Not Another One!

For an instant, Artemis thought Sarah was going to attack Miranda. But then she noticed Sarah’s swollen belly and burst out laughing.

“What did I do?” Miranda gasped. “I only healed your stomach… Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. For twenty years, nothing, and now—”

“Calm down,” Artemis said between snickers. “It’s just one—”

“Mommy, are you mad at me?” A four-year-old with hair as red as Sarah’s tugged on her sleeve.

Sarah bent down and picked her up. “Miranda, honey, I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to your Aunt Miranda—and I wasn’t angry. I was just… excited to see her.”

“You sounded very excited.” The girl smiled, then turned to Miranda. “We have the same name! Your hair is white.”

“And your hair is red.” Miranda smiled back and touched the girl’s hair. “My best friend when I was little had hair like yours. Her name was Kelcie.”

“That’s wonderful,” Sarah deadpanned as she put her daughter down. “Why don’t you go back to Daddy while I finish talking to Aunt Miranda?”

“I don’t know what the fuss is all about,” Claudia said. “It’s just two. I had five. Talk about your—”

Artemis tugged on her mother’s arm and pointed as she held back the laughter, but not the tears in her eyes. “Meet Jeremy—Sarah’s hun.”

“Oh my.”

Jeremy walked up with a big smile on his face. A little red-haired girl sat on his shoulders, another rested in one arm, and a third held his hand.

The younger Miranda rushed up to him, pulling her namesake along. “Daddy! This is my Aunt Miranda! She has the same name as me!”

Sarah sighed. “He can’t even look at me funny without me getting pregnant.”

Atalanta put an arm around her shoulder. “Maybe he could stop.”

“Stop?”

“Stop—you know—looking at you funny.”

Sarah scoffed. “Like that’s going to happen.”

“Just take the herbs,” Daphne said.

“Herbs?” Atalanta and Sarah said together.

“Once a month—been taking them since I was sixteen. Miranda makes them.”

Sarah looked at Miranda. “You really are a doctor now?”

Miranda smiled. “I am.”

Atalanta looked at Daphne. “Since you were sixteen?”

Daphne smiled. “I have.”

Sarah looked between them. “And the herbs work?”

“Very well,” Daphne and Miranda said together.

“Well, that’s good to know.” Sarah smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it?” Artemis said. “You just yelled at Miranda!”

“She turned my life upside-down. I think I’m entitled to a little yelling.”

Then she pulled her daughter close and gave her a squeeze. “But I love my girls, and Jeremy is a great father. I’m not sure if I’m ready to stop—I’m only forty, after all.”

“You are an idiot.” Artemis smiled. “But it takes all kinds. So, what are the little brats’ names?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Well, this one on my shoulders is Artemis.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” Sarah smiled.

“Give her to me.”

Jeremy leaned down, and Artemis took the girl off his shoulders.

She held the little girl on her hip and smiled. “Ready to learn to shoot a bow?”

“Yes!”

“Not yet,” Sarah laughed. “And the one holding Jeremy’s hand is Atalanta.”

“Atalanta the Hero!” the little girl corrected.

Sarah leaned down to the girl. “See that tall woman with the sword and the pretty dress?”

The little girl nodded.

“She’s your Aunt Atalanta—the hero!”

The little girl rushed over to Atalanta, squealing. “Atalanta the Hero!”

“And the baby?” Daphne asked, trying to hold back her excitement.

Sarah picked up the girl from Jeremy’s arm. “This is Patricia.”

“Patricia?”

“Yes. She’s named after the silversmith’s wife. She helped me so much when I first arrived in Tigeria.”

“That’s thoughtful,” the crestfallen Daphne said, forcing a smile. “The silversmith’s wife.”

Just then, the tavern door opened, and the younger Miranda squealed, “Daphne!”

Daphne perked up for a moment, but it didn’t last long. The little girl shot past her.

When she returned, she was holding the hand of a brown-haired girl of the same age.

Miranda proudly introduced her aunts to the little girl. “The big one is my Aunt Atalanta, the little one is my Aunt Artemis, and the one with white hair is my Aunt Miranda.”

“The same as you!” the little girl chirped.

“Yes!” she beamed.

“And this is my Aunt Daphne.”

“Same as me!” the little girl squealed.

“Same as me,” Daphne whispered.

Just then, the peddler walked through the door arm in arm with a woman that Daphne instantly recognized.

“Daphne!” he called.

“Yes,” both Daphnes answered—and then laughed.

“You’ve met our little Daphne.” Rosalind smiled.

“You and the peddler?” Daphne asked.

“Yes.” Rosalind put her hand on his shoulder. “And he’s still not paying me what I’m worth.”

He took her hand. “I could steal all the gold from all the palaces on the continent and there still wouldn’t be enough.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Not another one.”

“They’re friends?” Daphne asked as she watched the two little girls run past.

“Since they were babies.” Rosalind smiled. “We’re just across the street—in the contract man’s old shop.”

“It’s our shop now!” the peddler beamed. “And we have two other shops—and a warehouse!”

“Business is booming!” Daphne laughed.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Rosalind gushed as she watched her daughter play with her friend.

“She is.” Daphne smiled. “And she has a good name—Daphne. The first flower of spring!”

“She isn’t named after the flower. She’s named after the hero.”

“Hero? I’m an apprentice. I haven’t even—”

“Five years ago, I was going to sign my life away. You saved me—not just me.” She looked toward the tables.

Daphne followed her eyes. She saw familiar faces, some with new families, talking and laughing.

Rosalind took Daphne’s hands in her own. “Our journey would have meant nothing if you had not been so smart, so brave—had you not been a hero.”

Daphne’s face pinkened.

“So our little Daphne has a lot to live up to.” She chuckled.

“Now I think I have a lot to live up to.” Daphne laughed.