Liam MacEgan kept coming to ask her questions, and Connor’s twin boys followed their cousin everywhere. The noise and bustle of the large family was infectious, and by the end of the meal, Morren found herself holding Genevieve’s baby daughter Alanna.
The baby’s blue-gray eyes were serious, her tiny mouth pursed up like a rosebud. She was perhaps three months old, and when Morren lifted the babe to her shoulder, Alanna opened her mouth and began rooting against her neck.
It was bittersweet to feel the warm baby skin against her own. If she hadn’t lost her child, she’d have a rounded bump now. Perhaps she’d even have felt a kick or two.
“I haven’t anything to feed you, little one,” she apologized.
“She’s just been fed,” Genevieve offered. “She’ll be fine.”
A moment later, Alanna stuffed a tiny fist into her mouth and began suckling it. Her downy head pressed against Morren, and within moments, she was asleep.
“Do you want me to take her?” a voice asked. Turning, she saw Aileen. The healer’s tone was gentle, knowing how difficult it was.
But Morren couldn’t bring herself to let the child go. “Not yet.” She cupped the baby’s head, smoothing the soft hair on Alanna’s scalp.
Trahern sent her a smile, and there was a softness beneath it. He looked all the world like a man who was meant to be a father. Though he was older than many of his brothers, there was a yearning in his face.
A part of her ached, knowing that another woman would have to give him that. For it wouldn’t be her. Shakily, Morren offered the baby back to Genevieve. She picked at her food, finding it hard to concentrate.
Beside her, Trahern’s leg pressed against her own. Hard and muscled, she remembered the touch of his body. But instead of frightening her, she was drawn to him.
If you’re wanting more than friendship, you’ve only to reach out to him.Aileen’s words resonated in her mind, making her wonder.
Several of the men rose, after their meal. She spied Connor and Bevan talking together, before Trahern leaned in. “We’re going to Gall Tír.”
“When?”
“Now.” His expression darkened, and she felt the urge to shiver.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Though she knew it was necessary, a coldness slipped down her body, flooding her veins.
“Not this time. We’re going under the guise of a visit. If you go with us, it may alert the raiders.”
“Be safe,” she said, gripping his hand. A prayer came to her lips, for he and the other men to return unharmed.
His hand squeezed her fingers. “I’ll come back tonight.”
Morren didn’t miss Isabel and Aileen’s knowing looks, but she said nothing. She didn’t want to think about what was happening between herself and Trahern. Something had shifted, somehow. Now that he was among his family, his anger was softening. Moment by moment, he was starting to return to the man she’d known.
It unsettled her. As long as his focus was upon avenging Ciara’s death, he hadn’t looked upon her with anything but friendship. But more and more, she felt intertwined with Trahern, bound to him in a way she didn’t understand.
He started to walk toward his brothers but stopped suddenly. She waited to see what it was he wanted. Before she could take another breath, he pulled her close and kissed her hard.
“Until tonight,a mhuirnín.”
Overtherestofthe afternoon, Morren joined Isabel, Genevieve, and Aileen in helping the children to make their masks for Samhain. The activity brought back moments of her own childhood when she and Jilleen had labored over their own masks.
Made of wood bark and pitch, the fragile masks wouldn’t last more than a single night or two. Liam was seated away from his cousins with his completed mask drying upon the table. He labored over a turnip, scraping out the insides.
“It will be a lantern,” he promised. “And Cavan and I will try to catch one of thesídheon All Hallow’s Eve.“ He beamed at the thought. “Maybe we’ll find one of the dead.”
“You’re the one who will be a dead man if you and Cavan leave this ringfort after dark,” the queen warned.
Though Liam sent a contrite look to his mother, Morren didn’t miss his impish wink. After he’d finished hollowing out the turnip for his lantern, Liam brought her a piece of birch to decorate as a mask.
“I have one made of silver that you may borrow,” Queen Isabel offered. “After the feast, we’ll have dancing, games, and perhaps we can convince Trahern to tell stories.”
“He might,” Morren said. Studying the fragile birch, she reassured Liam, “I think this mask will do nicely. I won’t need another.”
