“All right.” His hand pressed against her lower back, his palm a steady reminder that he was here for her. He didn’t ask a single question. And for that reason, she admitted the reason for her outburst.
“Kieran’s child grows within me,” she confessed.
Davin held very still, his face grim with shock. She waited for him to shout at her, to recoil in disgust.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I’ve been so stupid.”
“You’ll marry me,” he said. “At Lughnasa. And I’ll take care of you the way I always wanted to.”
It was on her tongue to refuse him, for she didn’t love him. Her love belonged to Kieran, even if he was far from here. Even if she could never hold his heart.
Instead, she heard herself say, “All right.”
The choice became an act of rebellion. A way of proving to herself that she would not be alone this time. Kieran might not want her to be part of his life, but another man did.
And though her conscience cried out that it was wrong to use Davin in this way, she told herself she didn’t care. This child would have a father.
When Davin embraced her, she didn’t pull away. She would learn to fall in love with him.
He deserved nothing less.
ThejourneytoLismanaghwas long enough on his own. With two children in tow, it took an eternity. Kieran stopped for the night, wishing it were possible to continue traveling in the dark. He wanted to reach Iseult as soon as possible. She’d waited so long to find her son, he didn’t want her to have to wait any longer.
In his visions, he pictured her happiness, and in it, he found his own peace. The unsettling question was what he should say to her. How could he convince her to come away with him? He didn’t want to watch another man take care of her or love her. And knowing that Davin was doing just that only heightened his need to travel faster.
He was running low on provisions but had not taken the time to stop and hunt. Instead, he split his food among the children. He’d gone hungry before; it meant nothing to him. At dawn he would replenish their travel stores and satisfy his hunger.
But it had not escaped Shannon’s notice.
“What are you eating?” she demanded, after she’d nearly finished her portion of bread.
He rubbed down the horse’s back, using a bit of dried grass since he had nothing else. When she repeated her question, he glared at her. “I eat little girls who ask too many questions.”
Shannon frowned right back at him. “That isn’t funny.” A moment later, she tore off a small piece of bread and pressed it into his palm. “I’ll share.”
The tiny scrap of bread was hardly more than a mouthful. He knew she hadn’t had enough to eat, from what little he’d provided. Her tiny offering humbled him. No one had ever tried to take care of him. No one, save Iseult.
A slight tug on his tunic caught his attention. Aidan reached up and handed him a soggy bite of his own bread. Then the boy trotted back to sit near the fire. Though the bread looked like the sorriest bit of food, Kieran couldn’t very well refuse it. Instead, he ate both pieces. And they filled him up in a way he hadn’t expected.
“You’re not very good at this, are you?” Shannon said, tossing a stick onto the fire he’d built. “Being a foster father, I mean.”
“I’m not your foster father. I’m taking Aidan to his mother. If you’re good, I’ll try to find you a nice family while we’re at Lismanagh.”
“I’m glad.” She nodded her head, accepting his word. “You aren’t good at taking care of children.”
Though she had spoken matter-of-factly, he took umbrage at the statement. True, he wasn’t very good at it. But he could protect them well enough. He almost voiced a protest but stopped himself.
Shannon was trying to provoke him. For what purpose, he didn’t know, but she really did remind him of his sisters. Not at all intimidated, she seemed ready to take advantage of him at every opportunity.
He hadn’t expected to like this wisp of a girl. But something about her insistence that he was a terrible guardian made him want to prove otherwise. It was likely her reason for being so contrary.
Aidan whined, rubbing his eyes.
“He needs to go to sleep,” Shannon informed him.
“Then he should just close his eyes.”
At that pronouncement, the boy’s whining turned into tears. “Want Rosaleen,” he sobbed.
