Page 28 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
Callum sucked in a breath. “Yer granddaughter? She’s barely nineteen.”
“Yes. Married last year, welcoming their first babe. Her husband is in a state. And her mother, my Anna… well, she’s fit for nothing at the moment.” Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, and his hand shook. “I’d hoped some of the apprentices would be back.”
“I can help ye,” Ava heard herself say.
Arthur shot her a quick, incisive look. “You have attended childbirths before?”
“Many of them. I wasnae the midwife, but I have confidence that I can help. How far do we have to travel?”
“The village is only two miles to the east,” Callum spoke up. “By horseback, it willnae take us long at all to reach it.”
Arthur was still looking at Ava, his eyes shadowed and unreadable. She got the impression that he wasreadingher, reading her thoughts as if they were scrolling across her forehead.
Male healers weren’t common, as far as she could tell. Healing required an innate knowledge ofpeopleand human nature and a sort of bone-deep kindness and empathy. Most men lacked those skills, even if they had the intelligence to memorize the herbs and their uses and remember tricks and methods taught to them.
The male healers that Ava had met were always rather… well, remarkable. Arthur struck her as one of those remarkable folks. Insightful, emotional, and with a razor-sharp wit and intelligence.
“You are the Laird’s betrothed,” Arthur said softly. “Help from strange quarters, indeed. Why would you bother yourself with the birth of a babe you have never heard of, born to a woman you’ve never met?”
She flashed a brittle smile and held out green-tinged fingers. “Because I’m a healer, of course.”
That, it seemed, was the right answer. Arthur gave her a wide, sincere smile that revealed a missing tooth at the side of his jaw and stripped at least ten years off his face.
“Then I would be honored to have your help, Lady Ava. If you agree, My Laird.”
Callum, who had gone back to lounging against the doorway and watching them impassively, gave a chuckle. “I’ve no objections. Besides, it’s bold of ye to think I could stop her from doing anything once she’d set her mind to it.”
Arthur chuckled. Snatching up a basket, he tore around the chamber, picking up herbs, tools, and vials, muttering to himself as he went. As soon as his back was turned, Callum crossed the space immediately, close enough to fill Ava’s personal space with his height and breadth, and she breathed in woodsmoke and crushed grass.
“I hoped to talk to ye,” he said, his voice low, even though Arthur couldn’t hear them, “about what happened earlier. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I think we should discuss it more. I dinnae want ye to feel unsafe here in the Keep. Around me.”
Ava avoided his eyes, preferring instead to slip the Indian saffron into her pocket. She didn’t want to forget that, after all.
“It’s kind of ye to think of me,” she said lightly, “but now is nae the time.”
“In me experience, a person has to make time to discuss what is important.”
She shrugged, still avoiding his eyes. “Aye, perhaps so, but right now, there’s a woman in labor who is suffering and a baby who needs saving. I have other priorities than ye, Callum McAdair. We’ve got greater things to discuss than a kiss, dinnae ye think?”
Callum blinked as if not expecting her to be so forthright. For a moment, Ava thought she’d gone too far.
“Aye,” he said, after a moment. “Aye, that’s right. I’ll take ye out to the village. Collect what ye need, and I’ll get a horse and cart ready. I’ll meet ye in the courtyard in ten minutes.”
“Agreed,” she said shortly. “Ten minutes.”
9
“Brigit, I need ye to stop pushing.Stop pushing,” Ava said, breathless and tired.
They’d been in the tiny hut for about an hour, but it felt like forever. Brigit was a diminutive, pretty woman with large eyes and a mane of black hair, seeming like a more colorful version of Arthur. He was propping her up in a squatting position, over the birthing stool, his arms wrapped around her shoulders to give her support.
Brigit panted like a wounded animal, her face screwed up, her gaze inward-looking.
Together, Ava and Arthur had prepared a tea to smooth along the labor. They were making progress, but the baby was still the wrong way round. And now, it seemed to be stuck.
A tap sounded at the door.
“Ava? Arthur?” Callum called, his voice muffled.
