Labor of Love

by Felicia Rogers

  Swabbing the babe’s nose and mouth, Arbella slapped its small naked bottom. A hearty wail rent the air. Arbella handed the babe to Sorcha, who held tears in her eyes and a word of thanks on her lips.

  Arbella faced Grant. “Do you have a leather strap?”

  He nodded and gave her the requested item. Hot water was used to clean a small knife. The leather strap was wrapped around the cord, and cut, severing the tie from mother to child. The remaining water was used to clean Sorcha and the babe. After they were settled, Arbella rose from the ground. “Grant, you need to erect a shelter and build a fire to keep them warm.”

  “Aye, I will get the men to start that right now.” Grant pulled Arbella forward into an embrace. “It is good to see ye. Thank ye for coming.”

  She smiled shyly. “You are most welcome.”

  Grant ordered the three Cameron brothers forward. “Ailbert, Bernard, and Colin, I am in yer debt.”

  They bowed respectfully. Ailbert spoke on behalf of all of them. “We are glad we could help yer lady. Tell us, what did she have?”

  “She had a lass,” Grant replied, a grin splitting his lips.

  ****

  Sorcha rested all day, only waking to nurse the child before returning into a deep sleep. Arbella kept a close watch to see how she was healing. Grant walked in and sat in the corner of the shelter staring at the two ladies in his life. He found himself wondering if Sorcha had thought of a name for the wee babe. She was a beautiful thing with a small patch of red fuzz dotting the top of her porcelain-skinned head.

  As Sorcha and the babe rested, Grant searched for Duncan and Boyd. Night was falling, and his scouts had yet to return. The help of the Sinclairs would have to be enlisted if he hoped to protect his burgeoning family. Duncan, Boyd, and Arbella were found sitting around a small fire.

  “How do they fair?” asked Duncan.

  “They seem to be doing quite well thanks to Arbella.”

  “Aye, you could have handled the rest had I not arrived. I missed the hard part.”

  Grant shrugged. “I did nothing. Sorcha did it all.”

  Duncan cleared his throat. “About that. Who is this girl? Where did she come from? And what is going on? I get the feeling there is much ye aren’t tellin’ us.”

  Grant paused. How much should he tell them? He didn’t like sharing his private family life with anyone, but Duncan’s family was his family. Duncan’s brother, Cainneach, had been his best friend. He had given many years in service to the Sinclair clan. If he couldn’t tell them his situation then who could he tell?

  In a steady stream of speech, he spilled all. Starting with the letter from Samuel, and ending with the current pursuit of Nigel Duffy. He even told them how he thought Samuel was the father and who the real father was. Arbella’s hand covered a gasp as he revealed the circumstances behind the babe’s existence.

  When Grant finished Duncan spoke. “Well ye must know we will help ye anyway we can. The first thing we need to do is to get the lass and the wee babe back to the keep, then we can make plans on how to protect them.”

  Grant embraced Duncan in a strong handshake. “Thank ye, Duncan. It means a lot to me to know I have yer family on my side.”

  “Aye, we will always be on yer side, Grant. Ye know ye also have the Lord.”

  “Aye, I know I do.”

  Arbella looked at him. “Ye do?”

  “Aye, I do.”

  Duncan and Arbella smiled at one another, joy lighting their face at Grant’s revelation. They said goodnight and headed to their respective areas of rest.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Extended kin left behind, Grant went to Sorcha. He lay down beside her. His plaid was wrapped around Sorcha, the babe, and himself, transferring his heat to his new family. With the approach of dawn, Sorcha’s stretching and the babe’s whimper woke Grant. “Good mornin’ to ye, lass.”

  “Aye, good mornin’.”

  Sorcha looked above her, a questioning expression flitted across her face.

  “Lass, it is all right. We erected a shelter around ye and the babe as ye slept.”

  Sorcha struggled to sit up but he held her down. “Grant, we must get up and get out of here. They’re comin’! Oh, this is more awful than before.”

  “Why is that? I don’t believe their mission has changed that much. Besides, now we have the Sinclairs on our side. So I would say our situation seems to be improvin’.”

