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The Wicklow Mountains are a very scenic part of a very scenic nation. Martha Grant didn't see much of the beautiful countryside on the drive down. She informed everyone she wasn't feeling her best the next morning as she awoke with a splitting headache and upset tummy. She did not join the family for breakfast. Candy and Jonathan were concerned about her health, but Martha waved away their questions. Daniel and Carolyn, on the other hand, suspected they knew the cause of Martha's ailment. Jonathan overheard his father's whispered comment to his mother. "She needs some hair of the dog that bit her last night." He leaned against her shoulder briefly for emphasis. Carolyn slapped his knee and admonished him with "Shush, you!"

Jonathan Muir became alarmed and turned to his sister sitting in the row of seats behind their parents. "Martha got bit by a dog last night!"

Carolyn rolled her eyes in exasperation and turned back to her worried son. "It's just an expression, honey. She wasn't bit by a dog last night."

Captain Gregg said over his shoulder. "She just had one too many jars of the good stuff. She'll be fine after a few hours and a nap. Just leave her in peace and all will be well." He leaned across his wife to speak to Cara. "I take it our dear Martha enjoyed herself last evening?"

Cara nodded and smiled sheepishly. "That she did, Captain Gregg, that she did. She danced and sang along with the boys. She got one marriage proposal that I know about from one Mr. Mack O'Neil, a spry old gent of some 85 years. Life of the party, she was at Gogerty's." Cara couldn't contain a giggle.

Daniel and Carolyn exchanged grins. "Ed Peavey better snatch her up while he still can," mused Carolyn. Martha was family and an adult, entitled to sow whatever wild oats she still had at her age—despite the fact her "wild oats" were mostly oatmeal these days and harmless fun.

Aiden Kiely drove the 30 miles south along the coast down to the town of Wicklow. There Martha, the Muir children and the Kiely's checked into a quaint bed & breakfast establishment known as McCredie's, where Daniel (via the travel agent) had reserved rooms for their caravan of travelers. After a family lunch and a brief reconnaissance of the village, Aiden became the private chauffeur for Captain and Mrs. Gregg when he drove them to Glendalough, in the heart of the Wicklow Mountains National Park. There they had managed to reserve a private bungalow on the grounds of the ancient monastery over-looking the peaceful lower lake, but away from the prying eyes of visitors who came by the busloads to stroll through the ancient graveyard, tour the weathered stone ruins or hike the trails to the upper lake to reach the landmark known as St. Kevin's Bed. Aiden wished them a pleasant stay as he pulled away from their secluded cabin in the woods, but within walking distance to the Glendalough Hotel & Restaurant and other amenities scattered across the park's boundaries. Daniel already had some picnic spots in mind for the next day, weather permitting. He was glad Carolyn had left her heels at home because hiking would be involved in some of his plans for the next two days. He took boundless pleasure in knowing his Carolyn was amiable to any activity he or the children wanted to experience. She loved living an active lifestyle; a bike ride with the kids into town, a walk along a stretch of rugged Maine coastline or thrilling to an exhilarating sailboat ride with Daniel at the tiller and sea spray splashing her windswept face. She welcomed each experience as a chance not to be chained to her desk and typewriter, necessary as it once was to make her living. She was still adjusting to her new freedom of writing choices and no longer worried about paying the monthly bills.

Carolyn Gregg surveyed the small cabin and was very pleased with the accommodations. It was essentially a large bedroom featuring an enormous king-sized bed with an alcove-tucked kitchenette. The floor was beautiful oak hardwood with charming braided area rugs strategically placed around the room. There was also a fireplace for colder weather stays. The bath was small but functional for their short visit. She decided she had all she needed to be happy for a few days; comfortable privacy, peace of mind knowing her children were well taken care of and Daniel's undivided, loving attention. She stood looking out at the picture window, taking in the beauty of the blue lake as a gentle mist came rolling down from the surrounding green mountains. She sensed his presence before she felt his arms slip around her waist and pull her back against his chest. "It's so lovely, Daniel. Thank you for bringing me here," she murmured.

He began nuzzling her neck. "Not as lovely as you, my darling." He released one hand to pull the cord on the window drapes. They shut in a soft swish and the room grew sensuously dim. She reflexively angled her head to give him access to her throat. She hummed in pleasure at the sensations his lips were causing, finally she turned in his embrace, stood on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her mouth against his was soft, inviting and yielding to his tongue which begged for entrance. Daniel's urgent physical need for her matched Carolyn's own rising desire. They tumbled together on top of the welcoming bed where they spent the remainder of the afternoon wrapped in each other's arms reaffirming their passionate, loving devotion to each other.

