She eased herself into a sitting position. “I’m going to be all right, Trahern. I believe that.”
He drew her into a tight embrace. “I love you, Morren. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” She raised her mouth to his, kissing him. “I love you, too. And I know you’ll take care of both of us.”
He kissed her as though he were afraid she’d shatter in his arms. Like she meant the world to him. And it was enough.
The seasons passed, winter turning into spring and then summer. As the seedlings began to rise from the fertile ground, so too, did Morren blossom. Trahern watched over her with a vigilance that never failed. Her rounded stomach grew with each month, and somehow, she held on to the babe she wanted so badly.
He hardly slept anymore, the worry building up inside of him. He’d sent for Aileen, Connor’s wife, who was the greatest healer he knew. If anyone could help Morren survive the birth, it was she.
“You look terrible,” Connor remarked, grimacing at the sight. “Has it been that bad, being chief of the Ó Reilly’s?”
“It’s easier than I thought it would be.” He’d accepted his new place without much thought. The Ó Reilly survivors and several of the DalrataLochlannachhad merged together, forming a new tribe that was a blend of traditions. “It’s like taking care of a large family, handling disputes and ensuring that everyone has what they need.”
“Like being a father,” Connor pointed out. “And I believe you’ll be a good one.”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead. For now, he merely wanted his wife to survive the birth. “How do you stand it?” he asked suddenly. “I think about Morren giving birth, and I’d cut off my arm to take the pain away from her.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Connor said, “there’s nothing in the world that makes me more tense than watching my wife in labor. You think of all the things that could happen to them. And somehow, when you hold your child in your arms, you forget about all else.” A soft smile crossed his brother’s face. “It’s like holding a piece of the love you share. You see yourself and her in the child’s face.”
There was no denying the emotion on Connor’s face. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll survive it, my brother. Only a few hours longer.”
“A few hours?” He stared hard at Connor, not knowing what he meant.
“Aye. Usually the first takes a bit longer, but—“
“She’s going to give birth today? Why in the hell didn’t anyone say anything to me?” He wanted to knock the knowing grin right off Connor’s face.
“Perhaps because you’d overreact? Didn’t you notice that Aileen hasn’t left Morren’s side today?”
“She was talking with her and grinding medicines,” he argued. “Neither of them said anything about the babe coming.”
He broke away from Connor, running towards the hut he shared with Morren. She was sitting up, her face tight as she breathed slowly.
“That’s it,” Aileen soothed.
When Morren opened her eyes, she sent him a slight smile. “Hello, Trahern.”
“Were you planning to tell me you were in labor,” he demanded, “or were you going to simply suffer in silence?”
“I wouldn’t say that the last pain was particularly silent,” she admitted. “But I didn’t want you to be afraid. It’s going well, actually.”
He glared at Aileen, who shrugged. “She’s right. I would say that the babe will be here by this evening.” She was interrupted when Morren closed her eyes again, her palms digging into the coverlet. Her breathing quickened, and he didn’t miss the pain upon her face.
“Connor,” Aileen said, “take Trahern away.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He moved to rub Morren’s shoulders, trying to offer comfort.
“Don’t touch me!” she snapped.
In spite of herself, Aileen laughed. “Don’t take it personally, Trahern, but when you’re about to give birth, the last thing you want is a man touching you.”
“I’m sorry,” Morren apologized. But a wave of pain passed over her, and she squeezed his hand so tightly, he thought she might crack his fingers in half.
“I won’t do this to you again,a mhuirnín,“ he promised. “You have my word, you’ll never have to suffer this pain anymore.”
When she opened her eyes again, she sent him a furious glare. “You haven’t shared my bed since the Feast of Christ the King. If I bear a healthy child, so help me, you will not withhold yourself from me again. You will share my bed whenever I want you to.”