  Lying on her back, with the baby cradled to her opposite side, her hands flittered above her head and through the air. Her anxiety was making his heart beat race. To calm her, he pushed up on his elbow, and leaned over her. He rubbed his knuckle across her smooth cheek, enjoying the silken feel of her skin. A lock of hair caressed her cheek and he moved it behind her ear.

  “Grant, please. Don’t ye see. Since the babe is born they don’t have to wait before they burn me. Nigel can rip her from my arms, and they can kill me here, or let me live, and kill me later. I no longer matter. They only want Eva.”

  “Eva, ye say?”

  “Aye, that is if it is all right with her father?” Sorcha added shyly.

  “Eva Cameron. I believe I like it verra much. It means life, aye?”

  Sorcha nodded.

  Grant added, “With her birth, I not only gained a daughter, but I also gained a new, more worthy life. One I can devote to God. Aye, I believe her father approves verra much.”

  Concern laced Sorcha’s voice. “What will ye tell yer family, Grant? What if they don’t accept me?”

  The news had been shared with the Sinclairs and with the family who traveled with him. They had been amazingly accepting. He could say he no longer worried about what would happen when he arrived at home and told the rest of his kin. “Lass, don’t we have enough troubles without finding more?” He fingered the plaid, pulling it tighter around them. “Quite simply, I will tell them ye are my wife and this is our babe and they will nary question me.”

  “B-but I’m not yer wife.”

  “Aye that is true. But ye will be.”

  “I will? But how, we are in the middle of nowhere. Plus, we are running from the magistrate. How can ye possibly expect to get married?”

  “We will. Now stop yer fidgeting, feed Eva, and rest. Come the end of this day, we may have to move to a location with more protection.” He moved to get up but she pulled him back.

  Light filled her eyes. “Was there a woman here with me when I birthed Eva?”

  “Aye, there was,” Grant replied.

  “Who was she?”

  “That is what I have been trying to hint at. We do have family that has already accepted ye. They have agreed to help protect us until the threat from Nigel passes. Now, do as I said and rest. Tomorrow will be a big day.”

  “Grant?”

  “Aye?”

  “Would ye stay a tad longer? At least until I fall back to sleep?”

  “Aye, lass I will,” Grant answered, pulling Sorcha closer to his side.

  ****

  “Lorcan, is your offspring sure we are going in the right direction?” asked Nigel.

  “Aye, he is. But if ye doubt him, why don’t ye ask him yerself.”

  “I detest communicating with the dimwit,” he mumbled.

  “What did ye say, Nigel? I didn’t quite hear ye,” said Lorcan, frowning.

  “I said, I want to know if we are going in the right direction.”

  “And I told ye to ride forward and talk to the boy. But I will do it, if that satisfies ye.”

  Nigel nodded. Close behind Lorcan he followed.

  Riding forward Lorcan called out. “Festus, me boy?”

  Festus stopped his horse and waited for Lorcan. “Pa, why are ye stoppin’ me? Haven’t we lost enough time already? We are so close I can smell ‘em.”

  “Well that seals it,” Nigel grunted.

  “Pa, what is he sayin’?”

  “I don’t rightly know. What are ye sayin’, Nigel?”

  “I would think it wa
s obvious.”

  Festus trotted his horse over beside Nigel and stared at him, his eyes growing wide in a threatening manner. “Well it isn’t, and I tire of yer games. All this time following the trail for ye, and ye have given me nothin’ but grief. I have left me girl, me heifer, and me new land, all to find Sorcha for ye. So if ye have something to say to me, then say it.”

  No man should be expected to tolerate such impudence. Spine erect and head held high, Nigel spoke. “All right, let me spell it out for you. I despise you. You are an ignorant fool. I am sick of your company. And just so we are clear, we couldn’t possibly be on their trail because you smell them. It is clear from a great distance that there is no way you could smell past your own stench!”

  Silent, Festus scratched his head. “Ye know it sure is odd ye feel that way about me, since ye are crossing the water just to retrieve the fruit of my loins and raise it as yer own.”

