The bright rays of early morning light streaming in through the open window were hurting her. Willa opened her eyes, her mind still half asleep. Another pain struck and she curled into a ball, trying to catch her breath. Not the sunlight, the baby was coming! Excitement shot through her; finally she would meet the life that had been growing inside her all of these months. She took deep breaths, trying to relax, but it was only a few minutes later that the next pain overwhelmed her. It was so sudden that she made a sound of distress, and Drust shot upright next to her in the bed.
“Willa? What is it love? Are ye all right?” His hands roamed frantically over her body, as if checking for an injury. She would have laughed, had she not felt like her insides were being torn out with a hot poker.
“I’m… fine. The baby…”
“What’s wrong with the baby?”
There was sheer panic in his voice, and as the pain slowly released her from its grip, she turned and did her best to smile reassuringly.
“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”
