I’d just tucked Jon into his crib and turned to get the twins ready for bed, when the knock came.
“Mama,” said Linnie, “Charlie says his Ma’s baby is coming.”
I sigh. My eyes meet Linnie’s, the same forget-me-not blue as her father’s. At just twelve, she’d had to take on far too many responsibilities since we’d lost him at Culloden.
I dropped a kiss on the twins’ foreheads. “Mind your sister,” I said, with a stern glance.
I pulled Linnie into an embrace. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered. Picking up my bag I followed Charlie into the darkening night.