Page 173 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
Tears trickle from my eyes.
Amy grips the edge of the counter to keep herself upright. “I am so sorry. I didn’t— I’m-I’m so sorry…”
I turn away from her as she finally collapses onto the old linoleum.
Her words don’t mean anything.
Nothing she can say will take back what she’s done or give us what we’ve lost.
Just like nothing I can do will ever make up for what I said to Willow that day that sent her running in the first place.
My fear of failing as a father, of losing her because of it, caused me to miss out on so much. But now I am one, and seeing Willow standing here, holding our son, it finally feels like the nightmare is over.
22
TWO DAYS LATER
WILLOW
Thunder rolls overhead, rattling the windowpanes and eliciting a little squawk from Niall. He squirms in Killian’s hold, and his frantic blue gaze meets mine as he adjusts his hold on the baby and continues pacing the main cabin.
His attention returns to his son, examining him carefully. “Are you sure he’s all right?”
I can’t fight the grin that pulls at my lips as I watch them from the kitchen, making him a bottle. “He’s fine. Babies cry, Killian, when they’re hungry, when they’re tired, when they need a clean diaper, when a loud noise startles them.”
It used to startle me, too.
But tonight, the storm doesn’t bother me.
Now that I remember what I did, running out in that storm to save Niall and myself, the power doesn’t frighten me anymore.
I’ve faced things far worse.
But my placation doesn’t seem to make Killian feel any better or ease any of the tense concern marring his brow.
He brushes his lips over Niall’s head and murmurs something to him that I can’t hear, shifting his hand gently across the baby’s back with Niall’s face resting against his bare chest—right over the tattoo of McBride Mountain where he was born.
No matter what I say, I know Killian won’t stop worrying.
For the past couple of days, since we got Niall, it’s all Killian has done.
Even though the pediatrician assured us he’s healthy. Even though Earl and Amy are locked safely away and the district attorney has already filed charges against them. Even though it’s finally over and our son is in his arms and safe, it hasn’t stopped the constant anxiety from overriding his usually self-confident nature.
Tension still permeates his body, even at night.
He doesn’t sleep, lying awake watching Niall and me. Pacing the cabin as if he can’t let go of that fear that consumed us for so long.
And when Niall is awake, he barely lets him out of his sight. Always watching for the tiniest signs his son might be unhappy.
As endearing as it is, it’s also concerning.
I snag the bottle from where it’s been warming on the stove and make my way over to him. Killian stops his pacing as I hand it to him and searches my face as if he’s trying to determine if I’m okay, even though I’ve assured him I am. I lean up on my tiptoes and feather a kiss to his lips, silencing anything he might say—and hopefully the voices in his head that won’t let him settle.
He leans into the kiss, clutching Niall close to himself between us, letting his lips linger on mine until I finally pull away.
I tuck a strand of his long blond hair back behind his ear. “He’s just hungry, and the thunder startled him. You have to stop worrying so much.”
Killian always clutches him so tightly, afraid he’s going to hold him wrong or drop him or do something that will upset him—or me. It will take some time, but eventually, Killian will believe what I already do, that he’s going to be a wonderful father.
