Page 31 of Into the Starlight (Secrets of Sweetwater Crossing #3)

May 7, 1884

“Are you ready for Burke?” Louisa asked as she straightened the coverlet.

“ We are.” Joanna smiled, her gaze fixed on the infant sleeping in her arms, the love she felt for this tiny bundle of humanity overwhelming her with its intensity.

“All right. I’ll leave you alone.” Louisa opened the door. “Come on in, Papa.”

Without waiting for Louisa to leave, Burke burst into the room. “Are you all right?” he demanded.

Joanna nodded, watching as the worried lines that marked his handsome face vanished when he saw her propped up in bed and holding a baby. Louisa had claimed that he was the worst expectant father she’d encountered, that he wouldn’t believe her when she told him everything was going well, but Joanna had thought her sister had exaggerated. It appeared she had not.

“These have been the longest six hours of my life,” Burke declared as he studied Joanna’s face.

It was love that made him so frantic, the same love that made Burke insist on fetching Louisa the minute Joanna’s pains began, even though they both knew it would be hours before the baby arrived.

Joanna gave her husband an indulgent smile. “You’re a doctor, Burke. You know that childbirth is not a painless event. I’m fine—a little sore, of course—but so happy.” She lifted the baby and pressed a kiss to the tiny nose. “Look at him, Burke. Our son is perfect.”

The last of Burke’s worries faded, and a grin split his face. “A boy? Louisa wouldn’t tell me even when I threatened to stop teaching her.”

That was an idle threat if Joanna had ever heard one. Almost daily Burke told her how much he enjoyed having Louisa as his partner. Sweetwater Crossing’s women and children relied on her for all but the most serious of ailments, while the men—still convinced that women weren’t suited to be physicians—gave thanks that Burke was there to treat them.

Joanna feigned indignation. “How could you have had any doubts? Didn’t I tell you we were having a son?”

A shrug was Burke’s first response. “Yes,” he admitted, “but you’ve been wrong before. Don’t forget that you were certain Emily’s baby would be a boy.”

“Must you remind me of my mistakes?” Joanna’s heart overflowed with happiness every time she thought of her niece, the first of a new generation, who’d been named after their mother. “Prudence is a beautiful little girl.”

“She is indeed,” Burke agreed before transferring his gaze from Joanna to the infant in her arms. “And Curtis is the most handsome little boy in all of Texas.”

The boy whose wrinkled red face was far from handsome began to squirm. Joanna shifted him slightly, hoping he’d remain asleep for another minute or two. “Are you sure you don’t mind naming him that?”

Burke shook his head. “For the hundredth time, no, I don’t mind. ‘Curtis’ pays tribute to the man who sired him. It’s a good name for our son.”

Joanna looked from the baby to the man she loved so dearly. “Our son. Do you know how much I love hearing you say that?”

“Probably almost as much as I love saying it.” Hesitation etched Burke’s face. “Do I dare hold him?”

“Of course you do.” She slid Curtis into his father’s arms, smiling when Burke’s smile turned as doting as hers.

“We’re going to have so much fun,” Burke told the still sleeping baby. “You and me, your mother, and any brothers and sisters the good Lord sees fit to give you.”

That was Burke, planning for the future. Joanna chuckled at the realization that he’d already forgotten how much he’d fretted while she was in labor.

“Siblings will have to wait a while, but Curtis will have another cousin.”

Burke turned his attention from his son to her, his eyebrows raised in a question. “Emily or Louisa?”

“Louisa. When I told her she was a cruel taskmaster to make me keep walking when the contractions hit, she said I could do the same thing to her in seven months.” The news that all three Vaughn sisters would have children close to the same age had been almost enough to make Joanna forget her pain. Almost.

Burke’s smile turned into a full-fledged laugh. “Three babies in one year. Didn’t I tell you this was going to be a great year?”

“You did.” The memory of the tragic way 1883 had ended had faded, replaced by days, weeks, then months filled with joy and anticipation.

“Just think, Burke. This is only the beginning.”