To Tempt Highland Fate (The Mac Coinnach Brothers) (71 page)

             
“Nothing… nothing’s wrong.   The baby’s… coming… oooooooohhhh!”

             
“Oh God!  Willa?  Are ye all right?  What do I do?  Tell me what to do!”

             
She doubled over again with a cry, and Drust leapt from the bed, grabbing a pair of braies and pulling the door open before he had even managed to get them on.

             
“Maggie!  Maggie!” he bellowed down the hallway.

             
Within moments Maggie appeared, already dressed and ready, with Faith right behind.

             
“What is it lad?”

             
He pushed the two women into the room ahead of him.  “The bairn.  Willa says the bairn is coming.  Do something!  Help her!”

             
“Really?  “Tis a couple of weeks early, by my count.”  Willa stifled a scream and then got up from the bed, leaning over it and panting.  “But I suppose the wee one canna count.”

             
Drust paced in front of the door, faster and faster.  Every cry from his wife’s lips was like a stab to the heart.  He could do nothing to help her.  He couldn’t take away her pain.  And she was dying.  She had to be dying, with the way she kept screaming and writhing on the bed.  She had been screaming all day long, and he could not comfort her.  When he tried, she had only cursed at him.  And there was blood on the sheets… so much blood.  Maggie and Faith were with her, holding her hands, helping her through the pain… but they didn’t look at him… they knew she was going to die and they couldn’t look at him.  Memories of another scene too much like this one flashed before his eyes, and suddenly he couldn’t stand it anymore.  He could not watch his wife die like this!  He left the room, running down the tower steps and out to the stables.  Even there, he could hear her cries from the open window, so he took a horse and rode away, fast and hard, as if he could outrun the crippling fear in his heart, and the certainty that he was about to lose everything.

             
“There now lass”, Maggie said.  “I can see the crown, ye’re nearly done!  The first bairn always takes the longest, and ye’ve been at it all day, ye poor thing.  Two more pushes now with the next pains, that’s all ye have to do and then ye can rest.”

             
Willa was exhausted, but so relieved to hear the end was in sight.  She glanced towards the door, where her husband had been nervously pacing most of the day.

             
“Where’s Drust?”  Her voice was gravelly from all the screaming, but the other women had encouraged her to let it all out.

             
Maggie tsked and shook her head.  “He left a while ago.  Couldn’t take it anymore, I expect.  Lasted longer than most men would, though.  It’s why most midwives dinna let the fathers stay in the room, they canna handle… och lass, push!  And once more! Another lad!  I was so wanting a little lass this time, but perhaps we’re destined to be forever overrun with Mac Coinnach men.”

             
Faith peered at the baby with a huge grin on her face, then squealed with delight and ran out of the room to spread the good news.

             
Maggie dried the baby and placed him on Willa’s chest, where he immediately stopped crying and looked up at her.

             
“Oh  Maggie, he’ s beautiful!  Perfect!  Look, his eyes are just like Drust’s, and he has his hair, too.”

             
“I dinna ken how ye can tell that lass, when he just looks all red and scrunchy to me.”  But there was genuine affection in her gaze.

             
There was a knock on the door, and Bren came in, carrying his own son cradled in one arm.

             
“Young Dru wants to meet his new cousin,”

             
Willa beamed up at him. 

             
“A boy.  A healthy boy.”

             
Bren grinned at the obvious joy on her face and leaned over to touch his new nephew’s tiny face with one finger.  “Aye, that he is.  My little nephew!  Congratulations, Willa, ye did well.”  His expression turned to a scowl.  “And now I will see about finding him his errant father.  I’m sorry lass, that my brother couldn’t see fit to attend the birth of his own son.”

             
A shadow passed across Willa’s face at the mention of Drust.  She had thought that he would be here, in the end.  But she understood why he wasn’t.  He was afraid.  Afraid of losing everything.  Had something happened to her, he would have blamed only himself.  And if she had died giving birth to his child, he would have grieved for the rest of his life.  It was impossible to know real fear until you had something to lose.  She looked up at Bren.

             
“No, wait.  Give him some time to come to me himself.  He will be fine, the moment he sees I’m all right.  The moment he lays eyes upon his son.  You’ll see.”

             
Bren looked down tenderly at his own son, asleep in his arms.  His scowl immediately softened into a smile.  “Aye, there is no miracle quite like seeing yer own child for the first time.  I’m happy that Drust will have that miracle too.  That our sons will grow strong together.  Two little warriors”

             
After a time, all of her company drifted away to find their beds, and Maggie tucked Willa in, laying the sleeping baby in the wooden cradle beside her.

