The Midwife: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  This will shut him up. Men hate this answer. “An OB-GYN.”

  “No foolin’? You deliver babies and stuff?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “My wife and I had a baby in July. That baby took forever to get here. Finally they had to…you know, what is the stuff they give to start labor?”

  “Pitocin?”

  “Yeah they gave her that. But there was something else they gave her the night before.”

  “Prostaglandin gel?”

  “Yeah that was it. You ever have to do that? Give a lady that gel stuff?”

  She smiled. “Once in a while.”

  “You ever deliver twins?”

  “Yes.”

  “Triplets?”

  “Once.”

  “Were they identical?”

  “Fraternal.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means they weren’t identical.”

  “My sister had twins. She had to have a C-section. Hey, what does the ‘C’ stand for?”

  “Caesarian.”

  Perhaps he had heard the irritation in her voice because he stopped asking questions for a minute. She turned her attention back to the pocket watch. There was some engraving on the cover, but in the dim light of the cab she couldn’t quite make out what it was.

  “Hey, Doc, mind if I turn on some music?”

  “Not at all.” Maybe that would stop the rapid fire questions.

  “What kind of music do you want?”

  No such luck. “Anything is fine.”

  “Nah, what’s your favorite kind of music?”

  “I like country-western.”

  “Eh…you mind if we don’t listen to that?”

  “Anything is fine.”

  “Is there anything you don’t like?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Christian Rock?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Salsa?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Gangsta rap?”

  “I guess I don’t really care for gangsta rap.”

  “How about Nintendocore?”

  “Nintendocore?” What on earth was that? It sounded like it had something to do with video games.

  Before she could ask, she saw a car way ahead of them begin to slide into the next lane. A driver in that lane slammed on his breaks but hit the skidding car sending them both into a spin, crashing into other cars. The sound of screeching metal on metal filled the air as more cars slid into the first ones. To his credit, Elizabeth’s driver was able to slow the cab down and stop before reaching the pile-up. Unfortunately, the driver of the car behind them wasn’t as skilled and hit the right rear bumper of the cab, shoving it sideways into the wreckage.

  Elizabeth turned her head to look at the road behind them just as another car plowed into the rear driver’s side of the cab. The force sent her head slamming into her door window. A searing pain tore through her skull and everything went black.

  Chapter 3

  Elizabeth woke instantly. The blinding pain in her head was disorienting for a moment, but then suddenly it was gone. How had she gotten out of the cab? She blinked her eyes and gave her head a shake, trying to clear the confusion and process her surroundings as quickly as possible. It was daylight and she was on her hands and knees on a dirt lane. No it can’t be.

  “Get up!” a low coarse voice demanded.

  She glanced around, scarcely able to believe her eyes. She appeared to be in a medieval village.

  “I said, get up,” the man growled before grabbing her elbow and jerking her to her feet.

  OhGod ohGod ohGod ohGod ohGod.

  “And pick up yer bundle. I swear lass, I’ll give ye a skelping if ye keep dragging yer feet.”

  Okay, focus, Elizabeth. Just do what he says until you can figure out what’s going on here. Something that looked like a bedroll, bound with a belt, lay at her feet. No sooner had she picked it up than he jerked her forward, practically dragging her down the lane beside him, towards a walled castle.

  A castle? Think, Elizabeth. You were going to New York. The plane was late leaving and then couldn’t land.

  Her head cleared a little. She remembered talking to the old lady next to her. Elegant. Scottish accent. Gertrude. That was it. Gertrude had asked her, “If ye could go back in time, for a little while, and experience life as a doctor or midwife, would ye want to?”

  Dear, God, she had said yes. But how had Gertrude done it? The image of a beautiful gold pocket watch flashed through her mind. The watch with one hand. Soul exchange. Yer soul travels backwards and enters the body of someone who is about to die, or at least who has set an inevitable course towards their own death.