The gloaming hours had begun when the couple finally stirred from their drowsy haze. "We'd better get up and get dressed if we hope to make a dinner seating," Carolyn mumbled against his shoulder, her fingers weaving across his chest hair in a lazy motion.

"Aye, love." His voice was barely audible.

Neither of them moved. Several long moments passed.

She opened one eye. "Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we going to get up?"

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Ladies first."

Carolyn smiled. "Nice try, Captain." She patted his chest. "Time to shake a leg, boyo."

He didn't budge.

She knew how to motivate her relaxed and reluctant husband of six months. She purposely gave him a playful body nudge and then rolled out of his arms and their bed. "Okay, then. That settles it. No more afternoon lovemaking for us. It zaps our strength and we become lethargic lumps." She only laughed when she heard his groan of protest as she stooped to retrieve her discarded clothing and enter the bathroom.

She heard but didn't bother to watch his reaction to her announcement. He bolted upright and scrambled from beneath the light blanket, "Blast! I'm up, woman! I'm up!"

A short while later they were following the hostess who was about to seat them at their table inside the Glendalough Hotel's fine dining restaurant. Carolyn's mothering instincts kicked in when she heard the familiar cry of a toddler. A young mother across from their assigned table had her hands full, literally. She had a baby in her arms and was attempting to do the impossible—getting her two-year-old son settled into a highchair. The child needed a nap more than Daniel had needed his. The little one was wailing in protest and letting all the folks in the restaurant know he was not a happy camper. Carolyn stepped over immediately after assessing the situation. "Need some help?" she offered with a friendly smile, one mom to another. She held out her arms for the infant.

The young mother's face registered relieved gratitude. "Would you mind? My husband took our five-year-old to the men's toilet and then this little chissler has decided to go collywobbles on me." She handed her baby to Carolyn. Carolyn impulsively began cooing softly to the baby girl and cuddling her close and stroking the infant's back in a soothing motion. "Thanks ever so much," the younger woman said as she managed to get her son positioned in the highchair and lowered the volume of his fussing. Carolyn handed the infant back to her mom with a sympathetic grin.

"Don't mention it. We've all been in that situation with kids at one time or another. It's a cliché but they call them the 'terrible twos' for a reason."

The young mother extended her hand to Carolyn. "I'm Addy, that there's my husband Donel coming over with our oldest Sean." She pointed across the dining room to the father and son coming towards the table, the little fellow clutching his father's hand tightly. Donel gave a little wave of greeting to Addy as they maneuvered across the crowded dining room.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Carolyn Gregg and this handsome fellow is my Daniel." The Captain nodded his head in greeting and came up to stand beside his wife.

"You have little ones yourself, do you?" Addy assumed.

Carolyn chuckled, "Well, yes. We have a boy and a girl but they're not so little anymore. Candy is ten and Jonathan is eight." More pleasantries were exchanged. During their brief conversation the Greggs learned Donel and Addy Fogerty and their three children were from Galway and staying at the hotel while their home was undergoing renovations. "Tis a bit of a lark, really," Donel explained. "This hotel is quite spendy for our budget. But I work for a restaurant supply company and they're footing the bill for our weekend stay if I keep a few sales appointments with the manager. What with the house in a shamble, well…things just worked out nice for a little getaway with the family."

"What a coincidence!" Carolyn mused. She summarized their vacation from renovations back in Maine.

Both couples wished each other a good evening and returned to their separate tables. Daniel did not fail to notice Carolyn's obvious joy as she held the baby. His memory replayed the Christmas dream he had once given her of holding the baby boy Claymore had dubbed "Slugger" in her arms and the radiant smile which had lit up her face. He also remembered her rapt interest in the article she was reading on the plane about toddlers and infants. He picked up the menu the hostess had left on their table. He knew what he wanted for his dinner but was completely undecided about whether to broach the subject of Carolyn having another child—his baby. Once again, his vacillation was curtailed. Again, this was not the time nor place to have such an intimate conversation. He could very well be letting his assumptions and imagination get the better of him. After all, Carolyn was 35 and couldn't remotely be thinking of having another baby, he reasoned to himself. He glanced up from his menu to smile at her and inquire what she fancied for dinner. But to his fond amusement he discovered she was using the menu card for a different purpose—playing a quiet game of peek-a-boo with a two-year-old little boy sitting in a highchair at the next table.