Even Pitney had grown restless of late and spoke often of leaving the island to seek out a fortune in the new land. Trahern guessed that the man had fallen in love with the vast spaces and found life here now narrow and restrictive. A ship had been sighted as they were on their way to church, and Pitney had gone down to the docks to meet it, a fire of adventure beginning to glow in his eyes.
“By God, it is a tempting thing,” Orlan Trahern thought. “And in my journeys up and down the colonies, I could stop often to see my grandchild.” His eyes went again to the painting. “I’d come back here, too, Georgiana, often, and I would ever cherish the memories we set to seed here.”
The minister had finished his sermon and was calling the congregation to its feet for a song when he paused and stared speechless toward the rear of the church. Before Trahern could turn, a huge hand gripped his shoulder, and he glanced up to see Pitney grinning down at him.
Trahern frowned and began to rise. Then a small, blanketed bundle was thrust gently into his arms. He had barely time to see the dark hair before another one was placed in his other arm. He looked back and forth between the two, seeing the black hair and a hint of green in the baby blue of their eyes.
The squire’s jaw dropped. He raised his gaze in wonder to meet Shanna’s brightly beaming visage. “A boy and a girl, papa.”
“This was news no letter could bear,” Ruark smiled. “We were overdue a visit, anyway.”
Orlan Trahern was speechless. He stared down at the twins again and could not for the life of him bring forth words to express his joy. He looked up at the painting on the wall, and his voice was choked and broken as he whispered:
“More than we ever dreamed, Georgiana. More than we ever dreamed.”