Series Epilogue #3
Eilidh’s old cot sat by the window. I’d put a temporary plastic hook on the ceiling and hung the canopy so it draped down the middle and over the sides of the cot. I filled the cot with Eilidh’s old toys and books and placed the armchair and side table we already had in the room by the baby’s bed.
Regan’s eyes flew to mine, her perfect lips parted in stupefaction. Her expression asked How?
“A pregnancy test fell out of the rubbish bag a few days ago,” I explained. “And I just overheard your conversation with Robyn.” Pulling her into me, she stumbled, her arms resting on my chest. “Never, ever, be afraid to tell me anything.”
Hearing the censure in my tone, she stiffened. “You can hardly blame me. After what you said about Vivien and Skye.”
I sighed. “A stupid remark I am deeply regretful of now. But how could you let that stand in your way of telling me you were pregnant?”
“Because!” She pushed at my chest, but I wouldn’t let her go.
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I don’t want to change what we have.
I want a baby really badly, but I don’t want to force you into this.
I don’t want Eilidh and Lewis to feel like I don’t love them because I want a baby.
” She cried sore, hard sobs that were completely uncharacteristic of her.
Pregnancy hormones.
Smiling tenderly, I hauled her close and let her cry against me as I smoothed my hand over her hair. “Aw, mo leannan, I could never feel forced into having a child with you. I’m over the moon that you’re pregnant.”
Her head snapped back, tears smearing her makeup. “Really?”
“Of course.” I clasped her face in my hands.
“Regan, when will you realize I am happy as long as you’re happy?
As long as the kids are happy. Speaking of, there is no way Eilidh and Lewis will feel abandoned.
We won’t let them. Eilidh will be ecstatic that she’s no longer the youngest.” Fuck.
We were going to have a child. “We’re having a baby. ” I grinned at her in realization.
Regan laughed through her tears. “We’re having a baby.”
I kissed her slow and languid, pouring everything I felt into it. Regan clung to me, pushing into the kiss, turning it fierce, hungry. Then she maneuvered me back to the bed.
“Afternoon delight time,” she whispered breathlessly against my mouth as she fumbled for my zipper.
Laughing against her lips, I let myself be pushed back onto the bed. I clasped her hand as she shoved inside my jeans. “Mo leannan,” I groaned. “As much as I hate to put a stop to this, we need to talk. I need to know what the doctor said.”
“I’m eight weeks pregnant,” she said hurriedly, and pushed her free hand inside my boxers instead.
“I have my first screening test and blood work next week, scan and another screening a few weeks after that. Otherwise, it’s all good.
I’m young, I’m healthy, Doc has no concerns, so now I would like to make love to my husband to celebrate the fact that we’re having a baby and you’re happy about it. That okay with you?”
I fucking growled as she tightened her hold on my cock, the blood rushing from my brain.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said smugly before kissing the life out of me.
A while later, after we’d celebrated our pregnancy news twice, I held Regan in my arms as we laid in bed and stared at the cot.
“You told Robyn first,” I said, a wee bit put out.
“I’m sorry.” Regan lifted her head off my chest, her hair tickling my skin.
“I … I don’t know why I got so freaked out.
I guess it’s everything. Changing our life, especially just as I’m about to open the preschool.
It’s a lot. I worried that we’d grown so comfortable that you would be disappointed.
That the kids would be disappointed. It was silly. I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t silly. I understand. But never be afraid to tell me anything, mo leannan. Anything.”
“I know. I won’t.”
“And I promise to push harder to find out what’s going on in that head of yours so I don’t have to resort to eavesdropping on your conversations like a creep.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t cool.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” She pressed a soft kiss to my lips, her fingers tickling across my beard, before she settled back against me. “I wonder if we’ll have a boy or a girl.”
The thought made me smile. “I hope he or she gets your dimples.”
“I hope they get your accent.”
Shaking with laughter at that, I replied, “It’s likely. Children develop their accent from their peers, not their parents.”
“I knew that.” She smiled. “I’m just rambling nonsense. Is it possible to have baby brain this early in the pregnancy? I mean, my hormones are all over the place, obviously.”
I glanced at the clock. “The kids will be home soon.”
“I know. But let’s just lie here as long as we can.”
In answer, I pulled her closer, and we fell into companionable silence.
Trailing my fingers over her shoulder, I imagined the future.
