Page 107 of Unraveled By the Rebel

“She’s a darling wee bairn.” Bridget smiled. “A little bruised, but she should be fine.”

Juliette reached out to touch her daughter, and a tear spilled down one cheek. “She’s beautiful.”

But though she marveled at the tiny life, a dizziness took hold, causing the room to dip. “You’d better take her, Paul,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I need to… rest now.”

She felt the strength slipping away from her, while Bridget claimed the baby.

“Juliette, no. Don’t give in. Look at me,” Paul demanded. “I had to cut you to keep you from tearing too much. You need to deliver the afterbirth, and then I’m going to sew you up again to stop the bleeding.”

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

“And you can sleep all you want, later. Right now, you’re going to push a little more.”

“I can’t.”

“Aye, you can.” He manipulated her womb, and she winced at the pain. “You’ve endured more than any other woman I know, and it’s made you stronger. You can get through a little more, and then you’ll hold our bairn.”

She gritted her teeth as he helped her deliver the afterbirth, and soon enough, he began stitching her up. “We’ll have to come up with a name. Have you any you’d like?”

“Grace,” she murmured. “I always liked that name.”

“Grace Fraser, she shall be,” he promised. “She’ll be a sweet one, won’t she? She has my eyes, I think.”

“All babies have blue eyes,” Bridget said. “Though you can be believing that if you like. She has her mother’s bonny face, too.” The older woman’s face held joy, and she wiped a tear away.

Juliette fought to keep her eyes open, but she endured the stitching until Bridget came to sit by her, holding the baby close, asking, “Your first birth was hard, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “The midwife told me I would never have another child. I had such a terrible fever afterward, I nearly died from it.”

“But the labor,” Bridget said, “was it much like this one?”

Juliette tried to think back. “It took much longer, and I kept bleeding. I don’t remember much except that.”

“I don’t think the midwife stitched you up after,” Bridget said. “It sounds as if she was naught more than a butcher.” She leaned over and showed Juliette her daughter. The tiny rosebud mouth and the serious blue eyes stared back at her. “Ye did well enough in your labor, my lamb. If it’s more children you’re wanting, there’s naught to stop you from it. A breech birth happens from time to time, but ye both are fine.”

Juliette took her baby back into her arms. “We are, yes.” From deep within, the sharp flare of hope broke through her. Seeing her baby daughter alive and well brought a joy that she’d never expected. This tiny new life belonged to her and Paul. Nothing would ever part them.

Her heart ached with such love, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.

Bridget smiled warmly. “I’ll get you some healing herbs to help with the pain, and you can have some time with your husband and daughter.” She departed the room, leaving them alone.

Paul washed his hands again and came to sit by her. He put his arm around Juliette, holding her and their new daughter. “I told you I would take care of you.”

“You were right,” she admitted. “I was so afraid, after the last time. I believed the midwife when she said I’d never have another child.”

Paul touched their daughter’s head, offering, “I hated seeing you in pain. I might’ve delivered seventeen… well, eighteen babies,” he amended. “But it’s no’ the same as seeing your wife suffer.”

He kissed Grace’s head and then kissed Juliette’s cheek. “I would have done anything to save you both.”

“And you did,” she whispered, pulling him back for a longer kiss. The happiness went so deep, Juliette reached for his hand. For a moment, she smiled up at him, marveling that they had endured so much together. Letting go of her son was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she knew that Matthew was well and happy. And although her son would follow a different path, one day, he would know the truth—that she’d wanted to give him a chance at his own happiness.

She touched Grace’s tiny head and looked up at Paul. “I never imagined it was possible to feel this way.” Paul had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. She loved this man so much, it hurt to imagine a single moment without him.

“I did,” he admitted. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you. I knew we were meant.”

There was no man who understood her heart and her very soul the way he did. When she smiled through her tears, she marveled at all of her blessings. She had a husband she loved more than life itself, and a daughter who had utterly captured her heart.

“We have the rest of our lives together,” she promised her husband.

And it was enough.