“Well, all right, it will be some work, but I’m glad to do it if it makes life easier for you.” Her sister did everything else at the stables; training and feeding the horses, showing them off to potential buyers, moving them to Dundúran, attending sales, and keeping correspondence with clients. It all sounded like a headache—but at least Sorcha loved it. And had a husband who loved her enough to keep her from running herself into theground.
“I appreciate it, Maeve, truly,” Sorcha declared, hand over her heart.
A new feeling expanded in Maeve’s chest, prompting her to say, “Afterwards, if there are any other documents you’d like me to look at, I’m happy to.” Putting her skills to some use for the family, skills she’d worked hard to earn, offered Maeve a deep, pleasing satisfaction. She didn’t love horses the way Sorcha did, avoided getting roped into stable work at all costs, but this at least she could do.
Coming back around to finish assembling luncheon, Maeve commented, “I didn’t realize you were also the one doing the bookkeeping. You do too much, Sorcha.”
“Mama and I trade off.” Sorcha shrugged.
“Well, I’m glad it gets you off your feet for a while at least.”
“It’s a compromise. I promised Orek I’d rest more often now that I’m with child.” She turned to Maeve, biting her lip around a giddy smile.
Maeve gasped, eyes dropping to Sorcha’s stomach. Her sister was a tall, muscular, curvaceous woman. There weren’t any signs that she might be—but then Sorcha’s hand fell to her middle as though—
“You’re—?”
“Yes,” Sorcha squealed. “I’m pregnant!”
Maeve’s shriek shook the rafters. Throwing her arms around Sorcha, she hugged her tightly before remembering not to squeeze. “Sorry, sorry! Oh, Sorcha, this iswonderful!You’re sure? Does Orek know?”
“He knows. But you’re the first one I’ve told,” she admitted.
Maeve’s mouth fell open, her excitement stilling.Shewas the first one Sorcha told?
More tears sprang to her eyes, and Sorcha chuckled, wiping at them. “Don’t you start again or else I will, too.”
“I can’t help it,” Maeve laugh-cried. “It’s just—it’s so wonderful, Sorcha.”
“It is.” Her sister’s smile was beautiful, the smile of a woman who already loved the little child growing inside her.
Taking Sorcha’s hands, Maeve squeezed tight. “I can’t wait to meet them. I hope they’re green.”
Sorcha erupted in peals of laughter, grabbing Maeve up in another hug. They laughed and cried and yelled together, the happiness too much to contain.
Maeve knew then that there was yet another something she wanted to do. Her list was growing, expanding before her and dizzying with its possibilities. As she stood there in the family kitchen, bouncing with joy with her sister, she had only excitement for what was to come.
She needed to see her first niece or nephew, of course, she’d never miss that. She wanted to see her first position and students through the end of the year. She wanted to secure a letter of introduction from Lady Aislinn to Mayor Doherty and inquire about positions in Dundúran’s Town Hall, exploring all its opportunities and possibilities. She wanted to ensure that Blaire and Kiri both secured the higher education they wished to pursue. She wanted to attend more festivals, this time with Soren, and dress them in matching colors so that everyone would be jealous of the sight they made. She wanted to fly with him, and stay up late with him, and decorate his cabin with him, and go on more nature walks with him and the students, and flirt with him, and and and—doeverythingwith him.
A future built of dreams was beautiful, but Maeve was more excited by how those dreams were taking shape. Her determination sharpened, honed—she would turn dreams into reality and possibilities into opportunities, not just for herself but for everyone she loved.
Maeve couldn’t say with certainty what her life would be,but what she did know was that it was better, richer for having Soren, her family, her students, and many others in it. She would succeed and help them succeed, too, whatever their dreams and ambitions might be.
And it would be an absolute honor to start with a certain lion-man, whose dream, unbelievably, amazingly, was to be with her.
Epilogue
Due to the importance of the occasion, Soren donned his best kilt—freshly oiled leather with braids and beads held in place by his biggest belt and shiniest buckle—despite the late-summer heat otherwise warranting a cooler, lighter linen kilt. He and his brothers had gone around just in those for the past few months, not even bothering with shirts unless the occasion called for it.
Meeting Maeve’s whole family called for it, however. And his best kilt.
“Won’t you be too warm?” Maeve asked from behind him.
She’d wanted to do something of an outfit reveal with each other, and so he was dutifully facing their bed and away from her, yet the question did give away the fact that, “You’re peeking.”
“Only alittle,” she said, and he could hear her pout. “Out of concern.”
A rueful grin touched Soren’s lips. She needn’t have worried; most of his clothing had been chosen by Maeve over the past few months. His mate enjoyed pretty clothes and matching colors,and when he consented to having her choose some pieces for him, she took to it with enthusiasm. He vividly remembered the downright maniacal look on her face as she purged his ratty old shirts and kilts.
