Page 29 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
Brigit’s husband, a doe-eyed man by the name of Tammy, was too hysterical, and the space was too small, so Callum was distracting him and the rest of the locals while Ava and Arthur did as best they could.
“How is it coming along? Do ye need anything?”
“More rags, clean cloths, hot water,” Ava responded automatically. “Mint tea for us all, I think.”
“I’m not thirsty,” Brigit panted.
“Ye need to keep yer strength up. Arthur, I need to turn the baby.”
Arthur clicked his tongue. “Do it now.”
“Aye, I will. Brigit, dinnae push. Ye hear me? Dinnae push until I tell ye.”
Brigit nodded, her face white, her lips pressed into a thin line. Ava counted her heartbeats. By the time she reached thirty, the baby was pointing in the right direction.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Push now, Brigit.”
“I can’t.”
“Ye can, lassie, ye can. Ye are stronger than ye think. Is she nae, Arthur?”
“She is, she is,” Arthur assured, brushing sweaty strands of hair back from Brigit’s face.
“Go on, Brigit,” Ava said, her teeth gritted. “Push.”
* * *
Tensions were high. The air crackled with fear and worry, and frankly, Callum didn’t blame them. Arthur had a large family, and a good third of the village was related to Brigit. The rest were all friends who’d likely known her since she was a child.
Death by childbirth was always a horrifying thing. Even with Ava and Arthur’s expertise, it didn’t look good.
Callum did what he could to keep their spirits up. Nobody was in the mood for jokes, of course, or even conversation, but he made plenty of hot tea and tried to keep their minds off things.
The screaming had died down for ten minutes or so, and poor Tammy was all but sobbing. The door creaked open, and Ava appeared. She looked exhausted, strands of fire-red hair trailing down her shoulder, her gown irreparably stained.
“It’s a wee lassie,” she said. “Babe and maither are well.”
A cheer broke out. Tammy burst into tears, flinging his arms around Callum and squeezing him tight.
Callum grinned, feeling weak with relief. For a moment, he wasn’t Laird McAdair, in charge of the well-being of all these people. He was just a young man whose betrothed had saved a struggling mother and baby, and he was one of them. He was happy, he was proud, and he was ordinary.
Ava met his eye over the heads of the crowd, and there was something strange in her gaze. He smiled back at her, and she broke out into a tired grin.
Tammy’s mother, a distinguished woman with a head of iron-gray hair, got to her feet and clapped her hands together to get their attention.
“This calls for celebration,” she said firmly. “Lady Ava, is Brigit able to come out?”
“Aye, in a few hours, I reckon.”
“Well, ye cannae leave without good food and drink and some music. We’re celebrating. We’re celebrating!”
A cheer broke out, and Tammy went scuttling past Ava to see his wife and new baby.
A flash of envy shot through Callum. What must it be like to have such a loving family? To have adoring parents, a wife he loved, and a new baby?
Not for ye, lad.This isnae for ye.
His feet carried him forward, towards Ava.
