Hello Again yall!

I hope you enjoy the final installments for Shield's Bride. Thank you all for the reviews and comments on the tale. Bless it be!

Selene Grace

Serena must have imagined that heated look in Darien's eyes. He stepped past her, his "'scuse me" barely audible.

Once they were alone in the kitchen, Raye gently nudged the swinging door closed, assuring them even more privacy. "Talk about some serious vibes," she murmured as she slid the butcher's knife out of Serena's hand and replaced it with the head of lettuce she'd just washed. "Tear that up instead," she suggested. "Safer than having you cut off a finger."

Serena's fingers tightened, easily reducing the head into quarters. "He has a helluva nerve," she muttered.

Raye's eyebrows lifted. "Why's that?"

"Coming into the home yesterday. Kissing me senseless. Then apologizing." Bits of lettuce flew as she tossed bite-size pieces into the salad bowl that Raye had set out.

"The nerve, indeed."

"And Diamond with his stupid comments. I swear, Raye, I'm beginning to think moving away from Weaver might just be a good idea. There's an opening at the Braden post office. I saw the notice today."

Raye looked startled. "You don't really mean that, do you? Weaver's your home."

Serena's shoulders slumped. "No. I don't really mean it. Oh, why did Diamond have to come back now of all times?"

"Maybe it's high time he did," Raye said softly.

"I…what?"

Her friend shrugged, looking faintly apologetic. "If it makes you and Darien wake up to each other, then I can only think that's a good thing." She tossed tomato wedges into the salad bowl and reached for a cucumber. "You said yourself that you were in love with your husband, Serena. Maybe it's time you told him so. Particularly considering the circumstances." Her voice was pointed as her gaze flicked to Serena's midriff.

Serena sank down onto the bar stool. "How'd you guess? Did Patricia tell you?"

"Of course she didn't. Just because she's my sister-in-law doesn't mean she'd break a confidence with a patient." Raye poured a glass of lemonade and set it in front of Serena. "I recognized some of the signs. That fainting episode, for one thing. And you have that look."

"Great," Serena laughed brokenly, her forehead pressed to her palm. "Pretty soon the whole town'll know, too. Seeing as how it's so obvious to others."

"Obvious to me," Raye chided gently. "You know that you must tell Darien."

"I know. I know. Things are just such a mess."

"Then put on some gloves and clean up the mess. You know I used to envy you, Serena. Because you had so much more freedom when we were kids than I did. Gram was so strict about everything. My dress, school, church, my friends."

"Your grandmother cared." Serena said. "My mother—before she died—didn't much care what I did as long as it didn't interfere with the path to her gin bottle."

"What I failed to realize when we were kids, though, was that what I perceived as your freedom was far outweighed by the responsibilities you bore. And for whatever reason, it's left you feeling like you're undeserving of the love that any wife should feel right in expecting from her husband."

"Just because you and Justin didn't start your marriage under the best of circumstances yet are now as happy as two pups in clover doesn't mean that is going to occur for Darien and I. We've been married years, Raye. Don't you think that if he…loved—" she had to push out the word "—me, he'd have said something by now?"

Raye picked up the salad bowl and headed toward the swinging door. "I don't know, sweetie. You love him, but it doesn't seem like you've ever told him that."

Mattie sat between Serena and Darien at the table. She was so clearly delighted to have her parents together that it made Serena's heart ache. As a result, she was barely able to swallow more than a few bites of the delicious meal that Raye had prepared.

Afterward, Raye plopped the baby on her lap into his playpen and began tidying up the dishes. She pushed a stack of plates into her husband's hands and looking rather amused, he followed her into the kitchen.

Leaving Serena and Darien alone.

Mattie had already been excused and was fiddling with some new high-tech gadget of Justin's in the great room just a bit beyond the dining room.

Serena stifled a sigh and looked down at little Erik in the playpen, smoothing her fingers over his soft cheek. About six months old now, he was a happy baby with his mother's violet eyes and his father's striking features. He grabbed her finger and chattered nonsensically.

She couldn't help but wonder what traits her child would carry. How would her and Darien's genes combine together in the life they'd created? Would the baby have Darien's beautiful stormy blue eyes? Her blonde hair? Or would their child resemble his sister Mattie, who—except for eyes—looked so much like Darien that people often remarked on the striking resemblance?

"You always did look good with a baby in your arms."

Darien's voice startled her. He'd sounded positively pained. "You make that sound like a bad thing," she said. His lean jaw was so tight it looked white beneath the permanent bronzing caused by hours and hours spent beneath the Wyoming sun.

His thumb was working the edge of the label free from the bottle of beer he'd barely touched. "Just a fact."

Had he figured out that she was pregnant with his child? "Darien—"

He suddenly pushed to his feet. "At least you'll be able to have more when you and Diamond get married."

Her jaw dropped. She very nearly shook her head to shake loose the buzzing that followed hard on the heels of his words. She rose and settled Erik on his colorful quilt that was spread on the floor. Painfully aware of Mattie who was still within earshot, she pushed an angry finger against Darien's hard chest. "You may not want me any longer," she hissed, "but coming up with that stupid statement is really low, Darien."

He circled her wrist with one hand, easily pulling her finger away from drilling a hole right through his gray shirt. "And denying it serves no purpose, either," he said flatly. "He came out to the house, today, Serena. I know all about it."

Her fingers curled and she twisted her hand, but he held her fast. "Know all about what?"

"He told me all about the wedding plans. Don't pretend you don't know."

If Diamond was up to mischief, Serena didn't know what she'd do to him. But she promised herself it would be slow and very, very painful. What hurt, however, was the evidence that Darien could so easily discard her. "If he's making wedding plans," she said thickly, "they're not with me."

Then she called to Mattie and told her it was time for them to leave. It should have come as no surprise that she didn't want to go.

She stood there, looking at the two Shields—one young and defensive, one mature and intense and utterly, impossibly unreadable—and felt all her self-defenses crumble.