Page 40 of Highlander’s Evil Twin

Hiram picked him up gently, almost afraid to hold him too tightly. He passed his son to Heather and she tucked him against her breast. In seconds, he had latched to the offered nipple.

“Just like his father,” she whispered to Hiram mischievously.

“Aye, that’s true. It won’t be long before I will be playing with those breasts again but for now, my son needs his food.” Hiram laughed. “I am in such awe. Your body has given me such gifts.”

They both watched in total delight as Alistair suckled greedily. She looked at the wee lad and immediately felt the most intense love she had ever felt. It was so different from the way she felt with her husband; this was an overwhelming protective love. A love that made her want to hold him close and never let him go. There was a part of her that could see how being a mother could be so overwhelming, as the love was like nothing else. She vowed never to turn out like Hiram’s mother. Possessive love was not a good love at all.

Heather studied Alistair as he slept in her arms. His hair was quite dark on top of his head and thick and wavy. She’d been surprised by this but had been told that hair color often changed. His cheeks were not as chubby as other newborns she had seen and wondered if it was because she had not been able to keep food down for much of the pregnancy. “If I had been able to eat more, you would be a fat lad,” she told him in a voice that held much love in it. He had finished suckling but had fallen asleep, still latched to her breast. There was a faint trace of milk on his lips that she found adorable.

“Would you like to put him back in the crib for me?” she asked.

Hiram took their child from her and rocked him quietly back to sleep. “Shh, don’t cry Alistair, Daddy has you.”

Heather smiled as she watched their interaction. Hiram was as in love with their baby as she was.

Heather fell asleep but continued to stir every time Alistair gurgled. She was terrified that something would happen to him. Her dreams changed that night. It was no longer Connor taunting her from the shadows but fear that her precious baby would not wake up. She listened for his breath in the darkness and then, as sleep gradually claimed her, would wake in a panic that he had stopped breathing. In the morning she felt exhausted but rose out of bed to feed him, reassured that he was hungry.

He was greedy. Throughout the day, she realized she was feeding him almost every hour. As he cried, she could feel herself producing enough milk to feed hundreds of children. No one had warned her about that, she thought wryly. But she couldn’t worry about it. If he needed food, she would feed him. He needed to be strong. She had never imagined the joy of being a mother. Giving birth to another being was a miracle. She knew she would want more even though the labor had been long and difficult. Once her body settled again and she’d had time to rest, she would ask Hiram if they could try straight away for another one. His idea of having many children appealed to her. They would fill this castle with joy and noise and make it a home.

22

Heather felt her eyes closing as she fed the baby. She had barely been able to sleep since his birth two weeks ago. She slept only for a few minutes before he cried to be changed or needed feeding. He slept little so by default, she did too. Hiram tried his best but only she could feed him. She was terrified that she might fall asleep while doing so. What if she rolled over and squashed him? He was so tiny after all.

That night, sleep had not come at all. She’d lain awake listening to Hiram breathing deeply. He had been providing some manual labor working with the men today and so he was exhausted too. He didn’t need to do the work, but he liked to. He said it was always best to lead by example. It was a good motto to follow. At times, baby Alistair would make little snuffling sounds; she would have to get up and check he could breathe alright. Several times she had panicked and would grab him, waking him up, and his cries would echo around their quarters. Sometimes Hiram would sleep through the noise but she doubted the rest of the castle got much sleep.

Hiram had noticed how tired Heather looked, and he was worried about her. While she still looked curvy, she appeared drawn. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones seemed more prominent.

“I am worried about you,” he told her. “You are not looking well.”

She burst into tears and he went to her immediately. “What is it?”

“I am so afraid,” she cried.

“Why? What is it?” Hiram was aghast. He knew that she was not sleeping well but he was afraid as to what she might say.

“I fear our baby will stop breathing in the middle of the night. Because of that, I cannot sleep at night. I fall asleep when you take him during the day, but only for a few moments. My thoughts seem all fractured, and I cannot seem to remember things,” she told him.

Hiram looked at her sympathetically. “I am going to take Alistair out with me for a few hours. So, you must feed him now and he will be fine with me. No arguments. You, Milady, will then get some sleep.” He picked their baby up from his crib and placed him in her arms as she settled on the bed. He watched with pleasure as she peeled the top layer of her dress down and a plump breast was offered to their son. Alistair seemed to know instinctively that it meant food and his little hands reached out to hold the breast while he latched on, greedily feeding. Hiram felt he could stay watching this forever. There was something so incredible about it. His wife, her body designed to give him such pleasure that also offered protection for the baby during pregnancy was incredible and now, she was able to nurture their child, and feeding on demand. Milk trickled down his son’s chin as he guzzled. He stopped contentedly for a moment, the nipple still in his mouth. As if trying to digest the quantity of milk, the baby breathed in the scent of his mother and started to suckle again.

“He doesn’t want to stop.” Heather laughed.

“I don’t blame him.” Hiram smiled, wiping away the milk from Alistair’s tiny chin. “My son will be a warrior, well, he will if he keeps eating like this.” He reached out to touch Heather’s cheek. “My love, would you like the doctor to come and give you something to help you sleep?”

She shook her head. “No, not while I am breastfeeding. I don’t want him to have medicine in his system. I just need a few hours’ sleep.”

Finally, Alistair seemed to have eaten his fill. Hiram took him from her and he prepared his son for a few hours outside. He made Heather lie down and get some rest. He held his son in his arms and cooed at the child. He was already getting much bigger than he had been at birth. Hiram had been amazed at the amount of times he would find Heather feeding him.

He knew that motherhood was tiring. It had to be. Her body had just provided the miracle of life. It had to have sapped her energy and without sleep or enough food, she would not stay well. He had to help her more. But this was a start. Alistair could come out on the land with him. He was all wrapped up and ready to go out into the big wide world. Hiram had the desire to take him out onto the land so he could touch his son’s little feet to the ground. It was an old family tradition that his father had told him about. He was a Scot and a future laird and therefore, he must feel a connection with their land.

If he was out of the way, then Heather would not be able to hear him cry, so sleep might come. He looked at her now; her eyes were heavy and already sleep was nudging at the edge of her conscious mind. She succumbed to its demands before he had even closed the door.

23

Alistair was six-months-old already. He looked so different. He had been feeding well and had settled into a routine. Now that Heather was more relaxed, Alistair was too. Their bond was incredibly strong. It was intuitive. When she was happy, her son was. It seemed to be that simple. When she was grumpy, her son was too.

For now, though, he was fast asleep again and looking angelic. His dark waves had turned into a deep auburn and he looked just like his father. Heather was so proud of him; she loved that her son was the image of the man she adored so much. He was breathing evenly in his crib and swaddled in blankets. He was a relaxed and happy baby and Heather felt she had learned a lot about motherhood in those six months. It had taken her time to learn what to do. Some of it was instinctive but her mother had helped her to consider the practical elements.

She felt more like her old self. Her parents had stayed in the castle for a month which had been such a joy. Hiram had called for them and explained how tired Heather was and he felt she needed her parents. They had been delighted and had taken control of looking after her. They took care of Alistair and made sure Heather went to sleep and that she ate properly. It had made such a difference having them here. But now they had gone, and Heather had other things on her mind.