Echoes From the Mist (35 page)

Bridget let out a surprised breath at the feeling of Faylinn’s stomach growing as tight as a drum under her palm. "Hang on, love." She felt useless and scared and wanted to kill her horse and…

Faylinn released a shaky breath as the contraction came to an end and the long arm that had wrapped around her to help her maintain her balance gave her a gentle squeeze. "God," she hissed, sweat dripping down her throat and disappearing behind her shirt.
That hurts!

Bridget heard the words in her own head. "I know," she soothed, pulling Faylinn close and saying a little prayer as she tried to calm her racing mind.
She has to be fine. She just has to. She deserves nothing less and I can’t… I won’t live without her.

Apollo came within twenty yards of the women before Jezebel stepped in front of him. They both stood motionless for several seconds before the white horse trotted up to his companion and rubbed his nose against her rear flanks. Jezebel moved forward a step or two and Apollo, like a lamb led to slaughter, was helpless to do anything but follow. He began sniffing her again, this time managing to do a much more thorough job.

"Uh oh." Faylinn recognized the foreplay instantly. "Bridget I think we can forget the horses for a—

"Bloody hell! Not now!" Bridget’s shocked and disgusted voice rang out so loudly it stopped the noisy chatter of nearby birds and buzzing of countless insects, bringing a blanket of utter silence over the clearing. All except for the grunting and snorting coming from the horses.

"Ewww." Faylinn turned away from the scene, the absurdity of this entire situation causing her to burst into unrestrained laughter. "It’s not as though you can compete with that for his attentions, love."

"I don’t believe this," Bridget ranted. Part of her wanted to go over and pull Apollo from Jezebel, another bigger part of her knew that now would be a dangerous time to interrupt them. Her eyes dropped back to Faylinn and she was unable to stop her smile. The younger woman was nearly hysterical with laughter.

Faylinn’s laughter stopped as another contraction hit and she tried to focus on Bridget’s voice as she rode out the pain in the safety of her arms.

"At least Apollo chose well for his final activity before I kill him," Bridget said quietly into Faylinn’s hair, feeling the smaller woman’s body tense against hers.

Faylinn groaned as she was torn between laughing and crying out. "Do-don’t make me laugh now," she said through gritted teeth.

"I’m sorry, love." But Bridget wasn’t in the least.

When the contraction finally passed, Faylinn looked up to see Apollo sliding off Jezebel’s back and stumbling away drunkenly. "God!"

Startled, Bridget jumped. "What? What is it?" Her eyes ran over every inch of Faylinn, searching desperately to see what was wrong.

"Already? I’m so glad I’m not a horse."

Bridget let out an unsteady breath, feeling lightheaded. "You are going to kill me, Faylinn Cobb. I swear you are." But now it was Bridget that couldn’t help but laugh at her lover’s exclamation. "C’mon, let me be your horse."

Faylinn put her hands on her hips. "What?"
You’d better not be suggesting what I think you are, Bridget Redding!

Bridget rolled her eyes. "Climb on my back, love." Her gaze shifted upwards. The sun had fully set, its last golden rays streaking across the horizon. "It’ll be harder for me to see where I’m going in the dark."

"I— Owww!" Another pain gripped her. "I don’t know if I can."

Bridget nodded, and when Faylinn’s wild panting began to subside she kneeled down in front of her. "Here. Just lean across me…. that’s it." She tightly grasped Faylinn’s wrists, and stood slowly with the pregnant woman draped over her back. "Good Lord," she grunted under the shorter woman’s weight as she began to walk. "Ouch!" Faylinn’s knee somehow ‘bumped’ her kidney.

"Don’t make me kill you now, Bridget. I was just starting to think you might live through this."

Bridget didn’t answer, instead she concentrated on taking slow steady steps and avoiding any potholes in the waning light. The sounds of the field seemed to intensify as she walked, Faylinn’s heavy breathing blending with the chirping crickets and the thumping her own labored footsteps.

Faylinn laid her face against dark hair and tried her best to wrap her legs around Bridget’s waist to make it easier. She could feel another contraction coming and tried to hang on through it, but it was too strong. "Stop, Bridget," she gasped. "Stop!"

