“I have a more charming tongue than the both of you do.” Slatter laughed and handed tankards of ale to the two men. “Talk and drink will get you through the birth.”

Tarass took the tankard, turning his head to glance toward the stairs, while Slatter and Ruddock talked, his thoughts and heart with his wife. The memory of almost losing her when she had suffered the miscarriage still plagued him and there was that small stab of fear that he could lose her to childbirth. His worry would not end until this birthing ordeal was done.

“I can’t believe it. You’re so fortunate. Why couldn’t I be that fortunate and deliver my son so easily?” Sorrell complained, hugging her newly born nephew to her. “I labored for hours on end. I never thought the pain would end.”

Willow laughed. “You did not labor long compared to most.”

“But I struggled to get him out of me and she,” —Sorrell nodded to Snow sitting up in bed— “spits out this one, a good-sized bairn, with ease. I tell you it’s not fair.”

Snow stretched her arms out to Sorrell and she reluctantly surrendered her nephew to his mum. She hugged him to her chest, looking down with delight, so grateful to see his face that so resembled his da’s.

“He’s a handsome one,” Willow said.

“All the lads are,” Snow said and laughed softly. “Though, I wonder how three sisters with no knowledge of brothers or the like will raise three sons.”

“With lots of prayers and courage,” Sorrell said seriously, then burst out laughing. “If we can handle our husbands, we certainly can handle wee lads. Though, I don’t know about that husband of yours, Snow. He does like to dictate. It’s like he thinks he’s a King.”

Snow almost laughed at the truth to her words, but then realized the danger of the thought, and understood why her husband’s parents rushed him out of Scotland. But Tarass’s da had seen to it that no one had lived to tell the tale. Or had he? It was a question she knew would forever haunt her.

“You pale. Are you not feeling well?” Willow asked, concerned.

“I’ve just delivered a bairn,” Snow said with a smile, as if it explained all.

Sorrell pointed at Snow. “And color returns like magic to her cheeks. I was pale and tired for days after and here she is sitting up as if after a relaxing nap when she just spewed out a bairn.”

“The details of your son’s birth grows into a tall tale with each telling,” Willow said, grinning.