The Devastation (Unexpected Circumstances #7)(31)
I spotted my own children immediately.
In the field, eight-year-old Prince Branford led his new pony around—a gift from Sawyer—for the other children to see, while his young cousin Claire and brother Camden followed after him. Emma, who was the oldest of the group at nearly twelve years, refused to play with the youngsters—preferring to sit with Ida and Alexandra on the benches as they embroidered and spoke of the Sawyer’s hope for a son this time around.
“It is hard to believe with everything else that happened,” Ida said, “that you and Branford end up with three sons while Parnell and I have only daughters!”
“Branford says you are having a boy,” Alexandra said with a smile. “He has always been right about ours.”
“Humph!” Ida huffed. “He always says every baby is going to be a boy!”
“He’s never commented on yours before, though,” Alexandra said. “Perhaps he will be right again.”
Ida seemed to ponder this for a moment and was about to comment when she finally noticed me standing near their bench.
“Branny seems to be enjoying his gift,” I said with a smile. I had long since given up on discouraging the nickname of my eldest son and heir. When one cannot win, one might as well join. “Thank you again.”
“I have three ponies,” Emma pointed out before Ida hushed her.
“Do not speak out of turn.” Ida scolded the child.
“But it is only Uncle Branford,” Emma protested.
“He may be your uncle, but he is also your king. Do not forget that, and always treat him with respect.”
“She said nothing wrong, Ida,” I replied. I leaned over to kiss the forehead of my wife, quickly followed by the month-old baby up on her shoulder—our third son, Liam. I turned to my oldest niece and smiled. “I have seen your ponies. They are almost as fine as the war horses your family raises. Do you ever ride the larger horses?”
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, and the embroidery was quickly forgotten as she went into stories of riding, watching the colts in the spring, and feeding the mares pieces of apple from her hands. We all listened to her tales for a while until Ida informed her it was time to head back home.
Alexandra stood, handed Liam to me, and went to help Ida gather her sewing and the children’s toys into a basket, which fit neatly on top of Ida’s swollen belly. She groaned in protest and rubbed at her back for a moment.
“This one better be a boy,” she mumbled, “because there is no way I am going to do this again!”
Alexandra stifled a laugh. When she glanced up at me, I raised an eyebrow, silently reminding her how miserable she was just last season when Liam was due to be born. Before those last few weeks, I would have sworn my wife never complained about a single thing a day in her life.
Well, except maybe about her husband when he was being an ass. Thankfully that didn’t happen too often these days.
Parnell gathered up his daughters, and we bid my sister’s family goodbye. We would not see them again until after their next child was born since travel was becoming difficult for Ida. Once they were off down the road, Alexandra and I headed back inside to prepare for the night.
Sunniva was waiting for us when we entered, and she fussed over the babe for a few minutes before she tired herself out and had to hand him back to his mother. I worried for my adoptive mother and knew in my heart she had no more than a few seasons left in her. In some ways I was surprised she had lasted so long without Camden at her side. I wondered if I would be able to survive a decade without Alexandra and quickly determined that I would not.
Prince Branford and Prince Camden ran up to their grandmother and hugged her tightly before they were ushered off by Edith to their own bedrooms. Greysen was still out in the barracks with the new recruits and would train them well into the night, so Edith would have a while to get the children to sleep before her husband returned to her. The leader of my army had his work cut out for him even without the threat of war upon us.
While Edith tended to the older children, Alexandra and I took our newborn to our own room and laid him down in his basket near our bed. He was certainly the loudest of all our sons and had not yet learned that those around him needed their sleep on occasion. We had barely had more than a couple hours of sleep at a time since he was born.
Alexandra changed her clothing quickly and crawled into bed. I knew we would soon be able to come together again, but I wondered if she would have the energy if Liam did not begin to sleep longer. Perhaps if I was better about getting up when he woke, she would not be so tired.
After tossing enough logs on the fire to keep away the chill of the night, I slid under the blankets and pulled my wife close to me. Though I would always want more if given my choice, I was also content with holding her against me and running my hand through her hair. Just having her close to me and safe was all that I needed.
I kissed Alexandra’s temple and sighed. Maybe Father Tucker was right after all. Maybe I had paid for my sins, and now I did deserve what I had attained. I strived to be a man, in every sense of the word, who deserved a woman like Alexandra, and though I still made stupid, insensitive mistakes, they were much fewer and further between.
More importantly, they tended to only impact me, and even then, it usually came down to whether or not Alexandra was too angry with me to share my bed. That in itself was deterrent enough to change my behavior, and I was still quite upset to hear that my own sister had suggested such a “punishment” after I had backhanded one of the men for taking too long carving the stone benches for Alexandra’s Gathering Place.