Epilogue
Six years later…
“Sorcha, didn’t yer ma tell ye on her way out of the door to stop deviling Grace?” The squabbling was not as loud as it had been before he’d separated the twins, Eileen and Emily. Flaherty shook his head and asked, “Can’t a man have peace in his household?”
“Of course he can, Da,” Anna replied. “Ma said she’d only be gone for an hour or two.”
“Two?” Flaherty raked his hands through his hair and silently wondered why the Lord had blessed him with daughters instead of sons.
Then, as if by magic, the room quieted as Anna Maeve wove her calm around her younger sisters.
Though but six summers, their eldest daughter was able to soothe hurt feelings and solve disagreements between her siblings.
“I’m proud of ye, Anna Maeve.”
“Are you proud of me too, Da?” Sorcha asked.
Grace pouted. “Me too, Da?”
“Us too!” Emily and Eileen said, patting him on the knee.
He picked up the two-year-old-twins and set one on each knee. “Faith, the Lord blessed yer ma and me with five of the finest daughters in the whole of England!”
“We’re hungry!” the twins said.
“I want tea!” Grace grumbled.
“Da, can we eat the scones yet?” Sorcha asked.
He kissed the twins and set them on their feet, and bent to brush a kiss to the top of Grace’s head, then Sorcha’s.
Anna was already setting the table for tea and reaching for the plate of scones.
Flaherty kissed his eldest daughter’s cheek.
“I’ll heat the water and pour it into the teapot to steep, if ye’ll start yer sisters washing their hands.
What were they playing in to get so grubby? ”
Sorcha wiped her dirty hands on her gown. “We were helping the Garahan boys.”
“Oh?” Flaherty asked as he checked the water level in the kettle. “And what were they doing?”
Grace bounced on her toes and threw her hands out to the sides in sheer delight. “Chasing chickens!”
Flaherty poured water over the tea leaves and waited for it to steep while the girls slowly made their way over to the table. He helped each of them onto their seats while Anna poured cream into a pitcher.
“Chickens!” Flaherty groaned. “Why can’t ye play with O’Malley’s girls?”
Sorcha and Grace exchanged a frown. “They don’t like to play outside in the dirt or chase chickens,” Sorcha answered.
“They’re learning to sew and spend all day inside. Why would we want to do that, Da?” Grace asked as Flaherty finished pouring their tea.
He slumped onto his chair and bowed his head. “I’m only yer da. Sure and I have no idea what goes on inside a woman’s mind. ’Tis a mystery to me.”
Anna patted his hand as she placed another scone on Sorcha’s plate. “That’s all right, Da. We love you anyway.”
Flaherty set his teacup down and looked at the tableau of beauty surrounding him. Five healthy, beautiful daughters with hoydenish tendencies, who, with their ma, were the loves of his life.
While the little ones chatted and sipped, he silently prayed, Thank ye, Lord, for the gift of me daughters. I’ll not be asking ye for sons. I’m hoping the babe due in a few months will be another daughter.
Six months later…
Pippa gave birth to twins—two lusty-lunged boys who were the image of their da.
As Flaherty stared down in wonder at the sons he had prayed for since he learned Pippa was expecting the first time, he thanked the Lord for blessing he and Pippa with five healthy daughters and two healthy sons. What more could a man ask for?
Ten months later…
Pippa gave birth to another son. This time, Flaherty sat down on the bed and lifted his wife’s hand to his lips. “Ye’ve given me another beautiful babe to love—another son.”
“You’ve always wanted sons, Dillon.”
He pressed his lips to hers. “We’ve a fine and beautiful family, lass. I’m thinking ye’ll have to stop seducing me into lying with ye, lass, when we both know—”
“That you love it when I do,” she interrupted him. “So shut yer gob and kiss me, Flaherty!”
He was laughing when their lips met, and she kissed him senseless.