The woman who had written the letter had promised none of those. And had offered a great deal more.
Maybe I'll take her up on it, Shannon thought.
And maybe I won't.
Chapter Four
"I don't know why you're fussing so much," Maggie complained. "You'd think you were preparing for royalty."
"I want her to be comfortable." Brianna centered the vase of tulips on the dresser, changed her mind, and took it to the flute-edged table by the window. "She's coming all this way to meet us. I want her to feel at home."
"As far as I can see, you've cleaned the place from top to bottom twice, brought in enough flowers for five weddings, and baked so many cakes and tarts it would take an army to eat them all." As she spoke, Maggie walked over, twitching the lace curtain aside and staring out over the hills. "You're setting yourself up for a disappointment, Brie."
"And you're determined to get no pleasure out of her coming."
"Her letter accepting your invitation wasn't filled with excitement and pleasure, was it now?"
Brianna stopped fluffing bed pillows she'd already fluffed and studied her sister's rigid back. "She's the odd one out, Maggie. We've always had each other, and will still when she's gone again. Added to that she lost her mother not a month ago. I wouldn't have expected some flowery response. I'm happy enough she's decided to come at all."
"She told Rogan's man she didn't want anything to do with us."
"Ah, and you've never in your life said something you reconsidered later."
That brought a smile tugging at Maggie's lips. "Not that I can recall, at the moment." When she turned back, the smile remained. "How much time do we have before we pick her up at the airport?"
"A bit. I need to nurse Kayla first, and I want to change." She blew out a breath at Maggie's expression. "I'm not going to meet the sister I've not yet set eyes on in my apron and dusty pants."
"Well, I'm not changing." Maggie shrugged her shoulders inside the oversized cotton shirt she'd tucked into old jeans.
"Suit yourself," Brianna said lightly as she started out of the room. "But you might want to comb that rat's nest on your head."
Though Maggie curled her lip, she took a glance at herself in the mirror above the dresser. An apt description, she thought with some amusement as she noted her bright red curls were snarled and tousled.
"I've been working," she called out, quickening her pace to catch up with Brianna at the bottom of the steps. "My pipes don't care if my hair's tidy or not. It's not like I have to see people day and night like you do."
"And it's grateful those people are that you don't. Fix yourself a bit of a sandwich or something, Margaret Mary," she added as she breezed into the kitchen. "You're looking peaked."
"I am not." Grumbling but hungry, Maggie headed for the bread drawer. "I'm looking pregnant." Brianna froze in midstride. "What? Oh, Maggie." "And it's your fault if I am," Maggie muttered, brows knitted as she sliced through the fresh brown bread.
Laughing, Brianna swung over to give her sister a hard hug. "Well, now, that's an intriguing statement, and one I'm sure medical authorities worldwide would be interested in."
Maggie tilted her head, and there was humor in her eyes. "Who just had a baby, I ask you? And who had me holding that beautiful little girl barely minutes after she was born so that I went a bit crazy in the head?"
"You're not upset, really, that you might be having another baby?" Brianna stepped back, worrying her lip. "Rogan's pleased, isn't he?"
"I haven't told him yet. I'm a ways from being sure. But I feel it." Instinctively she pressed a hand to her stomach. "And no, I'm not upset, I'm only teasing you. I'm hoping." She gave Brianna a quick pat on the cheek and went back to her sandwich building. "I was queasy this morning."
"Oh." Tears sprang to Brianna's eyes. "That's wonderful."
With a grunt Maggie went to the refrigerator. "I'm just loony enough to agree with you. Don't say anything yet, even to Gray, until I'm sure of it."
"I won't-if you'll have that sandwich sitting down and drink some tea with it."
"Not a bad deal. Go on, feed my niece, change your clothes, or we'll be late to the airport picking up the queen."
Brianna started to snap back, drew a deep breath instead, and slipped through the door that adjoined her rooms with the kitchen.
Those rooms had been expanded since her marriage the year before. The second floor of the main house, and the converted attic, were for the guests who came and went in Blackthorn Cottage. But here, off the kitchen, was for family.
The little parlor and bedroom had been enough when it had only been Brianna. Now a second bedroom, a bright, sunwashed nursery had been added on, with its wide double windows facing the hills and overlooking the young flowering almond Murphy had planted for her on the day Kayla was born.
Above the crib, catching pretty glints of sunlight, was the mobile, the glass menagerie Maggie had made, with its unicorns and winged horses and mermaids. Beneath the dance, staring up at the lights and movements, the baby stirred.
"There's my love," Brianna murmured. And the rush still came, the flood of emotions and wonder. Her child. At last, her child. "Are you watching the lights, darling? So pretty they are, and so clever is your aunt Maggie."
She gathered Kayla up, drawing in the scent, absorbing the feel of baby. "You're going to meet another aunt today. Your aunt Shannon from America. Won't that be grand?"
With the baby curled in one arm, Brianna unbuttoned her blouse as she settled in the rocker. She glanced once at the ceiling, smiling, knowing Gray was above in his studio. Writing, she thought, of murder and mayhem.
"There you are," she cooed, thrilling as Kayla's mouth rooted, then suckled at her breast. "And when you're all fed and changed, you'll be good for your da while I'm gone, just a little while. You've grown so already. It's only a month, you know. A month today."
Gray watched them from the doorway, overwhelmed and humbled. No one could have told him, no one could have explained how it would feel to see his wife, his child. To have a wife and child. Kayla's fist rested on the curve of her mother's breast, ivory against ivory. The sun played gently on their hair, nearly identical shade for shade. They watched each other, linked in a way he could only imagine.
Then Brianna glanced up, smiled. "I thought you were working."
"I heard you on the intercom." He gestured to the small monitor. He'd insisted they put them throughout the house. He crossed to them, crouched beside the rocker. "My ladies are so beautiful."
With a light laugh Brianna leaned forward. "Kiss me, Grayson."
He did, lingering over it, then shifted to brush his lips over Kayla's head. "She's hungry."