  Festus didn’t wait for a response but whipped his horse to the front of the line and kept tracking. If Festus had been a gentleman in Nigel’s home, he would have conceded victory. As he watched Festus’ retreating back, the validity of Festus’ statement sickened him.

  ****

  Bryce and a few of the Cameron men waited along the wooded trail for any signs they were being pursued. Grant had provided a detailed description of Nigel Duffy, but Bryce was still surprised when the man came into view. How had a man who lived this many days off the land been able to maintain such an appearance?

  Clean shaven, his powdered wig rested in perfect symmetry upon his high-brow. Knee high boots shone with a high glossy sheen. Black coat looked freshly laundered, brass buttons reflected the light. No wonder it had taken the group so long to reach them. The man must have had to stop innumerable times to update his appearance.

  Bryce and the others remained as motionless as stone statues as Nigel and the man had their little spat. When the man at the front called Festus made his comment about smelling his query, Bryce lifted his arm and sniffed.

  He rubbed his hand across his nose. So he didn’t smell like a rose, but he was pretty sure Festus couldn’t smell him, no matter what he said. The man himself was either dark skinned or covered in a hard shell of dried mud, Bryce couldn’t decipher which. The more he sniffed the air, the more convinced he was Festus must smell himself. A foul stench wafted through the small glen. If he wasn’t mistaken, earlier he had seen a flock of birds fly overhead and drop dead. When Nigel spoke of the man’s foul odor, Bryce almost applauded.

  Festus had made some comment that seemed to disturb Nigel then rode off down the path. Bryce and the others gathered their horses and headed back to Grant. If they weren’t ready to depart there might be a huge problem. How had Nigel’s group found them? A plethora of distractions had been planned. The Sinclair lad in town had obviously not been as adapt at stopping the group as he thought he would be.

  Chapter Forty

  The litter was prepared, the shelter torn down and packed. Sorcha and Eva were arranged on the wooden litter, and placed under a thick cover. Grant instructed the three Cameron brothers, his uncle’s sons, to surround the object on three sides while he rode behind. Duncan and his clansmen rode in front, leading the way.

  No sooner had they set out then Bryce caught up to them.

  He yelled, “Grant, trouble is on the way!” Was there never to be any peace? Word was sent up the line and Duncan increased their pace. Sorcha laid on the litter and held the babe in her arms as they bounced along the rough ground.

  The fleeing group was pushing harder than normal. The Sinclair keep was within sight. Would they make it in time?

  ****

  Would they make it on time? Sorcha wondered. From her vantage point the world was flying by. Her back ached as it landed time and time again on the rough logs. There had been no time and no supplies to build a comfortable means of travel. The men had sawed logs and lashed them together with leather straps, thick furs were laid atop the contraption in an attempt to make it softer.

  Although grateful for their efforts, she still felt every rock and bump along the way. The whole of Scotland must be nothing more than giant boulders and large hole and her driver was determined to hit every last one. At the end of this horrific ride she would have the bruises to prove it. Tirelessly she worked to keep Eva’s tiny body from being jostled.

  When Bryce arrived in the middle of their ride, Grant pushed the riders into overtime and Sorcha knew something had to be done. This pace was sure to injure the babe before Nigel even had a chance to reach them.

  Her voice quaked with the movement as she attempted to speak. “Grant, we must stop.”

  Grant frowned but still had the group of riders come to a halt. He jumped from his horse and leaned in close. “What’s wrong? What did you say? Are ye all right?” He asked in a rush of words.

  He asked question after question. Was this wrong? Was that wrong? It seemed that was the only conversation they ever had. He was always asking if she was all right or if something was wrong. One of these days, she would sit down and tell him he needed to stop asking her that. She couldn’t get a word in past all his worrying. Finally, she butted in. “Grant, please let me speak. We are all right for now. But if we don’t slow down I’m afraid our heads are goin’ to pop off!”

  Grant struck a serious pose but he couldn’t hold it, as his laughter burst from him. “What would ye have us do, lass?”