             
“Try to sleep now, lass.  If ye need anything at all, ye must call me.  I’ll be just down the hall.”

             
“Thank you, Maggie” she yawned.  “Thank you for everything.” 

             
“Ah, lass, ‘twas all my pleasure.”

             
Willa was determined to stay awake until Drust came back, but her eyes were already closing.

              Much later, Drust gingerly opened the door to the room he shared with Willa, with his heart in his throat, and emotion and dread swirling in his mind.  He wasn’t ready to face this yet.  He had left when Willa needed him… left like the damned coward that he was.  He had ridden far out across the moor, farther than he had intended.  By the time he returned, darkness had fallen and the castle was quiet.  There were no cries of a woman birthing a babe, nor were there happy voices or the squalls of a newborn.  Fresh terror had seized him as he made his way to his chamber, even though he thought he had prepared himself for the worst.  His hand shook as he reached for the latch.

             
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and looked toward the bed… where Willa slept peacefully in the candle light, her cheeks glowing with health, and a serene smile curving her lips.  His heart melted with love for her.  His breath left his body in a spasm of relief.  Even so, he went to her and leaned close, feeling her soft breath against his cheek, and watching the rise and fall of her chest.  Thank God she was all right!   If anything had happened… He was ashamed, down to his very soul, that he had left her alone. He should have been strong enough to stay by her side.  Only, to see her in such pain, such
danger
, all because of
him
… it was too much.  But he was here now, and he would step up to his responsibilities.  He would do his best to be a father, even though the very idea terrified him. 

             
A father.

             
Was he?   Another wave of panic swept through him.  Was the babe all right?  He had come straight to Willa, with no other thought than whether she lived…

             
His eyes darted to the cradle next to the bed, where something wrapped in white swaddling began to squirm sleepily.  He stood frozen for a moment.  It had not seemed real, before.  But now there was a baby in the cradle by the bed. 
His child.
 

             
He leaned closer and looked in, and peering up at him with half-closed eyes was a tiny, perfect face.  He sucked in a little breath and just stared for a moment, entranced.  But then the baby scrunched up its face and made little mewling sounds as if it was about to cry.  Looking over to where Willa still slept, and not knowing what else to do, he leaned over and picked up the baby.  It was so small and fragile and it smelled like sweet, soft new life.  When he held it in his arms it quieted, and Drust felt something tighten in his chest to the point of almost breaking.  He knew now that it was love, because Willa has taught him such.  He smiled down at the baby, his insides feeling all warm and aching.

             
“I dinna even ken if yer a lad or a lass, do I?” he said softly.

             
He carefully sat down in an armchair with the baby on his lap and unwrapped part of the swaddling.

             
“Och, yer a little lad.  A son. 
My son
.”

             
He bundled the baby back up and cradled him to his chest again, humming softly, brushing his lips over the soft fuzz of dark hair on his son’s head.  By whatever miracle this was, he had never felt so happy and at peace in all his life.  To think he had tried to deny this life…

              Willa watched them through her lowered lashes, not wanting to interrupt the father and son bonding, but feeling the tears well up none the less.  Drust had never looked so handsome and she had never loved him more than at this moment, the way his whole face softened and glowed with love as he looked at his son.  God how she loved him!  Both of them.  Her men.  

Several months later…

              The door to the Hall opened, and Willa turned from where she was arranging flowers in a vase at the high table.  Maura and James were coming to visit, and she wanted everything to be just right when they arrived later that afternoon.  Drust breezed in, covered in sweat and dust from training with the other men.  Maggie was holding the baby, and when he caught site of Drust, he flailed his arms and screeched in excitement.  Drust laughed and went to sweep him out of Maggie’s arms, lifting him high over his head, grinning like an idiot at the delighted babyish giggles. 

             
Maggie put her hands on her hips, frowning.  “Drust Mac Coinnach!  Yer getting dust and dirt all over that bairn!  Hand him back to me.”  But a corner of her mouth quirked up; when Drust was not otherwise busy, his son was always in his arms.  She swore the babe would never learn to crawl at this rate!

             
“He doesna mind.  He’s a wee warrior, and we warriors
like
to be dirty.”

             
“Ye will give him his next bath then.”

              Noticing Willa near the table, he stopped to give her a kiss and a heated look that promised he would deal with her later.  Then he headed for the stairs, his son nestled against his chest, one chubby fist reaching for his father’s hair.

             
“Och, ye wee monster!  Dinna pull yer Da’s hair.”  He held the baby closer and kissed the top of his downy head.

             
Maggie sighed.  “Now
that
is a beautiful site.”