Page 115 of Native Hawk
Epilogue
On the second floor of the Parker house, in Claire’s old bedroom, Catalina slowed the pedal on the treadle sewing machine, snipped the ends of the thread, and pulled out the tiny nightdress.
She held it up to the late summer light streaming in through the open window. Little yellow blossoms dotted the soft white cotton, and she planned to make a matching yellow nightcap.
She rubbed the slight curve of her abdomen. It was hard to believe that in another five months she was going to have a baby that would fit into this nightdress.
“It’s a mite small for me, darlin’!” Drew called up from the yard below.
She grinned and waved from the windowsill. She never got tired of Drew’s humor or his dashing good looks. Even as he was now—covered in dust, his jeans frayed, and his hair falling over his forehead—he could make her heart race with a wink of his dark, sparkling eyes.
“When will you be finished?” she called back.
“Soon,” he promised.
Making sure none of the ranch hands were watching, Catalina blew him a sultry kiss.
“Very soon,” he amended.
She smiled, waggled her fingers in farewell, and folded the little nightdress.
Things had certainly turned out differently than anyone expected. As Drew liked to say, it was a good thing he hadn’t wagered on his future, because taking over the Parker Ranch had never been in his plans.
But the previous ranch manager Frank had been hanged. And Chase and Claire had decided to return to Hupa. So Samuel Parker was left without a man to run his ranch.
Drew was perfect for the job. He was clever, good with numbers, a fast learner, a hard worker, and handy with a gun.
He hadn’t completely given up poker. He still played the occasional game with Sheriff Campbell. By some miracle, the sheriffhadwon back the heart of his Maggie Ellen. She’d forgiven him for his reckless gambling. She’d even promised to stay with him on the condition that he only played against Mr. Hawk, since, for some strange reason, he always seemed to win when he played against Mr. Hawk.
Catalina smiled as she tucked the nightdress into her sewing basket, atop the three other gowns she’d already made.
Of course, now, with so much to learn about the ranch and a baby on the way, Drew was up before dawn most mornings, working long into the night.
That was fine with Catalina. She was just as busy.
She’d had to limit her sewing to daytime, since Drew had complained her sewing machine sounded like a locomotive running through the bedroom.
So in the evenings, she designed. She scoured her weekly delivery ofLa Mode Illustréefrom France for pictures of the latest fashions. But she also questioned Drew about the traditional clothing of his people. She began to create new ensembles inspired by a unique combination of the latest European trends—ruffles, bustles, pleats, and lace—and Hupa tradition—shells, feathers, doeskin, and fringe.
Ever since the women of Paradise had glimpsed the lovely creations at her wedding, she’d been swamped with dress orders. It was flattering. But she didn’t know how she was going to keep up with them, especially once she had her child.
As she was daydreaming, she heard Drew outside again.
“Cat!”
When she moved to the window, she saw the mail wagon pulling out of the drive. Drew had a package in his arms.
“I think this is for you.” He studied the box, frowning at the name. “It’s from someplace called…Ferra-”
“Ferrara?” Her heart raced. Her father had answered her. “I’ll be right down.”
“No need. I’ll bring it up. I’ll just be a—”
“Hurry!”
He chuckled.
She whipped away from the window and began pacing back and forth across the room. What was it? What had her father sent?
