Hunter caught sight of Maxwell and lifted a hand. “Braither.”
Maxwell’s posture tightened instinctively, then eased. He nodded once. “Hunter.”
Ariella adjusted the bairn and offered Hunter a smile that carried both teasing and affection. “Ye’re late.”
Hunter grinned. “I was making an entrance.”
Maxwell’s gaze narrowed. “This is a christening, nae a raid.”
Hunter laughed. “Give me a moment, and I can make it a raid.”
Ariella’s brows lifted. “Try it, and I’ll throw ye into the river.”
Hunter’s grin widened. “I missed ye too.”
He stepped closer, gaze dropping to the sleeping babe. Something softened in him. For all his bravado, Hunter looked at the child with a kind of awe, as if he still couldn’t believe this small life belonged to them.
“So this is him?” Hunter murmured.
Maxwell’s voice was quiet. “Aye.”
Hunter glanced up. “What did ye name him?”
Maxwell and Ariella exchanged a look.
Ariella answered first, voice gentle. “Eamon.”
Hunter repeated it slowly. “Eamon McNeill.”
Maxwell nodded. “Aye.”
Hunter’s gaze stayed on the bairn. “He’s healthy.”
“Aye,” Ariella said, and pride warmed her tone. “Strong lungs too. He made sure the whole keep knew he was here.”
Hunter chuckled. “That’s a McNeill.”
Maxwell grunted. “That’s his maither.”
Ariella’s smile turned triumphant. “Hear that, Hunter? He admits it.”
Hunter’s eyes gleamed. “He’s growing quickly.”
Maxwell gave his brother a flat look. “Watch yer mouth.”
Hunter held up both hands in surrender, still smiling. “Aye, aye.”
A moment passed, then Hunter’s posture shifted. The playful ease remained, but he cleared his throat as if he had something else to say.
Maxwell noticed at once. He had always noticed Hunter’s changes, even when he pretended he did not.
“What is it?” Maxwell asked.
Hunter’s grin faltered, then returned, a bit more careful. “I’ve met a lass.”
Ariella’s eyes lit instantly. “Ye’ve met a lass?”
Hunter’s mouth quirked. “Aye.”