I imagined her growing belly, and then our child.
I imagined Eilidh acting like a wee mother over the baby and Lewis’s watchfulness, his quiet protectiveness, just as he was with his sister.
It filled me up.
This woman, our children, this life … it filled every part of me until there was no emptiness to be found.
“Happy here?” I asked Regan, as I often did.
She smoothed her left hand over my stomach, her fingertips tickling me, her engagement ring and wedding band glinting in the afternoon light. And she gave me the words I loved to hear. “I’m happy wherever I am, as long as I’m there with you.”
ARROCHAR
An hour commute to work never used to bother me.
It was part of the business of being a forest engineer.
But the drive to the forest near Loch Garve in Strathpeffer meant I was an hour there and an hour back.
Two hours of my day on top of my working hours I wasn’t spending with my husband and daughter.
Thankfully, the days of logistical planning were over. Everything was almost implemented, and harvesting would begin soon. My next job was a bit closer to home. Still, I missed Mackennon and Skye in a way I had never imagined before I became a mum.
After little discussion, Mackennon had insisted I return to work after maternity leave and he take a hiatus from his job as head of security at Ardnoch to be a full-time dad.
He’d saved a lot of money during his career that would allow us to manage financially.
It was a relief because my job was a bit trickier to find my way back to if I took more time off.
As it was, Marcello, my project manager, had left the industry to teach.
Marcello and I had gotten along so well.
It was disappointing then to return from maternity leave to a new project manager, Scott, who subtly undermined me at every turn.
I pushed through; I stood my ground, and I did my job.
I just wished Scott would make my life a bit easier.
It was hard enough being away from Skye, knowing she and Mackennon were off on their adventures for the day without me.
When she was in a grumbly mood, Skye wanted her dad. Always. Part of me couldn’t blame her because when I was in a grumbly mood, Mackennon’s arms were the best place ever. Yet it hurt so much when she lifted her little arms and cried for Daddy instead of Mummy.
It was a dry morning, the timber harvest was underway, and I was standing by in case adjustments were required for our temporary bridge we’d built to get the harvester over a small stream. Scott was up front, watching everyone like a hawk.
Then, suddenly, I saw a familiar Range Rover pull in next to my Defender in our makeshift car park. My heart jumped at the sight of Mackennon behind the wheel. He hopped out, flashing me a smile before he opened the back passenger door. I hurried over, grinning from ear to ear.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mummy!” Skye cried from inside her car seat as Mackennon hurried to unbuckle her.
“Hullo, my sweet, gorgeous baby girl,” I cooed back, heart melting at the sight of her big smile.
“Mummy, Mummy, Mummy!”
I heard Mackennon chuckle. “Give me a second, sweet pea.”
He lifted her out of the seat and into his arms as he straightened beside the car.
She reached for me, and the worries I’d been harboring about leaving her so much lifted for a second as I took her and covered her face in kisses.
Her giggles filled me with so much emotion, I laughed to release it.
Then I raised my face for Mackennon’s lips as he bent to take a much longer kiss than I’d anticipated.
I sighed into him, and he brushed his thumb over my mouth as we parted.
“What are you doing here?” I turned to Skye. “Eh, Skye Pie? You’ve come a long way to see Mummy.”
“Aye,” she agreed, and I chuckled. “Mummy away.”
My smile fell a little. “Mummy’s here, Skye Pie.”
“We just thought we’d come see you. I hope that’s okay.” Mackennon caressed my cheek. “You seemed a bit down this morning.”
I leaned into my husband in gratitude. “It’s lovely to see you.”
“Arrochar!”
I tensed at the sound of Scott’s voice, and Mackennon’s eyes narrowed at my reaction. There might have been a slight chance I hadn’t told him about Scott being a shitty project manager, mostly because my husband was overprotective and I didn’t want him worrying.
Turning with Skye in my arms chattering to me in baby talk that made little sense yet, I watched warily as Scott marched toward us. His eyes drifted over my husband and daughter, and he let out an exasperated sigh as he drew to a stop. “What the hell is this?”
Mackennon grunted behind me, which signaled he was not amused by Scott’s tone.
“If you could watch your language in front of my daughter, that would be great,” I told Scott tonelessly.
“Your daughter?”
“Skye. And this is my husband, Mackennon. Mackennon, this is my project manager, Scott.”
Stepping forward, Mac held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”