I went up the stairs to our bedroom and had to wonder when Annabelle and her sons had made the plans for house hunting. That stank of her knowing that they'd be headed home. I was curious, however, about what houses that their mother had looked into. What type of house did Annabelle think would be right for the three of them and their twins?

I pulled a pretty dress over my top of my bra and underwear set. While my breasts were heavy from pregnancy, the colostrum hadn't begun yet, for which I was thankful. I'd found nursing pads and had them on hand, but was happy that I hadn't needed them. Sliding on my ballet flats, brushing and braiding my hair over my shoulder, I cleaned my glasses and put them on to complete my house seeing look.

When I came down the stairs, I noticed the guys weren't wearing their peacoats, but had put on heavy wool sweaters, as they grabbed my own coat from the hook by the door. I raised an eyebrow and Connor chuckled.

"De babes don like how we smell in dem." He offered as reasoning.

Murphy nodded, making sure that I was tucked into my own jacket. "Cant 'ave dere mudder tossin' 'er breakfast all over da cobbles can we?"

I smiled as Annabelle joined us in by the door. "Do I get a preview of where we're heading?" I asked, as they pulled me outside. I realized they had a vehicle. Thank heavens, I thought walking or taking the bus would be a trial depending how far we were going.

Annabelle shook her head. "Nah. Tis a surprise." She grinned and I squinted at her.

"You're just as mischievous as they are." I accused.

"Yer don know da 'alf of it." Murphy chuckled, tucking me into the back seat with their mother.

Connor nodded, taking the driver's seat. "Has she told ya 'bout da night she had us tinkin' she killed 'erself?"

I shook my head, knowing I was being diverted, but loving to hear their stories. Knowing more about them with every single memory they shared. The tale launched, the trio added here and there and I laughed as one tale ran to another while we drove down the roads and toward a few houses that Annabelle thought had potential.

LATER THAT NIGHT~ BACK AT ANNABELLE'S

"Well?" Annabelle asked, pouring me a cup of tea as she and the boys partook in some fine Irish whiskey. "Which did ya like?"

They'd shown me two houses, both over two hours from Annabelle's home. They were both in the country, and both were spacious and had more than enough room for our children to grow up in. They also had land. One over an acre, with outbuildings and with a very little effort could become a small farm. The other had access to a small brook down a flight of moss covered steps. Both were beautiful. The first, the farmhouse, was very Irish in the whitewashed walls and red doors. The other more modern, but covered in decorative rocks and landscaped well enough to make it fit in with the rolling green surrounding it.

I sighed. They were beautiful and out of the way. They were also so very far from the few people I'd gotten to know. "They were both gorgeous. I just worry-"

"Dat dere too far away?" Connor asked, from his place at my left on the sofa, had seen my glance at Annabelle.

Murphy, sitting on my right, took my hand in his. "We 'ave da car, Tess." He assured me, but knew there was more to my argument.

"Yes, and I know that. It's just," I stopped, would it really matter that much? I'd moved from West Virginia to Boston without a glance back. Annabelle would find a way to come to me should I need her, and the phone calls would work both ways. "Which one did you two like best?"

Of course each one had a different favorite. I rolled my eyes. Murphy liked the more modern of the two, but Connor loved the older farmhouse with the greater parcel of land. They argued while both drank with their mother. I smiled as they actually debated, rather than tussled. My hand fell to my bump and I lay my head back. Before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep.

I didn't feel them lift me, or carry me upstairs. I only woke up when I felt the dress being tugged over my head as someone held me against them so I was vertical. Groggy, I blinked open my eyes, and saw Connor in front of me, asking Murphy to unhook my bra.

"I can do it," I groaned, and tried to reach behind me, but a yawn overtook me. "Give me a second to get my bearings."

I felt Murphy's chuckle as his rough fingers unsnapped my bra and freed me from the fabric. I sighed, freedom from constraint was wonderful. "Dere, dat's better, isn't it?" His breath caressed my earlobe and I leaned back into his arms.

"Tired ya out," Connor said, giving me a gentle kiss. "Gonna take some gettin' used ta, yer bein' pregnant."

I smiled against his lips, happy that the taste of whiskey and Connor didn't make their demons react poorly. "Same for me."

"Ta bed." Murphy ordered, lifting me as easily as if I still weighed the same as when we'd met. He kissed me as gently as his brother had and placed me in the center of our makeshift bed. Covering me with the blankets so I wouldn't be chilled while they got themselves ready for bed, I tried to watch, but then darkness enveloped me and I was asleep again.

I woke in the familiar way, chest to chest with Murphy, back to chest with Connor. They were both wearing their boxers and I still had my panties, so that was new. I could feel our babies fluttering inside me, clearly they knew mommy was awake, but their daddies didn't. Not yet. I took the time to study Murphy in the early morning sun. Still so innocent in sleep, so pure and perfect. I would roll over to check Connor, but he woke so easily that it would be a rare gift to see him in sleep.

I was so happy to have them back. To be able to share our children's birth with them, but there was still that fear inside me. The fear that they'd be called back. That we'd pick one of the houses, and I'd be there, alone while they were off in danger. And Annabelle would be two hours away, a short distance by phone, but too far if I needed her. After all, hadn't I been taken minutes away from home in Boston?

Like they could hear my thoughts as easily as one another's, I felt them shift and curl tighter against me. Comforting me, even in their dreams. Connor's hand curved over my bump, while Murphy's cradled the under-curve of it. Perhaps that was why the babies were fluttering, they could feel the warmth of their daddies love.

I had to trust in that love. Their love for me, for our babies. If I trusted nothing in this world, that would be the one thing I would hold on to.