He looked at her, confused and horrified. “Then why are you not lying down?” he demanded. “You must lie down, sweetheart. Please lie down.”
He was beginning to fuss and Mattie squeezed his hand again to calm him. “I am very well,” she assured him softly. “I do not need to lie down, I promise. I am content sitting for now.”
“But the baby iscoming.”
He wasn’t going to let it go and Mattie sighed heavily at her nervous husband. “Very well,” she said. “Will you sit next to me and hold my hand if I lie down?”
He nodded. “I will,” he said, quickly taking the chair that his mother was pushing at him without releasing Mattie’s hand. He sat, looking at her apprehensively. “There. I’m sitting. You must lie down.”
Mattie did, but only because she’d told him she would. The women in the chamber went about preparing for the coming birth by fetching hot water and blankets and rags, for childbirth was a messy business. For the moment, they left Mattie and Gar alone; the pair were only focused on each other.
“Be calm, my love,” Mattie said. “There is really nothing to become upset over. I’ve done this five times before, so I know how to do it.”
A strong pain washed over her, but she did nothing more than grunt softly as Gar squeezed her hand and told her howbrave she was. Rhoswyn, who had noticed the pain, came alongside the bed and put her hand on Mattie’s belly.
“That one was close behind the other,” she said softly. “Do ye feel like pushing yet, sweetheart?”
Mattie was quickly growing uncomfortable. The servants had brought out the birthing chair, the one Jordan and several of her daughters and daughters-in-law had used, and Mattie had intended on using it, too, but she was lying on the bed to please Gar, simply to keep him calm. The pains weren’t so bad when she was sitting up, but shifting to her back made them come on more swiftly and strongly.
Things were definitely in motion.
“No pushing yet,” she said. “I will lie here with my husband for a moment and then he can leave when I move to the chair.”
“You want me to leave?” Gar said, hurt. “But I was there for Jasper and Oliver. You let me stay.”
“Do you want to stay for this one?”
“I want the first arms to hold my son to be mine.”
It was a sweet plea, something he’d said with the last two boys she’d delivered. He hadn’t said it with the first three because he’d been terrified of the childbirth process, but Andreas had convinced him that being present with one’s wife when she gave birth to your son was a soul-fortifying experience. It had been, except the first time with Jasper, Gar had nearly gagged when he saw his child emerging from his wife. He’d been embarrassed until Mattie reminded how she first reacted to battle wounds those years ago.
Unsurprisingly, that didn’t make him feel better.
But being the first one to hold his son did.
“Then you’d better be ready to hold him—because I think he is coming,” she said, grunting as another pain washed over her. “Help me to the birthing chair, Gar. This baby is not going to wait.”
Trying to keep his nerves under control, Gar gently pulled her up from the bed as he and his mother helped her over to the birthing chair where Avrielle was waiting. Everyone else was busy around them, making sure the water was ready, making sure the rags were ready to clean up the mess. Someone had spread a large towel underneath the chair to help mitigate the blood and fluids that would make the floor very slippery, and Mattie sat down carefully as Rhoswyn pulled up the skirt of her dress. She never even had the chance to change from her wedding finery, which seemed to concern her more than the impending birth of the child at the moment.
“Can we remove the dress?” she asked, feeling another strong pain as she lifted her arms. “Gar, can you help me, please?”
Gar went to work on the laces up the back of the dress, quickly loosening them so he could lift the yellow silk over her head. But just as he pulled it up, Mattie suffered a huge pain and she bore down, groaning.
“The head is here, Mattie!” Avrielle said encouragingly. “Push with your next pain, sweetheart. Your child is ready to be born!”
Gar paused midway in removing the dress, peering down to where his child’s head had just emerged into the world. “Is he here?” he said, incredulous and excited. “Is it male?”
“Gar!” Mattie shrieked. “My gown!”
He looked at her, startled, only to realize he’d left the dress over her face and head so she couldn’t see a thing. It looked like the top half of her was covered with a big blanket and he yanked it free, greatly remorseful.
“My apologies,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I was simply excited to see the child. I am very sorry, truly.”
Mattie frowned at him, pushing her hair out of her eyes because the inept removal of the dress had messed her coiffure. Before she could become irate with him, however, another painrolled over her and she gave a big push—only for the child to come sliding out into Avrielle’s waiting hands.
“A lass!” Avrielle said. “Mattie, you have a daughter!”
Mattie crowed happily. “Praise the saints,” she said, panting with exertion from the fast delivery. “Gar, did you hear? A lass!”