  She glanced down and for the first time realized she wasn’t in her own body. Elizabeth wasn’t very tall, only about five foot three and while she wasn’t exactly heavy, she’d had generous curves. The body she was in now seemed taller by an inch or so, and much leaner. She had always wanted to be svelte. Now she was, and there wasn’t a pair of cute jeans in sight. Instead she wore several layers of dresses. She thought the bottom layers, next to her skin were linen, but the outer layers were heavy wool with a blanket like cloak over everything. She also wore some sort of heavy stockings and leather shoes.

  She stumbled, nearly falling, only to be yanked upright again. There didn’t seem to be anyone around to stop mister tall, dark and brutal from nearly yanking her shoulder out of the socket. She would have to worry about how she ended up here later. For now she needed to focus on her current predicament.

  When they reached the gate in the wall, the men standing guard nodded them through. He must be someone important. The huge man with her dragged her around to the back of the keep where they met one young man.

  “I was just coming to see—wait, what are ye doing to her?”

  “Ye’ll mind yer own business, if ye know what’s good for ye,” growled her captor before shoving her through an entrance and then up a set of steep curving stairs. When they reached the second level he walked her down a hall, stopping before a door and knocking.

  “Come in,” was the response from within the room.

  He pulled her inside. The room looked like the medieval version of an office or study, and a man sat at a table. “Laird, here is Dolina’s niece, as ye requested.”

  Laird? Something compelled her to curtsy. “Good afternoon…uh…Laird.”

  “Thank ye, Drummond. Elsie, I have a very important task for ye.”

  Her name was Elsie. Good to know, but how odd—her mother had called her Elsie when she was little. “Aye, Laird, what is it ye wish?” Again—where did that come from? Not, what do you have in mind? Or I’ll do what I can. Obedience seemed to be a foregone conclusion.

  “Yer Aunt is an extremely skilled midwife. So much so that her reputation has spread to other clans. Laird MacKenzie’s wife has lost four pregnancies. She’s pregnant again and he is desperate. He sent his son to ask if yer aunt could come and attend Lady MacKenzie. But ye and I both know there are just some women who can’t carry a bairn to term.”

  Elizabeth frowned but decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to argue.

  “I can’t possibly send yer aunt on such a fool’s errand. If she were needed here by one of the women of the clan, and I had sent her away, I would never forgive myself. Ye aren’t without skills—ye have begun training with Dolina. Other than Dolina, ye have no family. Nothing holds ye here. I’ve decided ye’ll go instead, but I intend to tell Laird MacKenzie that ye’re the renowned Macrae midwife. It will improve my relationship with him to do so, and there is no harm in it, since nothing can be done to help his wife anyway. When she loses the bairn, he’ll send ye back but be forever in my debt because I tried to help.”

  Elizabeth was incredulous. “Ye’re asking me to go with them, lie about who I am, and attend a woman who is desperate to carry a child to term?”

  “You impertinent wench, I’m not asking ye to do this—I’m ordering ye to. I need
MacKenzie as an ally.”

  Elizabeth seethed inwardly but again held her tongue. Capitalizing on a couple’s fear was just plain cruel.

  As if he sensed her anger, he added, “And let me make this clear—if ye refuse this order, I will have ye whipped for disobedience. The same is true if ye tell anyone about this little ruse. And believe me, I’ll find out if ye do. Make no mistake, if ye fail in any way, ye will be severely punished. Do ye understand me?”

  What an awful man. Elizabeth would have gone just to get away from him. She almost found it amusing that she was likely to have more knowledge than a medieval midwife about what might be wrong with Lady MacKenzie, and could possibly provide real assistance. She inclined her head. “Aye, Laird, I understand.”

  “Good. Come with me. The faster they leave with ye, the less likely they are to find out that ye aren’t actually the midwife they seek.”

  Elizabeth followed him out of the room, down the stairs and into what must be the castle’s great hall. Four very large men waited there.

  They were all striking but her eye was instantly drawn to one man. Tall, broad shouldered, with sandy blonde hair and grey eyes, he was easily one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. But more than that, he had a presence that instantly commanded respect. She had no doubt that this was Laird MacKenzie’s son.

