Free His Heart's Home by Stephanie Sterling Page A

the boys were all tucked into the wagon before she walked back toward the flames.
    Most of the men had gathered off to one side, where LaSoeur and Duncan seemed to be having some sort of fight.
    Nothing new there, Ciaran thought, and set about getting Mary to nurse. The baby, unlike her brothers, was blissfully unaware of the day’s events. She latched on hungrily and began to feed while her mother rocked her gently back and forth.
    Ciaran’s thoughts began to wander again, thinking back over her life with Sean. He hadn’t seemed so bad in the beginning. When he’d come to fetch her off the boat he seemed handsome and kind , but she knew, as soon as she walked into the house, something was wrong.
    The first Mrs. Connelly, her predecessor, looked old beyond her years. At first, Ciaran hadn’t understood why the woman was so reclusive and withdrawn, but then she had heard the first beating. Ciaran had stayed awake in her bed, horrified by the sounds, shocked by what she learned of Sean, but she forgave him the following day. He was an angel to the whole family: playing with the boys (Ryan and Avery were both so young then!), bringing flowers and a new packet of pins to his wife. That was the night he had called Ciaran into his study and tried to explain.
    He poured her a glass of wine. Ciaran had never had anything but beer or watered-down whisk ey before. She liked the sweet taste, the warmth it spread in her belly, and how it helped her to relax. Sean made it all make sense. He told her how withdrawn his wife was, how cold and uncaring, how she made him lose his temper and how lonely he was in the face of her rejection.
    Ciaran thought it was strange when he wound his arm around her shoulder, but it was faintly thrilling too. Growing up in a house with fifteen other children, she had never been the focus of anyone’s attention before, and she liked it more than she should.
    Sean spoke to her again the following evening, and the evening after that. The conversations were casual and friendly. What she’d told Duncan wasn’t a lie. Sean wasn’t a completely bad man. He had interests and talents. The silver that he’d fashioned before he turned into a drunkard was renowned for its craftsmanship. She had liked him, and she thought it would be good to have a friend, but then he had kissed her.
    Ciaran didn’t think she could tell him no .
    She knew it was wrong , terribly wrong, when he had placed his lips on hers, and even worse when he put his tongue in her mouth. She tried to avoid him whenever possible, but things didn’t get better, they only got worse.
    Ciaran cringed when she thought back to how he had stolen her innocence. He was deep in his cups that night.  He barged through the front door, sopping wet from the rain, berating her for not bringing supper and letting the fire burn down in his room. He had pushed her across the desk before she knew what was happening.
    Mrs. Connelly didn’t know at first, although, it had been torture for Ciaran to face her the following day. After the first time, Sean came to Ciaran more and more frequently. She tried to act like nothing had happened, even though her conscience was eating her up inside.  If her mistress had any suspicions about where her husband slept at night, she didn’t voice them - although, she couldn’t have been so blind not to notice when Ciaran’s belly began to grow.
    Mary’s soft gurgle interrupted Ciaran’s musings, and she looked gratefully at her little girl. Mary was beautiful. Aidan and Liam were too. It almost didn’t seem possible her three wonderful children had been sired by a man like Sean. She wished they belonged to someone else.
    Ciaran squelched th e thought before it could be fully formed and looked around for distraction. She found it almost immediately - the men by the campfire were still arguing. She was startled by the sound of her name.
    “… Connelly’s back with the Munro’s!”
    “There’s nothing for them to go