The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) by Shannon Farrell Page B
Authors: Shannon Farrell
Ads: Link
her baby and then convalescing
afterwards.
Dalton laid her on
the clean sheets,
and began to
undo Emer’s clothing,
his fingers shaking tremulously when he saw her water break.
“You’re going to be
all right, my
love. I’m here,”
he murmured,
kissing her snow-white brow lovingly.
Emer, unconscious
for most of the
labour, was blissfully unaware of the pain, until near the
end, when Dalton
administered some smelling salts, tapped her on the cheeks to
wake her, and
then said, “Come on, Emer, the baby’s coming now, but we need
you to push.”
“Baby?" she
muttered drowsily.
"Aye, our baby is
just about to
arrive. I need you to push, my love."
"What happened? How
long have I
been here?” Emer murmured, feeling a curious numbness in the
lower part of her
body which she attributed to the labour.
“There was a fire
at the orphanage,
remember, darling? You
had to
escape through the floorboards and under the porch, and
something fell on
you."
"When, where am I?"
"You're at my
house,"
Adrian said with a smile. "The baby is nearly here, so we need
to you
push, dear girl."
"How long have I
been here like
this?" she asked, grimacing at the dull ache in her side and
back.
"Nearly two days,
my love. Come
on, focus now, we need your help,”
Dalton urged. "We need to get this baby out now."
“What baby? I don’t feel
anything,” she whispered
weakly.
Adrian looked at
Dalton, and shook
his head before grasping the forceps.
"All right, Emer,
push, push,
darling, come on, that's it!"
"I've got it,
Dalton,"
Adrian reassured him with evident relief.
Emer felt a very
dull sensation
between her legs, and then all of a sudden, she saw Dalton
holding the child
upside down by the ankles.
He gave
it a resounding whack on the bottom to get it to cry, and then
wiped it down
with a clean cloth.
Adrian cut the cord
and tied it off,
and Dalton said proudly, “Look, it’s a boy! Emer, we have a son!
He’s beautiful!”
Emer gazed in
amazement at the
miniature version of Dalton that was put into her arms. Then
she kissed his
tiny hand and Dalton’s lips as he bent to kiss them both.
“Do you want to
name him, Dalton?”
Emer asked quietly.
“No, no, I think
you should have
first choice of name,” Dalton insisted.
“Can we call him
William, then,
after my father?”
“I was going to say
the same
myself.” Dalton smiled, and kissed her again.
“I love you,
Dalton,” Emer sighed,
as tears of joy glimmered in her aqua eyes.
“I love you, Emer,
always. Try to
rest now,” Dalton soothed,
stroking back her tumbled burgundy hair lovingly, while his
other hand grasped
his son’s tiny fingers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Emer awakened
on a bright
morning toward the end of May, she was surrounded by a sea of
concerned
faces. She saw
that they had placed
her in a plainly furnished guest room at Adrian’s house. The Bishop
was
there, along with Myrtle
and Adrian.
“Well, my dear you
gave us all a
terrible fright. I’m glad to see you’ve come back to us.” The
Bishop smiled
down at her warmly.
“The children,
where are they?” Emer
whispered, her throat sore from
the smoke she had inhaled.
“Joe is looking
after the family out
at the mansion, and Dalton has your son William safe in the
next room,” Myrtle
informed her.
“What about the
other children at
the orphanage? Where
are we going
to put them all?” Emer worried.
She tried to move
her dull-feeling
limbs to sit up.
“Easy, Emer, rest
yourself. Don’t
try to move. There's
nothing you need to worry
about,” the Bishop hastened to reassure her, pressing her back
on the pillow by
her shoulder.
“Many of
afterwards.
Dalton laid her on
the clean sheets,
and began to
undo Emer’s clothing,
his fingers shaking tremulously when he saw her water break.
“You’re going to be
all right, my
love. I’m here,”
he murmured,
kissing her snow-white brow lovingly.
Emer, unconscious
for most of the
labour, was blissfully unaware of the pain, until near the
end, when Dalton
administered some smelling salts, tapped her on the cheeks to
wake her, and
then said, “Come on, Emer, the baby’s coming now, but we need
you to push.”
“Baby?" she
muttered drowsily.
"Aye, our baby is
just about to
arrive. I need you to push, my love."
"What happened? How
long have I
been here?” Emer murmured, feeling a curious numbness in the
lower part of her
body which she attributed to the labour.
“There was a fire
at the orphanage,
remember, darling? You
had to
escape through the floorboards and under the porch, and
something fell on
you."
"When, where am I?"
"You're at my
house,"
Adrian said with a smile. "The baby is nearly here, so we need
to you
push, dear girl."
"How long have I
been here like
this?" she asked, grimacing at the dull ache in her side and
back.
"Nearly two days,
my love. Come
on, focus now, we need your help,”
Dalton urged. "We need to get this baby out now."
“What baby? I don’t feel
anything,” she whispered
weakly.
Adrian looked at
Dalton, and shook
his head before grasping the forceps.
"All right, Emer,
push, push,
darling, come on, that's it!"
"I've got it,
Dalton,"
Adrian reassured him with evident relief.
Emer felt a very
dull sensation
between her legs, and then all of a sudden, she saw Dalton
holding the child
upside down by the ankles.
He gave
it a resounding whack on the bottom to get it to cry, and then
wiped it down
with a clean cloth.
Adrian cut the cord
and tied it off,
and Dalton said proudly, “Look, it’s a boy! Emer, we have a son!
He’s beautiful!”
Emer gazed in
amazement at the
miniature version of Dalton that was put into her arms. Then
she kissed his
tiny hand and Dalton’s lips as he bent to kiss them both.
“Do you want to
name him, Dalton?”
Emer asked quietly.
“No, no, I think
you should have
first choice of name,” Dalton insisted.
“Can we call him
William, then,
after my father?”
“I was going to say
the same
myself.” Dalton smiled, and kissed her again.
“I love you,
Dalton,” Emer sighed,
as tears of joy glimmered in her aqua eyes.
“I love you, Emer,
always. Try to
rest now,” Dalton soothed,
stroking back her tumbled burgundy hair lovingly, while his
other hand grasped
his son’s tiny fingers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Emer awakened
on a bright
morning toward the end of May, she was surrounded by a sea of
concerned
faces. She saw
that they had placed
her in a plainly furnished guest room at Adrian’s house. The Bishop
was
there, along with Myrtle
and Adrian.
“Well, my dear you
gave us all a
terrible fright. I’m glad to see you’ve come back to us.” The
Bishop smiled
down at her warmly.
“The children,
where are they?” Emer
whispered, her throat sore from
the smoke she had inhaled.
“Joe is looking
after the family out
at the mansion, and Dalton has your son William safe in the
next room,” Myrtle
informed her.
“What about the
other children at
the orphanage? Where
are we going
to put them all?” Emer worried.
She tried to move
her dull-feeling
limbs to sit up.
“Easy, Emer, rest
yourself. Don’t
try to move. There's
nothing you need to worry
about,” the Bishop hastened to reassure her, pressing her back
on the pillow by
her shoulder.
“Many of
Similar Books