  She had almost forgotten Laird Macrae’s presence until he said. “Sir Cade, I have considered the matter and discussed it with my advisors. Elsie here assures me that no Macrae woman will be at risk if she accompanies ye. So, I’ve given her leave to go.”

  “This…this lass is yer renowned midwife?” Cade asked in disbelief. “She’s little more than a child herself.”

  Elizabeth almost smiled. Even in the—whatever century she was in—she was being judged by her age.

  “She is one and twenty—”

  “One and twenty? Do ye expect me to believe that yer renowned midwife is only one and twenty?”

  Laird Macrae had the nerve to look affronted. “I assure ye, Sir Cade, she comes from a long line of midwives. She has been learning the art from childhood. Her instincts are remarkable. If anyone can help she can.”

  That was a safe thing to say if ye believed that no one could help. The fact that Elizabeth could likely be of some benefit brought a confident smile to her face.

  Sir Cade turned on her. “Is this the truth? By God’s bones, lass, if I find out ye and yer laird have tried to fool us, ye’ll both be sorry.”

  In all sureness, Elizabeth said, “Sir, I swear to ye, what Laird Macrae has told ye about my ability is true. There is no one better able to assist Lady MacKenzie than I.”

  She wasn’t completely sure how she had landed in this time and place, but the opportunity to help the poor woman filled Elizabeth with purpose. It suddenly became very important to her to convince Sir Cade to take her with them. “Ye have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.”

  Sir Cade seemed taken aback. Elizabeth cast the slightest glance towards Laird Macrae and was pleased to see that even he was shocked by her confident statement.

  Recovering quickly Cade said, “For yer sake, I hope so.” He turned his attention to Laird Macrae. “How soon can she be ready to leave?”

  “She’s ready now. I suggest ye leave immediately if ye don’t want to spend three nights on the road in order to reach Carraigile.”

  “Ye’re sending her by herself? Laird Macrae, we assumed…well, we weren’t expecting to travel with such a young woman…alone. We have no other woman with us.”

  Elizabeth, tilted her head to one side. “Do ye intend to despoil me, Sir Cade?”

  “Nay, of course not. I’ve no need to take an unwilling lass.”

  “That’s good to know. So, do ye intend to let anyone else?”

  He frowned darkly at her. “Ye’ll be in my care—what do ye take me for?”

  “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure why ye would think I shouldn’t travel alone with ye. But if ye don’t intend to molest me, or allow anyone else to, then ye must be worried about yer own virtue.”

  “My virtue?” He barked a laugh, casting a sideways glance at the other warriors, all of whom looked exceedingly amused.

  Elizabeth adopted a bland expression. “Well, Sir, while ye’re undeniably attractive, ye needn’t worry. I think I can restrain myself.” Although a tiny part of her wondered why she would want to.

  Sir Cade looked momentarily shocked, but recovering quickly, winked and said, “Ah, my bonny lass, ye’ll be the first.”

  This statement, coming from any other man, would probably have sounded like the height of conceit, but from this magnetic warrior she suspected it was simply the truth.

  The other men laughed heartily.

  To Laird Macrae, Cade said, “Since neither ye, nor the lass feel the need for a chaperone, we’ll take our leave. Thank ye again, Laird. We are in yer debt.” He made a small bow as did the other men with him.

  Laird Macrae gave an obsequious nod. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t suppress a wry smile. Considering the man thought he was sending an apprentice with no special skills—that that was absolutely true.

  “Tell Laird MacKenzie that his lady will be in our prayers. I wish ye a safe journey,” said Laird Macrae.

  It was all Elizabeth could do not to roll her eyes.

  As the MacKenzie warriors walked towards the front doors, Laird Macrae grabbed Elizabeth’s elbow and hissed in her ear, “Remember, not a word to anyone.”

  “Aye, Laird.” She could not stop herself from bobbing a curtsy before hurrying to follow the MacKenzies.

