“I’d thought of papering, but I decided paint’s better. Something sunny and simple. Then we can hang prints. Fairy-tale prints.”
“You ought to hang your own drawings,” Brenna told her.
“Oh, I don’t draw that well.”
“Well enough to sell a book with your stories and your drawings in it,” Brenna reminded her. “I think your pictures are lovely, and it would mean more, wouldn’t it, to the baby as it grew to have something its mother had done hanging here.”
“Really?” Jude tapped a finger on her lips, the pleasure of the idea obvious in her eyes. “I suppose I could have some framed, see how they looked.”
“Candy-colored frames,” Brenna told her. “Babes like bright colors, or so Ma always says.”
“All right.” Jude took a deep breath. “Now these floors. I don’t want to cover them, but they’ll need to be sanded and revarnished.”
“That’s not a problem. Some of this trim needs to be replaced too. I can make some up to match the rest of it.”
“Perfect. Now, here’s this idea I’ve been mulling over. It’s a large room, so I thought what if we made this corner here a kind of play area.” Gesturing, Jude crossed the room. “Shelves up this wall for toys, a little table and chair that would fit right under the window.”
“We can do that. But if you were to come ’round the corner with the shelves, you’d make better use of your space, and have it more like a separate spot, if you know what I mean. And I can make them adjustable so you can change the look of them as needs be.”
“Around the corner . . .” Jude narrowed her eyes and tried to picture it. “Yes. I like that. What do you think, Darcy?”
“I think the two of you know just what’s needed here, but it’s up to me to get you into Dublin for some smartlooking maternity clothes.”
Instinctively, Jude laid a hand on her stomach. “I’m not showing yet.”
“Why wait? You’ll need them long before the baby needs shelves, and you’re already thinking of those, aren’t you? We’ll go Thursday next, when I’ve the day off.” And the portion of her pay she allotted herself for fun in her pocket. “That suit you, Brenna?”
Brenna was already taking her measuring tape out of her toolbox. “Suits me for the pair of you. I’ve too much work just now to take a day being dragged around Dublin shops and waiting while you gasp over the next pair of shoes you can’t live without.”
“You could do with a new pair of boots yourself.” Darcy skimmed her gaze down. “Those look like you wore them to march over to the west counties and back again.”
“They do fine for me. Jude, tell Shawn to find a place for his junk here, and I’ll start on this room first of next week.”
“ ’Tisn’t junk,” Shawn said from the doorway. “I spent many a happy night in that bed where Darcy’s making herself at home just now.”
“Well, junk’s what it is now,” Brenna shot back with a little sniff. “And in the way. And how many times, I’d like to know, do you have to hit a nail to put holes this size in a wall?”
“You put pictures over them, and it doesn’t matter how big the holes are.”
“Since that’s your thinking on it, if you’ve a mind to put up anything in the cottage, call someone who knows one end of a hammer from the other. You’ll want to make him swear to that, Jude,” Brenna warned, “else the cottage’ll be rubble by spring.”
“I’ll fix the damn holes meself if it’ll shut you up.” His tone was pleasant, dangerously so. And that was just enough to give Brenna’s heart a little jerk and make her cover the reaction with sarcasm.
“Oh, to be sure, you’ll fix them. Like you fixed the sink at the pub the last time it plugged up so I had to wade through an inch of water on the floor to repair the damage.”
When Darcy snickered, Shawn sent her a cool and silent look. “I’ll have what’s left of mine out by tomorrow, Jude, if that’s all right with you.”
Recognizing scraped male pride, she started to step forward quickly. “There’s no hurry, Shawn. We were just . . .” She trailed off as the room took a sick, slow spin.
Before she could stagger, Shawn darted across the room at a speed that had Brenna’s mouth falling open and scooped his sister-in-law into his arms.
“It’s nothing.” Her head already clearing, Jude patted his shoulder. “I was just dizzy for a minute, that’s all. It happens now and then.”
“You’re for bed,” he said, already striding out. “Get Aidan.” He tossed the order to Darcy over his shoulder.
“No, no, I’m fine. Shawn, don’t—”
“Get Aidan,” he repeated, but Darcy was already up and running.
Brenna stood where she was for a moment, her measuring tape in her hand. As the oldest of five, she’d seen her mother stretch right out on the floor during a dizzy spell while pregnant, so she wasn’t particularly alarmed by Jude’s behavior. What she was, was stunned by the fluid strength she’d just witnessed. Why the man had plucked Jude up as if she’d been weightless.
