The Last of His Kind (10 page)

"I
couldn't possibly say. It is far too early, but they look very healthy and just
at the right stage for their development." The elderly woman had smiled,
handed Doric a tissue, and then given them some privacy. Her proud and
impossibly handsome husband had been lost for words, silent tears streaming
down his face, and they'd sat for ages staring at the grainy images on the
screen. Their babies, their very own little miracles.

She'd
had the devil of a job to get Doric to stop treating her with kid gloves, and
it wasn't until her midwife had given him a stern talking to, that he'd
relented. Wise old Ana had been a breath of fresh air. Doric had tracked her
down the minute Penelope had announced that she had no intention of having her
babies in any fancy hospital. She wanted them to be born back by the Loch where
they'd been conceived, not prodded and poked and marveled over by doctors, who
had no idea what and whom they were dealing with.

She
had warmed to Ana's no-nonsense approach immediately. Not only was she a
midwife of immeasurable experience, she had been mated to Doric's uncle. Theirs
had been a childless union, but it had prolonged her life. She had been the one
to bring Doric's brothers into the world, and she was delighted to be given the
chance to help his sons, too.

Penelope
still found it hard to believe that Ana was in fact centuries old. She looked
to be in her seventies, if that. But she had proven a fount of knowledge,
answering every one of Penelope's questions with calm reassurances.

A
fresh wave of pain racked Penelope, and she panted her way through it, dimly
aware of Doric rising from the
Loch
. He
shrugged into the clothes he'd left at the side and hunkered down beside her,
drawing Penelope into his warmth. His sons kicked and squirmed in response to
their father's presence, and a new, much more painful wave brought a moan to
her lips.

"They're
getting stronger,
ceannbeag.
Let's get you inside. Ana should have
everything ready by now."

Penelope
needed no convincing. The pains were now coming fast and furious, and the walk
up to the cottage took ages. Her waters broke just as she stepped over the
threshold, and Ana clapped her hands in delight.

"Aye,
it's a gid sign. This hoose is blessed fir sure. Let's git yae upstairs, wee
yin. It'll no be long, ah reckon."

True
to Ana's predictions in no time at all Arac and Morin entered the world in a
furious bout of wailing at the whole indignity of being born. Doric caught his
sons, and placed them on their mother's chest, where the boys settled.
Penelope's heart swelled, and her tears mixed with Doric's as they sat and
watched their sons stare up at them.

The
last of his kind was no more. A bright new future dawned for all of them. The
news of Euan's death had reached them only that morning. The eagle had been
killed, resisting capture, having finally been tracked down by the authorities.
With that last cloud lifted, their babies’ future was as safe as it could be.
Ana tiptoed out of the room, a broad smile on her lined features.

Who
said fairy tales could not come true?

The End

www.dorisoconnor.com

Other Books by Doris O’Connor:

Lure
of the Blood

Lure
of Forever

Too
Hot to Handle

Too
Cold to Love

Virgins
Behaving Badly

Riding
Her Tiger

Tiger
Scars

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com