The Ruffian and the Rose by Colleen French

Author:Colleen French [French, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Evan Marshall Agency
Published: 2019-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Keely sighed, snuggling down in the fresh-smelling blankets, her small bundle pressed to her side. "I'm sorry the babe isn't a boy," she told Brock sleepily.

He laughed, coming to sit down beside her on the edge of the bed. "Who said I wanted a boy?" he asked, pressing a finger to the tiny starfish hands that waved in the air.

Keely smiled, tired but content. Her hazel eyes sparkled with a pride for her husband she'd never known. He had cared for her so tenderly, warding off her fears with his quiet assurance as he'd brought their child into the world. "Every man wants a boy," she teased softly.

"Maybe next time." He stroked the cap of dark red fuzz that covered the baby's perfectly shaped head. "But this girl-child, she was meant to be." He brushed the baby's cheek with a finger and she turned her head instinctively toward it. "I think she's hungry."

Pulling aside her clean nightgown, Keely moved the baby to her bare breast, sighing. "She's very strong."

"And only a little small," Brock assured her.

Keely's eyes met Brock's. "I'm sorry I left you on the road like that."

"In the rain . . ." he added.

She smiled. "In the rain. But you wouldn't listen to me." Her hazel eyes searched his. "Jenna said you were in danger and that I had to go."

He nodded cautiously. "So it was Jenna and not Micah?"

Keely frowned. "Did Micah know too?"

Brock brushed a lock of bright red hair off Keely's cheek. "We'll talk of it later. You get some sleep now." He motioned to the window. "It's nearly dawn."

Her eyes drifted shut. "All right, we'll talk of it later," she conceded. "But"—her eyes flew open—"we will talk."

"I promise." Brock lowered his head to brush his lips against Keely's. Thank God she's all right, was all he could think.

Keely savored the feel of Brock's lips against hers as he lingered over her. Of its own accord her hand lifted to stroke his striking jawline. "Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes again.

Brock guided her hand beneath the cover and leaned to kiss his daughter's tiny head. "Sleep," he murmured. "Sleep now."

Two days later Keely sat up in bed, eating from a dinner tray Brock had brought himself. Beside the bed, baby Laura Gwen slept contentedly in the cradle Brock had slept in as a child.

"Did you eat?" Keely asked, offering a fork full of buttered, mashed turnip.

"I did." Brock leaned forward in the chair, opening his mouth to accept the offering. "But you know me. Always hungry."

"You look like you finally got some rest." Keely sampled a slice of roasted chicken, trying to sound nonchalant. Brock had not come to her bed last night as she had expected and she was worried. Did he think that now that they had a child his husbandly duties were fulfilled? Did he intend never to sleep with her again? "Where did you sleep?" she asked.

"Lloyd's room. I didn't want to disturb you and the babe." He crossed his long legs in front of him.

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