Read Online A Mother's Love by Ruth Wind - Free Book Online Page A

soft snore coming from her open mouth. She looked gray with exhaustion. “Poor thing,” Kyra said very quietly and covered Emma with an afghan.
    â€œShe’s worn-out,” Dylan said in an equally quiet tone. “I told her it would be too much.”
    â€œI need to be here with the baby starting tonight,” Kyra said. “I can sleep on the couch if necessary. And your mother will still be here if I don’t know what to do.”
    â€œYou won’t have to sleep on the couch. There are beds.”
    â€œDo you think she’ll argue?”
    He cast a tender gaze over his mother’s prone form, then smiled at Kyra. “Probably. It’s still the right thing.” He touched her shoulder. “Thank you.”
    Kyra went to the cradle, and there was the baby. “Hello, sweetie,” she said quietly. And she knew it was probably too early for a true smile, but it seemed to her that the baby’s face lit up, and if that wasn’t the real thing, it was enough like one to make Kyra feel important. She touched the baby’s tummy, patted the diaper as Emma seemed to do, and it felt dry and clean. The little feet and hands started moving happily, however, and Kyra laughed.
    â€œShe wants you to pick her up,” Dylan said.
    Carefully Kyra scooped one hand beneath the baby’s head and neck and one around her bottom and lifted. “Tada!” she said, bringing Tommie’s face close to her own. She kissed her nose, smelled the sweetness of baby breath and the elegant, cool softness of baby skin. “Mmm, you are my sunshine, aren’t you?”
    â€œI think you’ve got the hang of it,” Dylan said.
    The baby chortled, looking around for the source of that other voice, and Dylan came closer, cupped his big, dark hand around the small head. “So delicate,” he said. “So strong.”
    He looked at Kyra and she looked back, and again it was as if she’d known him somewhere else. That familiarity washed over her like a song she could hum but couldn’t sing.
    Neither of them said anything. They simply stood there, close but not touching, for long moments, the baby making little noises of all kinds, her arms and legs pinwheeling until she accidentally got one in her mouth and made a loud “Lalalala!” that made both of the adults laugh.
    Dylan moved first. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
    Â 
    E MMA WAS TOO TIRED to argue about them taking the baby out. “We’re just going to the point,” Dylan said. “Just a little picnic. A little bonding time for mother and baby.”
    â€œBe careful the wind doesn’t take her breath,” Emma said. “And remember that babies need another layer of clothing. If you have two, they need three.”
    At last, when Emma had given them as many injunctions and warnings as she could remember, they took the baby outside and up the hill. Dylan carried the picnic basket.Kyra carried the baby. They spread a blanket on the ground in a shady place, and Kyra settled Tommie on her back to look up at the trees. Immediately she started to coo.
    â€œOh, she likes that!” Dylan said. He took things out of the basket and put them on the blanket—cookies and cheese and bread and dark, long olives and pickles and various sliced vegetables in a plastic container.
    â€œI’m not terribly hungry right now,” Kyra said.
    â€œThere’s plenty of time.” He settled cross-legged on the blanket. “So tell me your story, Kyra Tierney,” he said.
    She cocked her head. “The whole thing, from the first moment of birth to now?”
    â€œNo.” He broke a cookie in half and considered as he held one. “Tell me ten things you love.”
    â€œHmm.” With one hand on the baby’s foot, she said, “The ocean, even though I never get to see it. My father and mother divorced when I was seven, but just before they split up we took a