Page 51 of Charmed
“Nash, I don’t mean to interfere, but wouldn’t you feel better—safer—if Morgana was in a hospital, with adoctor and all that handy medical business?”
“A hospital? No.” Nash rubbed a hand over his face. “Morgana was born in that same bed. She wouldn’t have it any other way with the twins. I guess I wouldn’t, either.”
“Well, a doctor, then.”
“Ana’s the best.” Remembering that relaxed him slightly. “Believe me, Morgana couldn’t be in better hands than hers.”
“I know midwives are supposed to be excellent, and more natural, I imagine.” He moved his shoulders. If Nash was content with the situation, it wasn’t up to him to worry about it. “I guess she’s done it before.”
“No, this is Morgana’s first time.”
“I meant Ana,” Boone said on a chuckle. “Delivering babies.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. She knows what she’s doing. It’s not that. In fact, I think I’d go crazy if she wasn’t here. But—” He took another swallow, paced a little more. “I mean, this has been going on for hours. I don’t know how she can stand it. I don’t know why any woman stands it. Just seems to me she could do something about it. Damn it, she’s a witch.”
Manfully masking another chuckle, Boone gave Nash an encouraging pat on the back. “Nash, it’s not a good time to call her names. Women get a little nasty when they’re in labor. They’re entitled.”
“No, I mean—” He broke off, realizing he was going over the edge. “I’ve got to pull myself together.”
“Yep.”
“I know it’s going to be all right. Ana wouldn’t let anything happen. But it’s so hard to watch her hurting.”
“When you love someone, it’s the hardest thing in the world. But you get through it. And, in this case, you’re getting something fantastic out of it.”
“I never thought I could feel this way, about anybody. She’s everything.”
“I know what you mean.”
Feeling better, Nash passed the snifter back to Boone. “Is that how it is with Ana?”
“I think it might be. I know she’s special.”
“Yeah, she is.” Nash hesitated, and when he spoke again he chose his words with care. Loyalty, split two ways, was the heaviest of burdens. “You’d be able to understand her, Boone, with your imagination, your way of looking beyond what’s considered reality. She is a very special lady, with qualities that make her different from anyone you’ve ever known. If you love her, and you want her to be a part of your life and Jessie’s, don’t let those qualities block you.”
Boone’s brows drew together. “I don’t think I’m following you.”
“Just remember I said it. Thanks for the drink.” He took a steadying breath, then went back in to his wife.
Chapter 9
“Breathe. Come on, baby, breathe!”
“I am breathing.” Morgana grunted out the words between pants and couldn’t quite manage to glare at Nash. “What the hell do you call this if it’s not breathing?”
Nash figured he was past his own crisis point. She’d already called him every name in the book, and had invented several more. Ana said they were nearly there, and he was clinging to that as desperately as Morgana was clinging to his hand. So he merely smiled at his sweaty wife and mopped her brow with a cool cloth.
“Growling, spitting, snarling.” He touched his lips to hers, relieved when she didn’t bite him. “You’re not going to turn me into a slug or a two-headed newt, are you?”
She laughed, groaned, and let out the last puff of air. “I can come up with something much more inventive. I need to sit up more. Ana?”
“Nash, get in the bed behind her. Support her back. It’s going to go quickly now.” Arching her own back, which echoed the aches in Morgana’s, she checked one last time to see if all was ready. There were blankets warmed by the fire, heated water, the clamps and scissors already sterilized, the glow of crystals pulsing with power.
Bryna stood by her daughter’s side, her eyes bright with understanding and concern. Images of her own hours in that same bed fighting to bring life into the world raced through her head. That same bed, she thought, blinking at the mist in her eyes, where her child now labored through the last moments, the last pangs.
“No pushing until I tell you. Pant. Pant,” Ana repeated as she felt the contraction build within herself—a sweet and terrible pang that brought fresh sweat to her skin. Morgana stiffened, fought off the need to tense, and struggled to do as she was told. “Good, good. Nearly there, darling, I promise. Have you picked out names?”
“I like Curly and Moe,” Nash said, panting right along with Morgana until she managed to jab him weakly with an elbow. “Okay, okay, Ozzie and Harriet, but only if we have one of each.”
