Prince Charming (65 page)

“When did you figure that out?”

“The rabbit.”

She didn't understand. She had to wait until he stopped laughing to hear his explanation.

“It was your concern about your garden, I suppose,” he said. And the way she had pulled out her gun to protect what belonged to her.

“What's mine stays mine.”

She was throwing his words back at him. He nodded. “That's right.”

He cupped the back of her neck and drew her down for another long kiss. When she finally pulled away, he let out another satisfied sigh.

She stretched out next to him. They stared up at the night. She thought about their future. He thought about his past.

Neither spoke for several minutes. Taylor thought the night was filled with magic. She inhaled the sweet mountain air and closed her eyes. She had never known such contentment or peace.

“I used to fall asleep every night staring up at the stars. I would pretend I was the only one who could see them. They belonged to me and only me. I didn't have anything to call my own back then, not even a legitimate name.”

He continued to talk for almost an hour about his growing-up years. She didn't interrupt or ask any questions. She simply listened. She smiled when he told her about some of the pranks he and Hunter had pulled, and became teary eyed when he told her about some of the more painful experiences he'd endured.

Lucas didn't tell her about the war until they were on their way back home. It was difficult for him to talk about and nearly unbearable for her to hear. And when he told her what a man named John Caulder had done to him and eight other men, she wept with compassion and sorrow.

“I was the fortunate one,” he told her. “I survived. I couldn't understand why. The others had families waiting for them. I didn't have anyone. Hunter told me there was a reason and eventually I would figure it all out. You helped me do that, sweetheart. I think you and the children are the reason why I was supposed to stick around.”

She smiled over the wonder in his voice. He turned the topic back to Caulder and called him a bastard. She gently corrected him by pointing out that being born out of wedlock wasn't the baby's fault. He hadn't made the choice or done some terrible deed. Caulder deserved to be called every vile name Lucas would think of, but bastard wasn't allowed.

“Will they tell you when they've captured him?”

“Yes.”

“He needs to stand trial. The world needs to know what he did to your friends.”

Lucas knew she was right. He would be their voice when he testified against Caulder.

Lucas told her another war story and when he was finished, he turned the subject to his brothers. He talked about the ranch they were building and how beautiful the land was there. She wanted to know when he was going to get around to introducing his family to his brothers.

He promised her he would take her and the children over the pass as soon as possible. He thought it might be a good idea to bring Kelsey home with them. The boy could use a little mothering and Daniel, or rather Michael, would have the opportunity of getting to know his young uncle. Taylor thought that was a splendid idea.

He wanted to know why she was spending so much time with Rolly. She refused to give him an answer. Lucas assured her he wasn't jealous, but he kept prodding her until she finally told him enough to satisfy him. She said they were working on a special project and he would have to wait to find out what it was.

Lucas decided she must have finally talked Rolly into making a cradle for Victoria's baby and was helping him with the task.

Three weeks later, he realized his guess had been wrong. Rolly stopped by with another gift he was certain they would appreciate. It was yet another rocking chair.

Lucas told Rolly they didn't need it. The giant was just as certain they did. Lucas eventually gave in. He took the rocker and put it with the others.

“Don't you know how to make anything else?” he asked.

“I'm partial to rocking chairs,” Rolly replied.

That evening, after the children had gone to sleep, the four adults sat in the chairs and rocked back and forth. Taylor was the first to start laughing. Then Victoria joined in, and it wasn't long before Hunter and Lucas began laughing too.

They made so much noise, they woke the children. Taylor dabbed at the corners of her eyes while she explained to the little ones that she was laughing with happiness because they had so many fine chairs.

“Guess I'll start work on a cradle,” Hunter told Victoria.

“Guess I'll have to build another room,” Lucas drawled out. “If Rolly doesn't run out of wood soon, we'll need the space.”

That statement started everyone laughing again. The twins were cuddled up on their father's lap. They didn't understand why everyone was so amused, but they laughed all the same.

Taylor's son sat with her. He thought his parents were crazy.

“We're just enjoying ourselves, Daniel,” she explained.

“It's Michael now, not Daniel, Mother. Please get it right.”

His sassy tone of voice astounded her. She burst into laughter again. She wrapped her arms around her son and hugged him. “I'll try to get it right, Michael.”