Where had that been hiding?
Shaking herself clear, she hurried into the master bedroom in time to see Shawn lay Jude gently on the bed and pull a throw over her.
“Shawn, this is ridiculous. I—”
“Lie down.” He jabbed a finger at her in a way that made Jude obey and Brenna goggle. “I’m calling the doctor.”
“She doesn’t need the doctor.” Brenna nearly flinched from the furious glare he aimed at her when he whirled around. But she also saw sheer male fear behind his eyes, and was touched by it. “It’s just a part of carrying, that’s all.” She moved to the bed to sit and pat Jude’s hand. “My mother used to lie right down on
the kitchen floor when she had a spell, especially with Alice Mae.”
“I feel fine.”
“Of course you do. But a little rest doesn’t hurt. Why don’t you fetch our Jude some water, Shawn?”
“I think she should have the doctor.”
“Aidan’s likely to make her.” Because Jude looked so unhappy at the thought, Brenna gave her a look of quiet sympathy. “Oh, don’t take on now. Ma says that Dad did the same with her when she carried me. By the time the others came along, he was used to it. A man’s got a right to panic, after all. He doesn’t know what’s going on inside you the way you do, does he? Shawn, let’s have that water now.”
“All right, I’ll fetch it. But don’t let her get up.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“Of course you are. Your color’s back, your eyes are clear.” Brenna gave Jude’s hand another squeeze. “Do you want me to go out and head Aidan off, try to calm him down?”
“If you think—” She broke off as she heard the front door slam like a gunshot, and then footsteps rushing up the stairs. “Too late.”
Brenna got up and made it halfway across the room before Aidan came flying in. “She’s fine. Just a little expectant-mother spell. She’s—” Then she only sighed as Aidan dashed right past her.
“Are you all right? Did you faint? Did someone call the doctor?”
“We’ll leave it to her to calm him down.” Giving Darcy a little wave, Brenna nudged her out of the room and shut the door.
“Are you sure she’s all right? She looked so pale for a minute.”
“She’s fine, I promise you. And Aidan’ll likely keep her in bed the rest of the day no matter how she argues.”
“Bad enough a woman has to get fat as a cow with a baby. But add to that the hanging over the toilet every morning and fainting without a moment’s notice.” Darcy blew out a breath and ordered herself to calm down. “It’s a sorry state of affairs what a woman goes through. And you—” She stabbed a finger at Shawn as he walked down the hallway with a glass of water. “All the lot of you have to do is have your pleasure, whistle away nine months, then pass out smelly cigars.”
“It just goes to proving God’s a man,” he said with a weak smile.
Darcy’s lips quirked at that, but she shook her head. “I’m going to make Jude some tea and toast.”
She sauntered away, leaving Shawn staring at the bedroom door.
“Let’s give them a bit of privacy.” Brenna took his arm and tugged him toward the stairs.
“Shouldn’t I take her the water?”
“You drink it.” Feeling kindly toward him, Brenna reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re white as a sheet.”
“Scared ten years off my life, she did.”
“I can see that. But you acted fast and did just the right thing.” She slipped into the next room, picked up her measuring tape again. “She’s got all those changes going on inside her, and likely isn’t resting as much as she might. She’s all caught up in her plans,” she added, taking a measurement, writing it down in her little book. “So much new in her life in so short a time.”
“I guess it’s easier for women to take such matters in stride.”
“I suppose.” Brenna continued to measure and take notes. “You must remember when your mother was carrying Darcy.”
“Some.” He sipped at the water, as his throat was still dry with nerves. Brenna was calm enough, he noted, moving gracefully around the room in those thick old boots, taking measurements, writing things down, making little pencil marks and noting numbers right on the wall.
Some of her hair was falling out of her cap. Just a few long, spiraling red curls, loosened, he supposed, by her dash into the bedroom.
“What do you remember best?”
“Hmm?” He’d lost the thread somewhere, and now shifted his gaze from the red curl that teased her shoulder back to her face.
“About when your mother was pregnant with Darcy? What do you remember best?”
“Laying my head against her belly, feeling all those kicks and movements. It was like Darcy was fretting to get outside and get on with things.”
“That’s a nice one.” Brenna put her tape and notebook away, lifted her toolbox. “I’m sorry I snapped and snarled at you before. I was in a bit of a mood today.”