Zia instructed Lachlan to fetch her if need be, even if it were just to ask a question.
Lachlan thanked her profusely as he walked her to the door.
“I’ve never seen such an easy birth,” Zia said at the open door. “Your wife was remarkable, not a scream or a protest. She simply focused on her task and birthed her son so easily that she truly didn’t need my help.”
Lachlan swelled with pride. “Still, I’m glad you were here to help. It made me feel better.”
Zia smiled. “Thank you. Now go to your wife and new son.”
Lachlan closed the door as Zia walked into her husband’s waiting arms.
He hurried over to his wife and son, slipped off his boots and quickly shed his shirt, though left his plaid on and crawled into bed to wrap his arms around Alyce and his son.
“This wasn’t how I thought of our wedding night, though it is so much more than I ever hoped or dreamed.”
Alyce reached over and rested her hand to his cheek. “Thank you—”
“It is I who should thank you,” he insisted. “You birthed our son.”
“No, I want to thank you for having the patience to love me, for not giving up when I snapped at you or blamed you or shouted at you or ran away, or failed to realize just how deeply you loved me.”
“Now you know,” he said softly.
She yawned, her eyes fluttering closed. “And I will never forget.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then kissed his son’s tiny red cheek and with a yawn snuggled around them and went to sleep.