“I’m sorry, Greylen. I’m so tired. I’m just so tired.”

Her body slackened again, and he quickly reached out to hold the babe against his wife’s chest. “Gwen? Gwen?”

Her eyes opened slowly, then she placed her hand on his cheek. “Shh, it’s okay, Greylen. Cut the cord,” she whispered. “You have to cut the cord now.”

Greylen followed his mother’s directions, then reached for the babe again. “I’ll wash him and bring him right back,” he told Gwen as she nodded and closed her eyes.

Isabelle helped him clean his son, his tiny fists smacking the air in anger. “Mother would’ve helped her, Greylen. She meant what she said.”

Greylen had no desire to speak of it anymore and, now, in the aftermath, he was glad Gwen had called for him. “Isabelle, I delivered my own son,” Greylen said softly, as if ’twas a secret he was sharing with her.

“Aye, and you did it very well too,” Isabelle said admiringly.

Greylen couldn’t keep his hands from his son and reached for him again. “Give me a minute,” Isabelle balked. “You’ll have him the entire night.”

Isabelle wrapped him in a blanket and rocked him in the crook of her arm. She passed him back into his impatient hands. “He’s so beautiful, Greylen.”

When Greylen turned again, his mother and Anna were just finishing with Gwen. The sheets had been changed and her body washed. She looked exhausted as she faced him, but she motioned with her hands for him to come back. He placed the babe upon her chest again and called for a much-needed bath.

“Let me take a quick wash, then I’ll come stay with you.”

She nodded and held her hands around their son’s back. He smiled before leaving her, hearing the soft mewing sounds his son made in his sleep.

Greylen sat in the tub within the bathing chamber, his head against the rim. He’d been so consumed with helping Gwen and listening to instructions, he’d merely followed orders. No questions, no hesitation. Now, however, the results of his actions were astounding. Not only was he present for the birth of his first child, he’d been the one to deliver him. He delivered his own son. He started laughing as the words repeated in his head. He’d delivered his own son.

He grabbed his robe, anxious to join his family on their bed. His family: Gwendolyn and their babe. He wanted to shout from the top of a mountain, his joy was so great.

He finally lay next to them, grateful to see the color back in Gwen’s face. “Are you comfortable, love?” he asked.