Bridget immediately dropped to her knees, wincing as they hit the ground.

Faylinn pushed off her back and doubled over, almost managing to stifle a cry of pain as another contraction seized her, making her feel as though her body was being torn in two. Her face was flushed and her skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Bridget laid a comforting hand on her back and the blonde woman reached for it blindly, threading their fingers together and gripping it tightly as the pain swept over her. She could feel herself opening up and the pressure mounting between her legs.

They repeated this procedure again and again until it was fully dark and Bridget stumbled the last few steps to the sturdy-looking cabin. Its two rooms, a bedroom and slightly larger common room, shared a stone fireplace. The only thing not completed was the roof, which consisted of a crisscross of wooden rafters. With an enormous breath, Bridget lowered herself to the ground. Both women rolled on to their backs panting, but for different reasons. The dark-haired woman caught her breath long before Faylinn did and stumbled tiredly to her feet. "I’ll go back for our gear."

"No!" Faylinn shook her head wildly, feeling a sudden surge of panic. "Don’t leave me." She could hear Bridget swallow loudly and felt herself being pulled to her feet. This time she was cradled in Bridget’s warm arms like a baby and carried into the cabin. It was empty except for a large bird’s nest sitting in the middle of the floor and a partially constructed door for the bedroom that had been left leaning against the common room wall.

Bridget’s boots sounded loud against the wooden slats and she tightened her arms around Faylinn when another contraction racked her small form. "Here we are. Welcome home," she joked faintly, worry coloring her words. She shifted Faylinn until her feet hit the ground. "Wait here."

Faylinn wrapped her arms around herself. It had gotten cooler with the disappearance of the sun and goosebumps broke out all over her body even though she was sweating. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, hearing Bridget stalk across the room followed by the rustling of cloth. Then a hand was grasping hers and leading her over to a pile of soft furs that had been spread out on the floor.

"I need to get these trousers off!" Her voice held a note of rising panic. "The baby— Oh, God!" She clutched her stomach.

"I know. I know. I’m trying." Frantic hands pulled off Faylinn’s boots and stockings. Bridget tossed them aside and set to work peeling off her wet trousers, trying her best not to think about why they were wet so she wouldn’t be sick on their bedroom floor. "Okay, there," Bridget mumbled to herself, but Faylinn was already sinking into the furs.

Faylinn was panting and Bridget pushed sweaty bangs from her forehead. "I’m thirsty," she said softly and the older woman cursed herself for not thinking to bring the water bladder.

Bridget stroked Faylinn’s eyebrows tenderly. "Let me go get it. I can run and will only be gone a minute. All right?"

Faylinn’s face was still for a moment as she considered telling Bridget not to go, but her dry throat got the best of her and she gave her a short nod. "Hurry."

"I’ll be right back," Bridget whispered, fervently. "I swear."

"I know—" Bridget surprised her by kissing her firmly on the mouth before bolting from the bedroom.

Outside the cabin stood Jezebel and Apollo, contentedly chewing at the thick carpet of early summer grass. "There you are, my soon-to-be-dead horse!" Bridget grabbed Apollo’s mane roughly and pulled herself up onto his back. A swift kick sent him galloping up the hill towards the saddlebags. "Faster," she urged him and the horse responded instantly, his powerful legs touching the ground so briefly that for a moment Bridget felt as though she was flying.

Panting, Faylinn tried to relax as the pain of another contraction subsided. She tilted her head back and looked up between the rafters into a blanket of twinkling stars. A tiny white light shot across the sky leaving a trail behind it that sparkled like diamonds for just an instant before it was gone. She closed her eyes in wonderment, a smile tugging at her lips as she made a wish. The confusion and near desperation she’d felt during Bridget’s long walk to the cabin began to ease and she found herself better able to focus. "You’ve done this before, Faylinn. You can do it again," she told herself.

Knowing it was nearly time, she spread and hitched up pale legs, the soft fur tickling the bottoms of her bare feet. The urge to push was growing stronger and just as she felt another contraction, Bridget burst into the room and set the saddle bags behind her back, giving her something to lean against.