  Chapter 4

  Cade and his men saddled the horses while the Macrae midwife waited outside the stable. He didn’t know what to think of this turn of events. He had never heard of so young a midwife but she exuded self-assurance. Cade was considered a good judge of character and generally knew when someone was dealing falsely. He was nearly certain that Laird Macrae was not telling the truth. On the other hand, he was absolutely sure the lass was.

  As if reading his thought, Eric said, “She’s certainly a surprise.”

  “Aye, cheeky little bit, isn’t she?” added Stephan.

  Cade grinned. “That she is. And bonny too.”

  Sully, a much older guardsman, frowned. “Aye, but I fear that pretty face and bold manner may be turning yer heads. Cade, I do not believe she’s the midwife we came for. I don’t trust Macrae.”

  “Make no mistake Sully, I don’t trust him either. He’s lying about something.”

  “Then why are we heading back to Carraigile with an imposter?”

  “Because I don’t think she is an imposter. She seems supremely confident in her abilities and I am dead certain she’s telling the truth. I can’t believe so young a woman could dissemble so well.”

  Sully frowned. “They both tell us the same thing? How can Laird Macrae be lying while the lass is telling the truth?”

  Cade considered Sully’s question. He had relied on instinct but how could it be possible? His thoughts went back to the young woman’s demeanor and the answer hit him. “That’s a fair question, Sully, and I can only see one answer. I firmly believe she has been honest with us. So the only explanation I can think of is that she knows much more than her laird believes she does. Given we have no other choice now, I’m inclined to take her to Carraigile and see what Morag makes of her.”

  “Aye, Morag’s a fine midwife, she’ll be able to tell,” Sully agreed. “But what will ye do if Morag calls her out as a fraud?”

  Cade’s expression darkened. “If she’s a fraud, Macrae will rue this day…and that lass will pay for her role in the deception too.”

  They led their horses out of the stable. They had brought an extra mount, confident that one way or another they were going to leave with the midwife. Cade had believed the odds were good that they would have been forced to steal her, and he hadn’t wanted anything to slow their return.

 
He led the sturdy brown mare to Elsie. “Ye’ll ride Edda, here.”

  ~ * ~

  Elizabeth furrowed her brow and stared at him. She hadn’t actually given any thought as to how they would travel until the men had entered the stable. Of course they would be going on horseback. The problem was, she had never ridden a horse. As she had waited for them, she tried to convince herself that this wasn’t actually a problem. How hard can it be? Climb up—hold on.

  She almost believed it until he stopped in front of her with Edda.

  Edda was really big. Granted the other horses were bigger yet, but the distance from Edda’s back to the ground was much farther than Elizabeth wanted to fall.

  “Is something wrong, lass?”

  “Uh…nay.”

  “Give me yer bundle and I’ll tie it to the saddle.”

  She did, and when he was done, he turned back to her. “Here, I’ll give ye a leg up.” He moved to stand with his left shoulder against Edda’s chest, his hands out, clearly expecting Elizabeth to do something.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Do ye not know how to mount a horse, lass?”

  “I don’t really ride much.” I don’t really ride at all.

  Incredulous he asked, “How do ye get from place to place?”

  “I walk.” Even as she said it, the memory of getting into a cab on a snowy night, flitted through her mind.

  “Well we can’t walk to Carraigile. Come here. I’ll lift ye up.”

  She stepped cautiously towards him. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto Edda’s back. He continued to steady her as he said, “Bring yer right leg over. And be careful, she won’t like it if ye kick her neck as ye do it.”

  Elizabeth did as he said.

  “Good. Now, put yer feet in the stirrups. I’ll adjust the length if necessary.”

  Again she followed his order.

  “Don’t put yer feet so far in. Ye want the stirrup under the ball of yer foot.”

  The other men were already on their horses, watching with amusement. Cade adjusted the length of her stirrups and handed her the reins before mounting his horse.

  They left the bailey and rode through the village at a walk. Edda followed the other horses without Elizabeth having to do anything. This was easy enough.