“If I didn’t love you already, that statement right there would have sealed the deal.” He gazed down at the baby. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to love this little lady, too.” In fact, he was almost positive he couldn’t love her any more than he did at this moment. “What are we going to name her?”
“Sure. Now you want to talk about names,” Elizabeth said, which made him feel guilty, even though she was teasing. He’d avoided the subject for weeks. He hadn’t been able to get his head past all the worry, and yet, she’d been amazingly patient and understanding with him. He’d married a saint.
“I have a few suggestions, but I want to hear your thoughts on it, first,” she added.
His thoughts were a mess. He struggled to collect them so that they’d make sense. “She’s the first in the family to be born with the O’Connell name. She’s also a first-generation Montanan. She deserves to have something original—all her own—to go with the other firsts. I don’t want her to be touched by either of our pasts, so sorry, I don’t want to name her after any family members. I want her name to represent the future. Okay. Those are my thoughts. Let’s hear your suggestions.”
“I suspected you might feel that way, and I took it into consideration. How about Naomi Mathilda?” Elizabeth said. She could barely keep her eyes open. “Naomi means sweetness, beauty, and gentleness. And Mathilda means strength—because she’s going to have to be tough to grow up on the Endeavour Ranch.”
“Clever. You managed to name her after yourself.” He kissed her, mindful of the tiny bundle he held. “Naomi Mathilda O’Connell it is. The Endeavour won’t know what hit it. Get your rest, beautiful. As soon as we get the okay, I’m taking you both home.”