Chapter Fourteen
Finn surveyed the fourteen adults and six bairns crammed cheek and jowl around Aunt Lorna's dining table and decided that for future family dinners, he might have to use the Great Hall.
His dragon snorted. As if Lorna would tolerate using any kitchen but her own.
As Fraser elbowed him on one side by accident, and Arabella did the same on the other, he mentally sighed. She might not have a choice. I don't think even a double-decker dining table would be enough.
Then have Fraser design an extension to the house. I'm sure everyone will chip in to have it built.
Aunt Lorna finally entered, with Ross on her heels, and placed the roast on the table. "It's not an entire cow, so this will have to be enough. Which means, no wasting the meat."
Ross put a giant bowl of potatoes down next to the roast. "More than that, let's not give the bairns any ideas about using their food for anything but eating. Maybe the next generation will have some table manners."
Tristan muttered, "Maybe we shouldn't bring our children up here next time."
Arabella spoke up. "Do you want them flying off on their own or maybe tossing a few rolls? I think tossing food is the lesser evil of the two."
Fraser tossed a roll into the air and caught it. "Besides, there's a strategy to it. Even Faye knows that."
Faye snuggled into Grant's side. "Aye, you only toss what you're willing to lose. I'm surprised Mum hasn't learned that over the years. Because making less food would mean fewer fights."
Lorna put a hand on her hip. "I deduced that when you were barely out of nappies, Faye Cleopatra. But as Ara said, I'd much rather deal with a wee bit of trouble in my house than foolish expeditions across the English Channel, or some such nonsense."
Fergus chuckled, his arm around Gina at his side, his fingers lightly tracing shapes on her bicep. "We have a few of those adventures you don't know about, Mum. Maybe someday, we'll share them."
Gina bounced wee Jamie on her lap. "Besides, we may not have to worry about any extra food once all the boys are grown up. Declan and Grayson already eat twice as much as wee Jamie here. If Faye and Grant have twin boys, too, then they'll definitely be less food around to waste."
Faye raised her eyebrows. "Don't dismiss the lasses. I usually eat more than Fergus or Fraser. At the rate this family keeps growing, we're going to leave each meal hungry before too much longer, unless Mum takes up a collection for the grocery bills."
Lorna opened her mouth, but Chase McFarland—Grant's younger brother—grinned and beat her to it. "Then maybe we should plan in advance and bring extra things to use as ammunition. That way we can eat and have a little fun without wasting any of Aunt Lorna's delicious cooking."
Chase flashed a smile at Lorna and Finn glanced at Grant. They shared a look—Chase was nearly as bad a flirt as Gina's sister, Kaylee. Good thing they kept them on opposite sides of the table or Finn might start rolling his eyes nonstop at their continuous banter.
Grant and Chase's mother, Gillian, sighed. "Chase, we're guests in Lorna's house. Don't suggest bringing food to toss about."
Chase shrugged. "Oh, come on, Mum. You laugh along with everyone else, so there's no need for the pretenses of formality and manners."
Gillian opened her mouth, but one of Fraser's daughters started crying. Holly murmured to her mate, "Take Summer into the hall to calm her."
With a sigh, Fraser inched his chair back and managed to squeeze himself out of the chair, all with a tiny newborn in his arms. Once he was outside the room, Holly smiled. "I think our daughters are on my side. It should help with the madness, Lorna."
"Aye, well, we'll see about that." She looked at Ross. "Will you carve? I'm knackered and just want to eat and cuddle one of my grandbabies."
Ross picked up the knife and prongs, but turned them around and held them out to George MacLeod. "I think George should do it. I'm worn out from carrying twenty pounds of potatoes around all day."
All eyes turned toward George. For a second, the male didn't move or say anything. Then he tried to lift himself up, but with the crowded table, he couldn't manage it.
Finn was about to hand off the son in his lap and help him, but Gillian McFarland, sitting to one side of George, stood first.
She offered her arm. For a few beats, George did nothing. Then he finally took Gillian's help and managed to stand.
George murmured, "Thank you."
"Any time," Gillian said with a smile.
The pair stared at each other for a second, some understanding passing between them that Finn couldn't decode.
Then George leaned against the table for support, released his grip on Gillian's arm, and took the utensils from Ross.
As he carved up the roast, Arabella nudged Finn's side. He met her gaze. At the happiness and hope he saw there, his heart swelled.
Even though Freya's future may still be uncertain, as well as their boys’ or even George MacLeod’s, in that moment, Arabella was happy.
And to Finn, that was the most precious thing in the world. It also only made him want to work harder to keep her this way. He wasn't sure how he'd do it, but for the chance of her smiles and laughter, he would try his hardest. Arabella was a precious gift, and one he'd never take for granted.