Chapter 26 #2
It was…pleasant to get to talk to her sister like this, trading laughs and jokes. Despite editing her story, Maeve found Sorcha eager to compare various aspects of orc and manticore…anatomy, as well as the different ways they seemed to experience the mate-bond.
“It’s interesting they both call their inner instinct a beast,” mused Sorcha over a sip of tea.
“Except Soren’s actually is.” Maeve relished detailing Soren’s turuk for her sister, describing the majestic beast from ear tuft to tail tuft.
“Honestly, it seems fitting that Soren’s inner beast is bold,” Sorcha said.
Maeve nodded vigorously in agreement. “He’s got a confident, flirtatious beast inside him just waiting to be free.”
“Well, then, he’s found just the right person to bring it out of him.”
Maeve wiggled and blushed with pride. She thought so, too.
Soon enough, it was time for luncheon, and Maeve surprised herself by offering to help prepare something for the both of them. She still wanted a bath and to hurry back to Soren, but this time with Sorcha felt precious, not to be rushed.
As they stood side by side cutting up cheese, bread, and apples, Maeve nodded at the ledger Sorcha had been poring over when she first came home.
“That looks intimidating.”
Sorcha made a rude noise. “Bookkeeping is my least favorite thing about the business.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, Maeve stepped around the table to flip through the pages. A scoff of horror left her lips the further she paged through the cramped lines and messy numbers.
“This is a nightmare.”
“I know,” Sorcha groaned. “Mama’s bookkeeping is…particular.”
That was a generous way of putting it. Maeve could recognize the system’s foundations as an older method of bookkeeping, one popular about fifty years ago that’d been passed around through the guilds.
However, there had since been at least two more efficient methods developed by the guilds, both of which could be applied to a business such as the Brádaigh stables.
She told Sorcha as much, adding, “I don’t know where mama learned this, but there’s a better, much more humane way.”
“I think it’s just how grandmother did her books.”
That would explain it. Their Grandmother Brádaigh, Aoife and Sofie’s mother, was a battleaxe of a woman, one who brooked no nonsense nor argument. That Sofie had struck out on her own in defiance of her formidable mother still awed Maeve.
“The new system would make much more sense for this kind of business. I could find the new style of ledger in Granach next time I’m there, or send for one in Dundúran if needed.”
“Grandmother might haunt us if we do,” said Sorcha with a shudder.
“I think we have to risk it,” Maeve argued. “This is atrocious.” Flipping to another page, she couldn’t help her noise of disgust. “You poor thing. This is just a cruel way to do it.”
“Do you think you could…?”
Maeve glanced up to see Sorcha’s hopeful look. Nodding, she decided, “Yes, I can update the books. Give me a fortnight or two once I get the new ledger. I can teach it to you, it’s a fairly simple system.”
Sorcha moaned in relief. “Oh, Maeve, that would be such a help. Thank you.”
Biting back her smile, Maeve waved her hand. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Look at that thing.”
“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 the ground.
“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 is wonderful! 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. She was 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—do everything with 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.