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She adored her brother and sister. Being apart from them for weeks or months at a time was difficult, but years? She didn’t think she could survive under such circumstances.
“As long as I stay,” Freya said when he finished, “I’ll help ye with them. That much I can promise, whatever else happens between the two of us before the three weeks are over.”
The words left her before she realized what she’d said.
The babies were innocent and needed someone to look after them. Evander might want to care for them, but considering his duties, he would be overwhelmed.
Helping with the babies was the least she could do.
“Are ye certain ye can trust them?” She nodded toward the tent flap, meaning the clan beyond it, the man who’d delivered the news and ridden off again just as quickly. “There must have been a good reason why ye left in the first place, Evander. How does a clan welcome back the man it once cast out, as if naught had ever happened?”
“They welcome me because they need me,” Evander snapped. “It is out of convenience and nothing more. Those people need a leader, and I am the only one left in the family to step up.”
“And yet…?”
“I need no one, wife. Have I nae made that clear to ye?”
She let that sit for a moment, unimpressed, one eyebrow lifting in a way that made it plain exactly how much she believed him. “And yet—”
“But I’ll discuss it. With me men. And we’ll decide together.”
Were it not for the babies lying just a few feet away, watching their every move, Freya would’ve raised a fuss at the interruption.
“Ye’ll discuss it? With them?”
“It affects their lives too, does it nae? Why would I nae discuss such a thing with them?”
Freya blinked at him, and she felt something inside her soften without her meaning to. “I’ve never heard another laird say such a thing in all me life.”
“Should I take that as a compliment, then?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t get the chance, because the boy decided that exact moment that he was furious, his small face screwing up in preparation for a wail that promised to wake half the camp.
“Have ye learned their names?” Freya asked.
Evander watched as she scooped the boy up into her arms and gently bounced him. The girl started crying next, and he wasted no time scooping her up too, but his movements were more awkward and unsure than Freya’s.
The boy started to settle, only to wail again when Freya attempted to set him down.
“Nay,” Evander muttered.
Freya scoffed incredulously. “Ye learned ye have a niece and nephew, but ye havenae learned their names? Do ye expect to call them lad and lassie, then?”
“I’ll learn their names,” Evander huffed. “I think we have more pressing matters at the moment, do we nae?”
She said nothing more, only turned and walked out, leaving him with the fussing bairns and his own bad temper.
He paced, bounced the girl until she quieted, and wondered where his wife had stormed off to. It wasn’t long before she returned, chin lifted, looking rather pleased with herself.
“Amelia,” she announced, nodding at the baby in his arms. “And Archer.” She crossed to take the girl from him. “Jack kent their names all along. Ye only needed to ask.”
Evander stared at her. “Ye went and asked him yerself.”
“Aye. Someone had to,” she argued. “Ye were perfectly content calling them lad and lass until the morning. I couldnae let that stand.”
The babies continued to fuss. It took hours to settle them. Whenever one quieted, the other would start up, which only set off the first one all over again, until both Freya and Evander were reduced to pacing the edge of the tent, each with a baby in their arms.
Sleep came before dawn. Freya barely remembered settling on the bed, with the babies between them. When she opened her eyes, sunlight streamed through the crack in the tent, warm against her chilled skin.