She kissed him good night and sent him up to bed. Lucas carried his daughters.

Victoria stood up, took hold of Hunter's hand, and led him outside. From the way the two of them were gazing at each other, Taylor knew there would be a wedding soon.

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and let the sounds of the night float around her. She could hear the twins giving their father fits. Allie was upset because her papa hadn't tucked her baby under the covers just right. Then Georgie started in. She gave her papa several reasons why she couldn't go to sleep. Lucas finally got the two of them settled down by starting a bedtime story he let his son select from his favorites.

Lucas was far more patient with the children than she was. He wasn't perfect, however. She was going to have to ask him to stop using blasphemies, for just the other day Georgie had settled herself at the table, propped her face up in her hands with her elbows on the tabletop, and asked, “What the hell's for supper, Mama?”

Lucas was definitely going to have to start guarding his language.

Taylor's thoughts flittered from one lazy thought to another. She knew she was about to drift off to sleep, and so she said her prayers. She thanked God for her blessings, and when she was finished, she whispered good night to Madam.

She had to have known. Oh, yes, she'd known Lucas was the man of her dreams. She would have found out all about him from the information she'd gathered in her file.

Tell the babies kind stories about me. Taylor hadn't forgotten Madam's request. She would tell the children hundreds of stories about their great-grandmother, but the one she would most enjoy relating would be about the gift the grand lady had given her. She would tell them how she met and married Prince Charming.

DUTTON

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Excerpt from
The Ideal Man
copyright © 2011 by Julie Garwood

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T
he first time she slit a man's throat she felt sick to her stomach. The second time? Not so much.

After cutting five or six more, the blade in her left hand began to feel like an extension of her body, and she started to take it all in stride. The exhilaration subsided, and so did the nausea. There was no longer a rush of anxiety, no longer a racing heartbeat. Blood didn't faze her. The thrill was gone, and that, in her line of work, was a very good thing.

Dr. Eleanor Kathleen Sullivan, or Ellie, as she was called by her family and friends, was just two days shy of completing a grueling surgical fellowship in one of the busiest trauma centers in the Midwest. Since trauma was her specialty, she had certainly seen her share of mangled and brutalized bodies. It was her responsibility to put them back together, and as a senior fellow, she had the added duty of training the first- and second-year residents.

St. Vincent's emergency room had been full since four a.m. that morning, and Ellie was completing what she hoped was her last surgery of the day, a repair of a splenic rupture. A teenager, barely old enough to have a driver's license, had decided to test the limits of the speedometer in his parents' Camry and had lost control, rolling the car over an embankment and landing upside down in an open field. Lucky for him, he had been wearing a seat belt, and luckier still, a man following some distance behind him had seen the whole thing and was able to call for an ambulance immediately. The boy made it to the emergency room just in time.

Ellie was observed by three second-year surgical residents, who hung on her every word. She was a natural teacher and, unlike 90 percent of the surgeons on staff at St. Vincent's Hospital, didn't have much of an ego. She was amazingly patient with the medical students and residents. While she worked, she explained—and explained again—until they finally understood what she was doing and why. No question was deemed too insignificant or foolish, which was one of the many reasons they idolized her, and for the male residents, the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous didn't hurt. Because she was such a talented surgeon and supportive teacher, all these fledgling doctors fought to sign up for her rotation. Ironically, what most of them didn't know was that she was younger than most of them.

“You're off duty this weekend, aren't you, Ellie?”

Ellie glanced over at Dr. Kevin Andrews, the anesthesiologist, who had asked the question. He had joined the staff six months before and, since the day he'd met Ellie, had been hounding her to go out with him. He was an outrageous flirt and yet very sweet. Blond hair, blue eyes, tall, and well built with an adorable smile, he could turn the head of almost every woman in the hospital, but for Ellie there just wasn't any spark.

“Yes, I am,” she answered. “Charlie, would you like to close up for me?” she asked one of the hovering residents.

“Absolutely, Dr. Sullivan.”

“You better hurry,” Andrews said. “I'm waking him up.”

The resident looked panic-stricken.

“Take your time, Charlie. He's just messing with you,” she said, a smile in her voice.

“Tuesday's your last day at St. Vincent's, isn't it?” Andrews asked.