Page 99 of Enchantment of a Highlander

For now, Celia was safe.

• • •

The soft ember glow of the hearth was little comfort on the still night. Celia lay in bed, listening to the pull of her own breath, steady, slow, and automatic.

A stick snapped outside. Her breathing stopped and locked in her chest.

The door rattled and her heart leapt to her throat.

Her mind scrambled with frantic haste for a place to go, a place to hide in the open room with almost no furnishings.

The door rattled three more times in rapid succession.

Duncan.

She leapt from the bed and raced to the door, her heart still slamming in her chest. Duncan would never come in the middle of the night if it were not important.

She pulled open the door and found him standing in the icy moonlight, his eyes wide with terror. He staggered into the room and did not speak until the door closed behind him.

“It’s Bessie.” His words were breathless. “The baby started to come two days ago, but he’s still no emerged. She’s begging for ye and I held off for as long as I could to get ye.” He shook his head, his face stricken in the subtle light. “Then the blood started. There was so much of it. If ye dinna come…”

Celia’s throat closed and she knew exactly what he did not want to say.

If she did not come, Bessie and her baby would die.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Celia’s clothes stuck to her skin in the overly warm cottage and fatigue left her limbs heavy. Still, she did not cease her efforts to turn the babe within Bessie’s womb.

The graying light of dawn shadowed the woman’s pallid face. She’d once again slipped into an exhausted slumber, her body still contracting with the force of labor.

Celia pushed her hands gently against Bessie’s swollen stomach, along either side of the baby. It fought back against her ministrations. A good sign.

“I see the bairn’s head,” Bessie’s neighbor, Nell, exclaimed from behind Celia.

Celia’s heart slammed hard in her chest and a burst of energy shot through her. Nell had been correct—the baby was crowning.

“Bessie, I need you to wake up,” Celia said. “You need to help push the baby out.”

The woman gave a soft whimper, but her eyes remained closed.

Her body clenched around another contraction and her legs tensed with such tender effort it tore at Celia’s heart.

Bessie was not strong enough to do more than what her body did naturally.

With a painful slowness, the baby’s head eased from its mother’s body until Celia could tighten her fingers around the babe enough to help.

She tugged, gentle enough to not cause injury, yet firm enough to aid Bessie’s next contraction in freeing the baby.

The babe pulled free of its mother’s body. The dark eyes blinked in surprise and the baby’s arms and legs threw out wide as if it felt in a free fall.

A boy.

Celia could not stop the smile on her face any more than she could stop the tears welling in her eyes.

A beautiful, healthy baby boy.

The little boy gave a hoarse squall with his new voice and his body showed bright pink.