“Not all kids, that’s Mags’s kid.”
“Yeah, he sure is.” I looked down at Isla in my arms. “He’s going to be a hero someday, or maybe not, times change. He saves my life by being my son, but then again, I saved his life too.”
“You’re a million times better mom than the one God gave him. You totally should be here in this room, but let’s bring this back to me and my sorry arse: I should be up on the walls with Fraoch.”
“Really? Up on the walls? Let’s think this through Hayley — up on the walls with the Campbell men? What would you be doing up there?”
“I don’t know, helping him hold his gun. I do like to hold his gun.”
I laughed, “Is that a euphemism for a hand job, Hayley? Are you thinking you’ll be up on the walls giving your husband a hand job?”
“I might, you don’t know. I think I would be mostly looking out through my gun’s night vision scope, like a bad ass, possibly sniper-shooting bad guys — don’t laugh, I’ve played Fortnite.”
I did laugh, and she laughed too. Then I said, “I know this is really hard on you. You’re still newlyweds and you’re not getting any downtime. I’ve been around you and Fraoch, I see him, I see you with him — this is just an emergency. He doesn’t want you down here in the nursery either, he wants you with him. He’ll liberate you as soon as he can.”
“You think so? I mean, he does really like me, I do know that.”
“He does, he really does. And not just your top layers, he likes your deep down stuff too. The stuff you keep hidden, except from me.”
“The only reason you know it’s there is because you were around when all that stuff was going down.”
“True, we’ve been together a long long time.” Then to turn the conversation lighter I grinned. “He likes you even more than I do though, he likes the deep deep inside place that he can only get with the ol’pokey-whatnot.”
“He does like that place, a lot.”
I yawned, “Speaking of ol’pokeys, what time is it? Why aren’t they back?”
“I don’t know.”
We waited and waited some more, then truly exhausted, we lay down on the rug. I curled on my side, Isla in my arms, Archie slept sprawled across my legs.
Deep in the night, Magnus came for us.
He picked up the sleeping Archie, helped me to my feet, and led me shuffling sleepily through the hallway to the stairs then down the incredibly long hallway to our rooms. I leaned against the door while he unlocked it. “What time is it?” I mumbled.
“Tis verra late,” he whispered as we pressed into the room.
At some point during the day a small bed and a cradle had been moved into the room. Awesome. I pushed the cradle beside the bed. Magnus placed Archie in the middle of the small bed without waking him. Then Magnus sat on the edge of our bed, and groaned while taking his shoes off yet again.
“It’s been exhausting.”
“Aye. And we canna go home.” His shoes dropped to the ground and he sat, hands on his knees, shaking his head.
“Yeah, well at least we are together.” I pulled Isla from my wrap and placed her down in the wooden cradle. “I’m very happy about this, we did not have a big enough bed.”
Magnus climbed under the covers and pulled them to his chin. “Aye.”
I unwrapped my plaid and dropped my skirt, so I was only wearing my shift and by the time I got under the covers Magnus was already asleep.
Eleven - Kaitlyn
I needed to pee like crazy. I turned the lantern to dim, crept off the bed and felt my way across the dark room to the chamber pot. It was now behind a screen, but the urine stream echoed around the room threatening to wake up everyone. I wiggled dry and allowed my shift to drop and crept back, with a yawn, twisting my hair into a messy bun.
My husband’s voice came through the darkness, a whispered question, “Can ye slow there?”
I stopped still and whispered, “What, like this?” I twisted my hair and wrapped the elastic around it.
“Aye,” he didn’t seem to want to say anything else. I could barely make him out — a glimmer of light at his eyes, the shadow of his arm behind his head.
I dropped my arms. “You can see me?”
“Aye, there is enough light.” He stopped speaking but then added, “Your comin’ tae m’bed is a form of grace.”
“Is it?” I drew closer.
“Aye, I hae been prayin’ tae God and m’heart has been full of worry and now I hae awoken tae see ye moving through the night comin’ tae me, carryin’ the grace I needed.”
“Oh,” I said simply. I pulled up the covers and climbed in, crawling across to lie on him. I nestled into his neck and said, “Oh,” again.
It was overwhelming, the closeness after so long, his want for me, his skin against my lips, my whole body pressed on his. The darkness, the scent of him — the night was cool, the fire no more than embers on the hearth, a bit of smoke. I lay there with my full weight on him, the luxury of it. My favorite bed, his chest, the heat of him, the steady beat of him under my skin. He bunched up my shift and moaned low and deep.
“Shhhh....” I said, don’t wake the bairn.
His hands moved my arse into position and pulled me down on him, holding me, pressing into me, anchoring me to him. I pressed my lips to his to stop my sounds. That feeling, to have him inside me after so long, after giving birth, after feeling like that whole area was compromised and weird and put-upon by a baby barreling through it, was so intense. I had chosen not to worry or think about it at all because my thoughts had been on baby and mothering a baby, but now Magnus was pushing inside, joining me.
I held his head, my fingers in his hair, and held on as we pulled and pressed against each other, quiet and barely moving, a breadth away in every place. Sometimes we were light and bouncing and athletic, but this time was heavy, compressing. It had been so long — I had meant this first time again to be an epic lovemaking full of long plans and lingering, but instead there was this — he had told me I was grace and had sounded reverent on it all and now I was on him, a breath and a moan escaping my lips.
Pulling and pressing and pushing, we were prostrate, bound, pressing our lips together, a promise to keep quiet... don’t wake the bairn... enveloped in darkness. All fear left us, just this, us, in the wee moments of darkness before dawn.
Sweat on my brow I rubbed it along his beard, those sensations, wet, slick, beside his soft lips, with rough and hard, oh god. I moaned before I remembered, shhhhhhhh, be quiet be quiet, oh god, the words held just inside my lips and it soothed me, kept my moans from tumbling out. Shhhhhhhhhhh, not a shush but compressed and kept inside pent up. Sweetness oh sweetness, I pressed my lips to his cheek and held them there — licking, tasting, while my shhhhhhhhhh, went on and on. Until he finished, his hips thrusting, his breath quickening. My breath caught and we silently roared to the end. I collapsed heavy on him.
Gone from solid to liquid, spreading across him and filling each other’s grooves and valleys, our lips gone from pressing to sliding, gravity pulling us both, all down. Deep and so fucking down in love.