Eight months later...

The sounds beyond the door didn’t help Patrick’s resolve to remain out of the bedroom. His father met his gaze and Patrick saw the same tension mirrored.

Emma had gone into labor early that morning. It was close to dusk and, still, the baby had yet to appear. Several times, the midwife from town had peeked out and told them everything was fine, but it had been at least an hour since the last time she’d done so.

“Sit down, Son. You’re going to dig a trench in the floor.” His father placed a cup of coffee on the table. “These things take time. You can’t hurry nature.”

Patrick went to the table, but kept his gaze on the door. The cabin was too warm he decided and jumped to open the windows, only to find that they were already.

Opting for the front door, he pulled it open. In the distance, a wagon approached. It was Emma’s parents. Patrick had sent word to them early that morning.

No doubt, they expected to find a newborn in Emma’s arms, not to discover she was still in the throes of labor.

He went out to wait for them and took a deep breath of the fresher air. It was end of August. The weather remained warm, but not unpleasant.

The wagon had barely stopped and Mrs. Milligan urged her husband to hurry and help her down.

Patrick rushed to do so while his father-in-law rounded the wagon.

“How is she?” The woman hurried to the porch. “The baby?” she called out to him.

Patrick motioned to the doorway. “I haven’t heard in the last hour or so. The babe is not here yet.”

“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Milligan exclaimed and rushed past him and straight into the back bedroom.

Just then, a cry sounded and he hurried after her only to have the door slammed in his face. He took the doorknob, but stopped when hearing a child’s cry.

The room swayed and he grabbed for the wall. “Damn it,” he said and turned to look at his father-in-law who watched him with a wide grin. “I apologize, Preacher.”

“No need. Emotions run high at times like this. I’m sure I uttered worse each time Beatrice gave birth.”

Patrick wondered if he dared to put Emma through something like this again. Her moans and guttural cries had torn at his heart.

“Patrick?” His mother was at the door, her face alight with joy. “Come in and meet your sons.”

“Sons?”

“Yes. Twins.”

Patrick rushed into the room and almost gagged at the smell of blood and other odors he couldn’t place.

However, upon seeing Emma with two swaddled bundles in her arms, he couldn’t sense anything else but pride and joy.

Although she was pale and her hair was plastered to her sweaty brow, she seemed to have forgotten all the pain as her gaze went from the babes to him.

Keeping his eyes on his wife and sons, Patrick made his way to the bed and leaned over to kiss her brow. “How are you?”

“Tired,” she announced with a yawn. “Look at them. They are perfect.”

He peered at the tiny faces and could barely keep from bawling like a boy. “Yes, they are.”

The other women in the room moved to the bed. “I love you,” Patrick said as his mother-in-law and mother picked up the tiny bundles from Emma’s arms.

“I’ll make you some tea,” one of the women announced.

“Get some rest, Emma. We’ll watch after them,” his mother instructed. Both women went out to the front room with the babies.

The midwife scurried about cleaning up bloody rags and such. “I’ll open the window just a bit, but we can’t have cool air on her.” She went to the window, taking great pains to ensure it was only cracked.

After a moment, she returned to the bed and pulled the blankets up over Emma to her neck. “Remain covered for now.”

The no-nonsense woman picked up the soiled items and hurried from the room.

He lowered to the bed and pulled Emma into his arms. She placed her head onto his shoulder.

“Two. We have two babes to care for.” Her words slurred with weariness. “Whatever will we do?”

“We will raise them to be strong boys and good men,” he proclaimed.

After his tired wife fell asleep, he held her for a long while. Later, he went to the front room to see his sons. The doting grandmothers held the babes. When he neared, they looked to him as if he presented some sort of challenge.

He went to the one his mother held and pulled the blanket back to see a tiny face with eyes squeezed shut. The second child looked to be identical. He supposed it would be hard to tell the difference until they grew older. “They look a lot alike.”

“I think they’re identical,” his mother replied in a reverent tone. “They are beautiful.”

“Yes, they are,” Mrs. Milligan agreed. “I can’t wait to write Jane.”

* * *

Emma stood over the twins’ cribs studying their sleeping faces. They’d named them Donovan and Sullivan, after her father and Patrick’s grandfather.

Six weeks had passed, but Emma had been up and moving within days of giving birth. Her mother and mother-in-law would shoo her back to bed in the mornings and insist she sit idly most days.

Her mother took control of taking care of the twins. Patrick’s mother was always there cooking and helping with laundry.

All morning, she’d practiced what to say when the opportune time presented itself. Her mother lowered to a chair followed by Maureen, who placed a cup of tea at Emma’s elbow.

“It’s a nice, sweet, quiet time until they awaken,” her mother said.

“I can’t wait to hear those sweet sounds,” her mother-in-law replied.

