“Relax,” Niamh instructed gently. “Just relax.” She watched as Alva sank into a softer position on the cot, her hands unclenching as she took a deep, shaking breath.
“I’m trying.”
“You’re doing great.” Niamh placed her hands on Alva’s abdomen, putting light pressure on the area between her belly button and hips. She didn’t expect to find anything. Typically the belly only started changing shape to the touch after three turnings of the moon. When she felt a slight swelling between Alva’s hips, she squeaked in happy surprise, falling back to sit on her knees.
Alva’s face glowed bright as she shot up. “What? What did you feel? Niamh, please, tell me.”
“It’s stillveryearly,” Niamh began carefully, “but I do think you’re carrying. Is it possible you bled closer to three moons ago instead of two?”
Alva thought for a moment. “I suppose it could’ve been. I admit I haven’t kept as good a count after you told me to cease my fretting.”
Niamh beamed at her dear friend. “I’m glad you took my advice.”
“So am I,” Alva giggled. “It seems to have worked.”
Though she knew she’d never be so lucky as Alva, sheknewshe could never conceive, something in the world felt right in that moment. More than any other woman she’d helped, Niamh felt a deep connection to Alva’s plight. She had felt her pain as her own, her worry, her anguish. And now, she felt her joy as though she had fixed herself and not another.
“What do I do now?” Alva asked, her smile beautifully contagious. In all her years of mending people, she’d seen many happy faces. Yet none compared with those of a woman just told she would be a mother.
Niamh swallowed back the sting of knowing she’d never be one of them, focusing instead on Alva’s hard-won victory.
“I have a whole list that we can go through, but you have only one thing to do the rest of the day. You need to go tell your fool of a husband that he no longer needs that other woman.”
She watched Alva bound off to do just that, her chest swelling with hope for her friend. And joy for herself. She could hardly believe how well things had worked out with Dallan. She struggled to wrap her mind around the fact that she would be marrying him at last, with no secrets and no expectations. She’d taken the gamble, she’d told him everything, and she had won the love she’d always wanted.
Between all the day’s meetings and her rush to check Alva, Niamh had missed both the noon meal and dinner. And she knew Dallan and Diarmid had as well. Instead of taking the small supper she’d normally have before retiring for the night, she went to the kitchen and begged three plates of leftovers from dinner. She could hardly manage the walk to Brona’s chambers, where she knew the two warriors stood guard, between balancing the three platters and fighting the urge to fall face-first into the mouthwatering scents of honey bread and herbed salmon.
She had one more corner to turn in the corridor when she caught a snippet of their conversation. An alarming snippet.
“So Finn was right about Niamh?” she heard Diarmid ask, nearly causing her to drop the platters.
“Aye,” Dallan replied, his tone clipped as though the topic brought him discomfort.
“He’s always been good at concocting plans. At least now you know why she left. Still, I don’t think I could’ve done it,” Diarmid responded, “ignoring my anger like that.”
“It was hard at first,” Dallan’s reply hit her like a punch in the gut. “But Finn was right. Kindness will always get you further than anger, no matter how deserved. And we always had a strong connection.”
She should leave. She shouldn’t have listened in the first place. Lord, she wished she could un-hear it. But her feet were frozen in place, her heart shattering as they continued.
“I have a strong connection with many women.” Diarmid’s tone made it perfectly clear what sort of connection he meant. “I highly recommend it. It certainly helps me avoid problems such as yours. Now you’re stuck with one woman.Forever.”
Dallan laughed.Laughed. “It’s not a problem. Not anymore.”
She took several steps backward, somehow managing to keep hold of the platters as she turned and tiptoed back the way she’d come. What did he mean by that?
Was the problem her inability to have children? Was it that she’d kept it a secret? She thought they were finally past all that. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as her mind raced to understand what she’d just overheard.
He’d assured her it didn’t bother him, but maybe it was all part of this plan of Finn’s that they’d mentioned. Was he only pretending to forgive her to learn her secret? Maybe he wasn’t alright with it after all, and he’d only said he was because he’d been hiding how he really felt this entire time. Her father haddone it expertly for years. She’d believed that he loved her and her mother right up until the day he left.
Now you’re stuck with one woman.Diarmid’s taunt usurped her thoughts.
It’s not a problem. Dallan’s easy reply.
Niamh swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Dallan had said he’d never leave her—though at this point she wasn’t certain she ought to take him at his word—but he’d said nothing about not taking another wife. Did he plan to keep Niamh for fun and some other woman for heirs?
She didn’t know what all this plan of Finn’s entailed, other than playing her for the fool and planting more secrets at the foundation of their relationship, but it was clear that whatever he’d said, Dallan was not being forthright about his feelings.
A hole opened in the center of her chest, one that had been lurking in the shadows ever since Dallan came back into her life. Of course it was too good to be true.