  Sorcha pushed herself up to a standing position. Grant helped to steady her. “Let us ride with ye.”

  Grant furrowed his brow. “Lass ye don’t need to be jostled about.”

  “Ye don’t say,” she said, as she looked back at the litter still bouncing even though it was no longer in motion.

  “Well, I see what ye are sayin’, but…”

  “Ye got nothin’, right?”

  “I hate to admit it to ye, but ye are right. I got nothin’.” He called for Arbella. “Can ye hold Eva until we get settled?”

  “Aye,” Arbella said. She smiled and cooed as she held a restless Eva in her arms.

  Grant placed Sorcha on his horse delicately then hauled himself up behind her. She reached across the gap for Eva, pulling her tightly into her bosom.

  “Thank ye, Arbella.”

  “Don’t mention it. She is a beautiful child.”

  “Here we go again.”

  “Duncan Sinclair, you can stop hinting that we need to wait to have more children. You know as well as I the Lord will grant them to us when and how he sees fit.”

  “Aye, I know that well enough. What I dread is more pretty lasses. How I am going to protect Glenna and Aileana from lechers, I don’t know. Then to think about all the other girls we may have that I might need to protect.” Duncan shuddered.

  Arbella smiled in a loving way. “Always thinking ahead, I see. Again, what we have is up to the good Lord, and we will be grateful regardless.” Arbella turned her mount toward the Sinclair keep and trotted off, ending the conversation with Duncan.

  Grant and Sorcha followed. The litter was detached and discarded. Riding astride the horse should increase their pace without shaking her body apart.

  She reveled in the firm but gentle touch of Grant’s arms as they went around her and Eva and grasped the reins. Smiling at her, he winked. Sorcha wanted to talk to Grant about how he felt about having more children. He had said Eva would be the first of his children, and she hoped he hadn’t changed his mind. As she longed to ask him those questions, she snuggled closer to his body, yearning to kiss him. She leaned up to tell him and spotted a rising cloud of dust behind their little band.

  “Grant,” she gasped with worry and surprise. “We must hurry.”

  Grant followed her gaze and glanced behind them. With the urgent situation, he shot their mount forward. A structure loomed ahead, and Grant headed straight for it.

  The gate looked new. The bolts squeaked, as several men leaned against it and pushed with all their might. It opened in a type of slow motion
as the riders urged their mounts ever closer.

  They made it inside and the doors closed, right as arrows stabbed into the wood. Sorcha’s heart thumped in her chest. Grant motioned Bryce forward and handed Sorcha and the babe over to him. “Ye must protect my family.”

  “But Grant — ”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Ye are of my family, and I trust ye to protect them just as ye would protect Crissy.”

  “Grant, about that. Something happened while you were in Ireland, I need to tell ye—“

  “Not now, Bryce.”

  Bryce fidgeted with his hands, shuffling his feet. “But Grant, the last time I was put in charge of a babe I lost it.”

  Sorcha pulled Eva closer. Grant must have seen her reaction of fear. He jumped from his horse and came to her. “Ye will be safe, lass.”

  “Grant, what if something happens to ye? I don’t know if I can lose another…”

  “Sorcha, ye know as well as I each of our lives are in God’s hands. But that doesna mean I won’t try to come back to ye. Ye need to pray for me, aye?”

  She placed her free hand against his cheek. “Without ceasing, my love.”

  Backwards he walked away from her, constantly keeping her in his sight. “I love ye,” he shouted.

  “And I love ye.”

  Duncan and Grant slid out the small door next to the large gate, entering into the coming fray.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Grant’s last glimpse of Sorcha would fill him for a lifetime — her standing there in the courtyard with the wind whipping her hair to the side, a look of longing on her face. She truly loved him, of that he had no doubt. He hoped he wasn’t dooming her to a life of widowhood before she was even married. If the worst happened, he knew she would be safe with the Sinclairs. He should have told Bryce to take her home, but he hadn’t had time to plan that far ahead. The thought of her in his home without him troubled him. She should be with him always. Loving him and being loved by him.