Chapter Thirteen

Cassie's breath came in sharp gasps as she paced the length of the house, each step measured and deliberate. The pains that gripped her were like none she'd ever known. Her blond hair, usually so neatly styled, clung to her forehead in damp tendrils.

"Lord, have mercy," she whispered between clenched teeth, her blue eyes narrowing with each wave of discomfort.

The door creaked open, and Judy, cheeks flushed from the rush, hurried in, with Hortense trailing behind her. Hortense, with her years of midwifery, cast a practiced eye over Cassie and nodded firmly.

"Judy, go fetch Andy," Hortense instructed, her voice a calm anchor in the storm of Cassie's mounting distress. "It's time."

"Right away," Judy said, the words tumbling out as she turned on her heel and darted back outside to inform Andy his child was on its way.

Alone now with Hortense, Cassie ceased her pacing and leaned heavily against the sturdy dresser, its surface littered with the implements of childbirth. She had no idea how she was going to make it through the birth of this child, but she was going to do her best to not make a fool of herself.

"Can't this baby hurry up?" Cassie huffed, trying to add humor to the situation but falling flat.

"Nature takes its course, dear," Hortense replied, preparing linens with deft hands. "You're doing just fine."

Fine felt like a foreign concept to Cassie as another contraction seized her. She grasped the edge of the dresser, her knuckles whitening. Hours slipped by, marked by the rhythmic ticking of the modest clock on the wall and Cassie's low moans.

"Never...going to end," Cassie muttered, the usual formality of her speech fraying at the edges.

"Shh, now," Hortense soothed as she supported Cassie through another wave. "Your body knows what it's doing."

As the night wore on, Cassie's resolve began to fade. Her strength ebbed, leaving her with a raw, primal urge to scream—to unleash the frustration and anticipation that swelled within her.

And scream she did, a sound that echoed off the walls and spilled out into the cool evening air.

"Let it out, Cassie," Hortense encouraged, not flinching at the display of raw emotion. "It's all right."

WITH THE FINAL PUSH, a stillness fell over the room, punctuated only by the soft cry of new life. Hortense, with practiced hands and a tender smile, wrapped the tiny baby in a homespun blanket and presented it to Cassie.

"Look what you've done," Hortense said, her voice filled with warmth as she placed the baby in Cassie's weary arms.

It was a girl—a beautiful little girl with wisps of blond hair like her mother. Cassie had been so sure she'd bear a son to take after Andy, to work alongside him on the ranch. But here she was, holding a tiny little girl, who seemed too delicate to touch.

"Hello there," Cassie whispered, her voice a pale echo of its usual surety. She took in the miniature features, searching for the overwhelming surge of love she'd been promised.

But it didn't come.

Instead, she felt a curious detachment as she studied the face that somehow mirrored her own blue eyes and Andy's dark, determined brow. A pang of guilt nestled into her chest. Wasn't a mother supposed to be consumed by love the very second she laid eyes on her child?

"Why don't I..." Cassie started, her gaze not leaving the infant's face.

"Give it time, dear," Hortense reassured, patting Cassie's hand. "Love's got a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it."

Cassie nodded, hoping the wise midwife's words would prove true. For now, she held her daughter closer, praying the emotions would come.

The door creaked open, and Andy's boots thudded softly on the wooden floor as he approached with a mix of caution and awe painted across his face. His eyes were wide with an emotion that seemed to be a mix of joy and disbelief.

"Is that...?" His voice trailed off as he came to stand beside Cassie's bed.

Cassie looked up at him, her blond hair clinging damply to her forehead. "A girl," she confirmed, her voice steadier than she felt.

Andy let out a slow breath, the corners of his mouth lifting into a tender smile. "She's beautiful," he murmured, gazing down at the tiny bundle in Cassie's arms. "Like a little daisy."

Cassie's lips twitched, a hint of her humor finding its way through the exhaustion. "Daisy, huh?" She considered the name, turning it over in her mind like a smooth stone from the creek. It was simple, sweet, and somehow fitting for the delicate life she cradled.

Andy nodded, his eyes never leaving the infant's face. "Yeah. Daisy."

"All right then. Daisy it is." Cassie agreed, feeling a flicker of partnership in the shared decision.

Then, Andy's hands reached out, his fingers gently brushing against the small swaddled form. "May I?" he asked, his voice soft as if afraid to break the tranquility of the moment.

Cassie's heart clenched tight. A sudden urge to pull Daisy back to her chest washed over her. She'd carried this child, nurtured her within her own body, and now Andy thought to just take her away? Cassie's hands tightened instinctively around Daisy, a fierce protectiveness flaring within her.

"Careful," she said, more sharply than she intended. Her gaze locked onto Andy's, silently communicating the gravity of the trust she was placing in his hands.

"Of course," Andy replied, a glimmer of understanding crossing his features. He took Daisy with a gentleness that was surprising for his sturdy rancher's hands, cradling her as if she were the most precious calf he had ever ushered into the world.

Watching them together, Cassie felt a strange tug inside her, a connection to both Andy and the child that was theirs and yet so new. She didn't have to love fiercely, not yet. But perhaps, in time, she would learn to share.

"Here you go," Andy whispered, his voice carrying the weight of awe and reverence for the life they had created.

