Page 59 of Sweet Home Highlander
“Aye,” he said, the word catching on a strangled sound. “The midwife, laird, she’s visiting her sister in Inverness.”
It was horrible timing for the midwife to be gone, but there was nothing to be done for it. “What about the midwife at Maclaren?”
“We’ve sent for her, but she’s gone to check on the bairns for the MacLeod. ’Twill be hours before she returns, and Fiona…there’s so much pain.”
Niall stood and dusted his hand on his kilt. He called for his horse. “I ken someone who might help.”
He hoped.
Niall rode like the devil was on his heels back to the keep. “Where’s my wife?” he demanded of a footman.
“In the gallery, laird.”
He was no time in finding her, but paused at the sight of her and her maid standing watch as two footmen hung another painting. It was a landscape, he noted with some relief. Her eyes met his, and he strode forward. “I need yer help. With a birth.”
“A birth?”
“My head foreman. His wife is in labor and there’s no’ a midwife on hand to assist.” He paused, noticing the sudden lack of color in her face. “Ye used to help yer mother, Lady Glenross, with births at Montgomery.”
“I helped my mother boil water,” she said, eyes wide. “Get fresh linens, that sort of thing.”
“Aye, and how many times did ye accompany her?”
“I don’t know, dozens, I suppose. But Niall—”
“We have nobody else with the kind of knowledge ye have, Aisla.” He drew a harsh breath. “Please. I need ye.”
Niall flushed. He hadn’t meant to say it like that. He did not want to be indebted to her in any significant way, but the words had just slipped out.
However, the transformation was instant. Squaring her slim shoulders, she nodded to her maid. “Pauline, fetch as many fresh linens as you can carry, and any other help you can gather.”
Niall led her from the hall to his horse, and informed one of his men to accompany Pauline once she was ready. He shouldn’t have savored the feel of his wife’s arms wrapped tightly around him, but he did. The journey to the cottages was far too short.
They entered a cottage, and instantly Aisla became someone else. She didn’t display one ounce of the anxiety she’d shown up at the keep. “It’s much too hot in here,” she said. “Open the windows for some fresh air. Heat some more water and give us some room.”
The foreman’s wife, Fiona, was propped in bed, her face flushed red and brow furrowed. Tendrils of hair clung damply to her skin. “How long have you had birthing pains?” Aisla asked her gently.
“Since early this morn, my lady.”
She signaled for Pauline, who had arrived with an armful of linens. “Strip as much of the sodden bedsheets as you can.” She turned back to the woman with a soft smile. “Try to stand. Walking will ease the pressure. There’s no blood, and there’s no danger. Your babe is eager to arrive, that’s all.”
Niall swallowed, watching her give orders, her calmness belying the fright he saw in her eyes. But she bore it bravely, doing what she could to calm the other woman and making sure she was comfortable. When the woman’s pains started coming closer together, Aisla put her back into bed, her hands gently pressing into the distended belly and peering between her spread legs. He did not miss the flash of fear that marred her exterior calm.
“What’s wrong?”
“He has not turned,” she whispered. “Babes are born head first. This one is feet first. His legs could break.” She sucked in a sob. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What would yer mother do? What would Catriona do, Aisla?” He saw some reason penetrate the fog of fear.
“She would guide it out.”
Niall kissed her brow. “Ye can do it. I ken ye can.”
She rose to scrub her hands thoroughly in hot water, her beautiful face white, before resuming her position at the base of the keening woman. Niall couldn’t see what she was doing beneath the sheet, but the woman’s screams were terrifying as Aisla’s hands did their work.
“There’s one foot, and I have the other,” Aisla said. “Now push.”
Another piercing scream split the air. “There’s one arm and the other. Now the shoulders. It won’t be easy at this angle, but you can do it. Push, Fiona, push.”