Blue eyes gone silver in the moonlight dropped to the spot between Faylinn’s legs. She let out an explosive breath
. I’m not too late.
Thank God.
"Are you doing all right?" Bridget brought the water bladder to Faylinn’s parched lips and the younger woman sucked greedily, having to stop when another contraction assaulted her.

"Oh," Faylinn murmured in pure relief when the contraction ended. "I am now." She took another drink, then passed the bladder back to Bridget. "I missed you."

Bridget drank deeply then set the bladder down within reach before scooting next to Faylinn on the edge of the pile of furs. Then she reached back into their bags and pulled out a candle and flints. After a few tries the candle lit and she placed it just out of Faylinn’s reach so she wouldn’t accidentally burn herself. It cast the room in long shadows and illuminated Faylinn’s tired face. "I missed you too." When she looked back at Faylinn their eyes met and the exchange of emotion was palpable. They each held the other’s gaze and traded nervous but loving smiles.

"You look worse than I do," Faylinn said softly, her palm cupping Bridget’s dirty cheek.

Bridget leaned into the touch and laughed quietly, knowing she was drenched in sweat and filthy from chasing Apollo. "Then I’m in luck. Because you look beautiful," she answered sincerely, running her fingers through Faylinn’s damp hair.

Pale brows creased for just a second, then Faylinn brought Bridget’s hand to her lips and kissed it softly. Her eyes never left Bridget’s and her voice was the barest of whispers. "Tha mise Faylinn a-nis 'gad ghabhail-sa Bridget gu bhith 'nam chéile phòsda." Faylinn’s grandfather had taught her the language of her people as a child and she smiled at the bewildered look on Bridget’s face.

Bridget shook her head. "I-I don’t know more than a few words of Gaelic, Faylinn."

"Shh…" Faylinn kissed her hand again. "I know." Then she softly repeated the words in English. "I, Faylinn, take you, Bridget, to be my wife." Bridget’s eyes went wide as saucers but before she could say a word Faylinn explained, "I won’t have this baby born a bastard, Bridget."

Bridget opened her mouth a second time, but again Faylinn beat her to the punch. "I know technically that wouldn’t be true. But you’ll help me raise this child, not Cyril." Heart thumping, she searched Bridget’s eyes. "It’s your words I want to hear. I know it won’t be legal and is probably a sacrilege unto itself. But I want it anyway. I want you."
Please.

Bridget swallowed past the lump in her throat and her eyes grew moist. "I want you too," she said hoarsely. "You know that."

Faylinn nodded, feeling the ragged edges of another contraction, and she spoke quickly but with such astounding conviction that Bridget held her breath as she listened. "Cho fad's a bhios an dìthis againn beò." She repeated it in English. "For as long as we both shall live."

Bridget wasn’t sure she could speak, so she nodded.

"I wo-won’t say ‘gus an dèan Dia leis a' bhàs ar dealachadh’, Bridget." She closed her eyes as the contraction hit her full force. "Because I won’t agree to be separated from you, even in death." She whipped her head back and her hands shaped white-knuckled fists. "I need to push!"

Bridget’s mind was awhirl, but she positioned herself between Faylinn’s legs, seeing the crown of the baby’s head through a thin layer of mucus. "The baby’s coming!"

"You’re telling me this?" Faylinn shouted angrily, as she began pushing, grunting with the force of her efforts. Her thighs quivered helplessly and she couldn’t stop it now even if she’d wanted to. Which she certainly didn’t.

"That’s it, Faylinn," Bridget encouraged, her face showing her wonder. "She’s almost here."

With a mighty yell, Faylinn gave a final push and tiny shoulders slipped free, sending the squirming baby into Bridget’s waiting hands. She gasped at the searing pain and then at its almost magical absence as soon as the baby left her body.

"Good Lord!" Bridget fumbled the slippery infant, speechless as she looked at its wrinkled, red body.

"Bridget?" Faylinn said nervously, leaning forward to see. "What’s—?"

The tall woman smacked the baby soundly on its bottom, earning a faint, choking cough and then a loud, lusty cry.

"Thank God." Faylinn nearly cried in relief, dropping back against the saddlebags so she wouldn’t pass out.