“I think,” Emma started, “that it’s time for me to see after them. I appreciate everything you both are doing for Patrick and me. I really do.”

Both women stared at her with forgotten teacups midway to their mouths. Emma let out a breath. “Mother, I think it’s time for you to go home.” She looked to her mother-in-law. “I will cook from now on. We will come for supper on Wednesdays as usual. Of course, you are more than welcome to stop by, but don’t feel obligated to help around the house.”

Her mother recovered first. “I suppose I have been overbearing. It’s just that Jane hasn’t had children yet. The twins are my first grandchildren. We live too far and...” She stopped talking and lowered the teacup.

“It’s not that far Mother.” Emma smiled warmly at her. “Father can bring you often to visit.”

Maureen looked to her mother with pity. “You are welcome to stay at our house as long as you wish.”

“Papa has his parish to look after. Both of you have to be there for the people,” Emma reminded her gently. “I promise, you will see us often.”

Two days later, her mother was gone. When Patrick returned from work, he looked eagerly to the kitchen. There was nothing on the stove and Emma wondered what had possessed her to tell the grandmothers to leave. Handling two babes and a household was much harder than she expected.

By the third day, she was so glad to go to eat at her in-laws that she barely slowed when Patrick asked her what the hurry was. Emma looked over her shoulder. “Toast and soup were barely enough to sustain either one of us the last few days. I’m hungry.”

Patrick laughed. “I have to admit to eating here the last couple of days at midday because I am so hungry.”

Emma wanted to cry with happiness when Maureen opened the door. She rushed to her mother-in-law and hugged her. “I think I was too rash in telling you I could handle everything.”

With a look of satisfaction, her wonderful mother-in-law rounded her. “Get the food on the table. I will make sure the babes are settled into Patrick’s old crib.”

Dinner was delightful. Emma ate until she thought she would burst. Her father-in-law had dragged the crib into the kitchen so they could mind the babes as they ate.

“I have something for you,” Maureen told her with a smile. She held up a beautiful lace dress. “I wore this on my wedding day and want you to wear it for the baptism. “

It was hard to keep from touching it, so Emma reached for it and slid her fingers down the silky fabric. “Its beautiful.”

“My mother brought it from Ireland. It’s only fitting that since you didn’t get married in it, you wear it on the next wonderful occasion.”

Emma could only stare on the dress. “I will thank you.”

“How long until they have to nurse?” her mother-in-law asked.

“They nursed right before coming. I hope they won’t wake until almost morning.” Emma leaned to look at the slumbering babes. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Maureen stood and looked to Patrick. “Take your wife home and spend time with her. When they wake up early in the morning, I will bring them to you.”

It was comical the way Patrick didn’t have to be told twice. In minutes, Emma found herself back home.

He undressed immediately as she stared at him, wondering what he was doing.

“Take your clothes off, Emma.”

“Oh.” Emma laughed. “Very well.”

Emma ran her hands down Patrick’s bare chest. Straddling him, she leaned forward and kissed him. As terrified as she’d been to be intimate with Patrick, she’d been filled with want for days and unable to do anything about it.

Now he filled her completely. Emma moved her hips, each movement sending her closer to losing control.

“I missed this...us,” Patrick said, his hands cupping her full breasts. “You are so beautiful like this.” With half-closed eyes and lips curved, she noted how handsome he looked now that his hair had grown to touch his shoulders.

“Patrick?” She gasped when he lifted his hips while at the same time sliding his finger down her center. The action sent tendrils of heat down her legs. “I-I think...” Unable to stop it, her head fell back. His hands on her hips, Patrick pulled back and then thrust upward. “Ah...”

“What do you think?” He grunted, rolling her over and driving in and out of her in a continuous motion. He nuzzled her neck, just below her ear as he continued moving.

“That...oh...” She gasped and dug her nails into his buttocks. “Yes...”

The movements became frantic and Emma soared, her cries loud as a release hit so hard that her toes curled.

Still Patrick continued, his body moving out of pure instinct it seemed as his grunts of pleasure filled the room. Emma wasn’t sure she could take anymore. Lost between ecstasy and loss of control, once again she cried out as the room spiraled.

Patrick’s entire body quaked with his release and he finally lowered over her, slick with sweat and utterly spent.

Pulling her to his side, he waited for them to catch their breaths while pressing kisses to her face. “What were you saying?”

“About?” Emma’s mind was still fuzzy. “Oh yes. I remember now. I like your hair this length. It suits you.”

“Hmmm,” he said. “I will make sure I keep it this length then if it pleases you.”

Emboldened by sharing the intimate moment, she looked up to him. “There are so many things about you that please me.”

Patrick chuckled and rolled over her. “Let’s find out if I can please you more then.”

“Oh goodness.”

The End.