Epilogue
Eleven months later…
“Fenton, wake up.”
“Mmm… Five minutes—wait, what?” Flaherty sat up in bed, scrubbed his hands over his face, and noticed she was nursing their babe. “Why didn’t ye wake me?”
She traced the curve of one tiny strawberry-blonde eyebrow and then the other. “You looked tired, and I knew you needed your sleep.”
“I should have been up before ye,” he grumbled. “Now I’ll have to wait until our babe’s next feeding.”
“She’ll be eating again in two hours,” Eileen reminded him as she shifted their babe to rub her back.
“Aye.”
“Then why are you still frowning?”
“If ye must know, ’tis me job to rise before ye. How else can I see yer first smile of the day?”
His wife’s eyes welled with tears.
“Don’t be weeping, lass. Ye know it hurts to see ye sad. ’Tisn’t like ye.”
“Mollie and the midwife told me to expect my emotions to be unpredictable for at least a few months after our daughter was born.”
He scooted close, until he had the two most precious women in his life held tight in his arms. “Faith, I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Their daughter promptly belched like a sailor.
“There’s a lass. I knew ye had more than the coloring of a Flaherty in ye.”
“Heaven help us if she has more of your personality than mine.”
He grunted. “She’ll be lucky if she’s more Flaherty than Doonan.”
“Oh, will she?”
“Aye,” Flaherty said. “After all, we’re levelheaded and have common sense to spare—no daughter of mine will ever dive into the Celtic Sea to pull a man out of the water!”
Eileen didn’t rise to the bait. Her calm expression didn’t change at all when she softly murmured. “We’ll see.”
“Ah, lass. I should be seeing to yer comfort and yer rest. Forgive me for bringing up the future when we’ve years before I need to worry about history repeating itself. ’Tis me turn to hold Meggie.”
When Eileen handed the babe to him, Flaherty brushed the tips of his fingers across the top of their daughter’s head and sighed. “Faith, I’m a lucky man,” he said again.
“Flaherty?”
He turned to look at his wife. “Aye?”
“Your kisses comfort me.”
He frowned, before remembering that he’d just said he should be comforting her and letting her rest. “And here I thought they ignited the passion inside of ye.”
“They do, but at the moment I’m too exhausted for passion.”
“Lass, I’m sorry and still new to being a da. Forgive me?”
“On one condition.”
“Condition, is it?” He stared at the woman who held his heart in her hands. “I’m not certain I know how to give ye a kiss that won’t stir yer passion for me.”
She leaned against him and tapped a finger to the middle of her forehead. “It comforts me when you kiss me here.”
Cuddling Meggie to his heart, he bent and gently kissed his wife’s forehead.
Eileen watched him with sleepy eyes, then touched her chin. “And here.”
God, how he loved her! He kissed her chin.
“Here and here.” She touched the tip of her finger to one cheek and then the other.
He gamely brushed a featherlight kiss to each side of her face. “Anywhere else, lass?”
Her lashes fluttered as she placed a hand over his heart and rested her head on his chest. “My nose.”
He swallowed the laughter at her exhausted, but still bossy, tone. “Have I told ye how adorable yer nose is?”
“Mmmm.”
“Lass?”
She tucked her other hand beneath her cheek so both hands were resting over his heart, as if she were protecting it, and sighed.
“I’m thinking ye need one more comforting kiss.” Her breathing slowed, and he knew she was asleep. He kissed her lips, reverently. “I’ll love ye till me heart stops beating and beyond, lass… Forever.”