

      Obviously, once he’d fallen asleep, he’d slept deeply—the sleep of the jet-lagged. He laughed and wiggled his toes just to be sure the socks were the only thing the goat had enjoyed. So far, so good.

      “Yucky, what are you doing in here?”

      The door flew open and Nell’s boy—Jeremy, if Travis remembered correctly—rushed inside.

      The boy planted his hands on his hips and glared at the goat.

      “’Morning,” Travis said.

      “Hi.” Jeremy smiled and must have noticed Travis’s feet for the first time because he burst out laughing. “Yucky ate your socks!”

      “So I noticed.”

      “Sorry,” Jeremy said, sounding anything but. He covered his mouth to hide a giggle, which made the situation even more amusing. “Mom said to tell you breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes if you’re interested.”

      Travis didn’t need a second invitation. His stomach growled at the mere mention of food. If the cinnamon roll the night before was any indication, Nell Bishop was one hell of a cook.

      Travis dressed, showered and shaved, entering the kitchen just as Nell set a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table.

      “’Morning,” he greeted her.

      “’Morning,” she returned and poured him a mug of coffee.

      Travis gratefully accepted it and pulled out a chair. Nell joined him and the children, and the three bowed their heads for grace. The instant they were through, Jeremy reached for the platter.

      His mother sent him a warning glance and Jeremy immediately passed the platter to Travis. “Here,” the boy said. “You’re our guest. Please help yourself.”

      Travis was impressed with the boy’s manners. So many children didn’t seem to have any these days. He forked some fluffy scrambled eggs onto his plate and took a piece of toast from a bread basket in the center of the table. He gave Nell a sidelong glance as she buttered her own toast. She was obviously doing her best to be a good mother. The owner of the B and B had told him Nell was a widow, and he admired her for the loving manner in which she schooled her children.

      “You collected all the eggs?” Nell asked Emma, interrupting his thoughts.

      “Yes, Mama.”

      “Did you check under Bertha?”

      The little girl grinned and nodded.

      “I understand,” Nell said, turning to Travis, “that we owe you a pair of socks.”

      He glanced up from his plate and saw that her mouth quivered with the beginnings of a smile.

      “Best darn pair I owned.”

      “Your