Andy's arms, once strong and steady, trembled ever so slightly as he returned Daisy to Cassie's waiting embrace. The baby nestled back into her mother's hold with a soft sigh that seemed to echo within the quiet room. At that moment, something shifted in Cassie's heart—a warmth, a swelling of emotion she couldn't put into words but felt with an intensity that took her breath away.

"Thank you," Cassie murmured, her eyes never leaving the tiny face peeking out from the blanket. This was love—the fierce, protective kind that came from deep within, unbidden and powerful. Holding Daisy felt more natural than anything Cassie had ever done. It was as if a missing piece of her soul had finally clicked into place.

Andy rubbed the back of his neck, watching them for a moment longer before clearing his throat. "I'll get you some milk," he said, his tone attempting nonchalance though his eyes betrayed the enormity of the moment.

"All right," Cassie replied softly, her attention still fixed on Daisy.

Left alone with her daughter, Cassie traced the delicate features that were a mix of her and Andy. She leaned down, whispering promises and dreams into the tiny, curved ear. "We're going to have such fun, you and I," she cooed. "I'll teach you how to stitch the finest seams and craft gowns fit for a princess."

As she spoke, visions of sunny afternoons spent by the window with Daisy, fabrics spread around them, filled her mind. They would work together, fingers dancing over cloth, creating beauty stitch by stitch—a future as bright and full of promise as the name they had chosen for this precious girl.

Cassie's heart swelled with every tiny breath the baby took. The room was quiet but for the soft sounds of life unfurling in her arms. She marveled at how such a small thing could rearrange her entire world. A chuckle escaped her as she realized that this tiny being and the man who had fetched her milk had become her everything.

"Can't picture it anymore," Cassie murmured to Daisy, "a day without you or your pa." She brushed a fingertip over the baby's downy cheek, feeling a smile tug at her lips. Andy was right about the name. Daisy was indeed their beautiful flower.

Andy returned, glass in hand, and offered it to Cassie with a tender look. "How are my girls doing?" he asked, his voice laced with the warmth of a hearth fire.

"Better now," Cassie replied, accepting the milk with her free hand. She drank deeply, feeling the cool liquid soothe her parched throat.

Andy leaned down, his gaze lingering on Daisy's peaceful face. "She's perfect, isn't she?" His fingers brushed lightly over the baby's blanket.

"More than perfect," Cassie agreed, reluctantly shifting Daisy into her left arm to finish her milk.

"Let me put her down for just a moment," Andy suggested gently. "You need to rest too."

With the utmost care, Andy lifted Daisy from Cassie's embrace and placed her in the cradle Gail had lovingly crafted. The sight of the sturdy little bed, with its smooth, sanded edges and the faint smell of pine, brought a sense of pride to Cassie's heart. Gail might not care much for children, but her love echoed in the cradle's craftsmanship.

As Andy settled Daisy into her new sleeping place, Cassie's arms felt suddenly cold and empty. The weight of her daughter had been a comforting presence, and without it, she felt adrift. She watched, a tightness forming in her chest as Daisy yawned and snuggled into the blankets.

"Looks like she'll grow up strong," Andy said, standing up straight and looking at Cassie with a reassuring smile.

The simple, domestic scene filled the room with an atmosphere of contentment and possibility. Despite the void in her arms, Cassie knew that this was only the beginning. Life had woven a new tapestry, vibrant and enduring, with threads of love and companionship that bound them all together. It was, she realized, exactly what she had always dreamed of—even if she hadn't known it until now.

Cassie's gaze lingered on Daisy, nestled amongst the quilts. The baby's tiny fingers curled and uncurled in her sleep, a gentle rhythm that tugged at Cassie's heartstrings. With each rise and fall of Daisy's chest, Cassie felt an invisible thread weaving tighter around her own heart.

"Can't sleep?" Andy whispered as he returned to her side, his eyes soft with understanding.

"Feels strange," Cassie murmured, not taking her eyes off Daisy. "Like I'm only half here without holding her."

"Give it time," Andy soothed, resting a hand on Cassie's shoulder. "She's right there, Cass. And she's perfect."

"Thanks to you," Cassie replied, a smile breaking through her unease. Her heart swelled at his touch, a reminder of their shared love embodied in the child before them.

"Thanks to us, you mean." Andy's voice was low and warm.

"Maybe...Maybe I could just hold her a little longer?" Cassie's voice was tentative, but her need was clear.

"Sure thing." Andy's agreement was swift and gentle as he carefully lifted Daisy from the cradle and placed her back into Cassie's waiting arms.

The moment Daisy's weight settled against her, Cassie's world realigned. The room was once again complete, filled with the quiet sounds of the night and the steady breathing of her daughter. She brushed a finger over the soft down of Daisy's hair, marveling at the miracle they had created.

"See? All's right," Andy said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile.

Cassie nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. This was love—the fierce, protective kind that consumed her doubts and filled her with purpose. Holding Daisy, feeling her warmth, sensing the rise and fall of her tiny breaths, Cassie knew she would do anything for this child. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.

"Forever, then," Cassie whispered to Daisy, her voice barely audible. "I'll hold you forever, my little love."

And in that moment, Cassie understood the true depth of love and companionship that had blossomed in her heart for her family.