The air was brisk, though the sky was an unfailing blue. Rachel took a deep breath, glad now that she was here. Glad for the chance to leave the house, where she’d been since Caroline began her confinement yesterday morning. Even if she was accompanied by two children.
“Is Baby Alkini sleeping?”
“Yes, she is.” Wolf and Caroline’s third child was still in leading strings. Rachel smiled down at Mary who immediately lifted two pudgy arms, one clutching her doll.
“She wants you to carry her,” offered Kalanu. “She’s such a baby.”
“Am not,” the little girl countered, yet she stood her ground, arms raised. They had barely stepped off the wide porch that fronted the house, so she could hardly be tired. But Rachel found no help for it but to lift the child into her arms. Settling her onto a hip seemed to help to ease the load.
They strolled toward the river, Kalanu dashing ahead at times and pretending to pull taut the string of a bow and arrow. “Papa promised to take me hunting with him this winter,” he announced and Rachel nodded, trying not to meet Mary’s eyes. The girl was using her perch to stare intently at Rachel’s head.
Finally, unable to ignore the scrutiny any longer she drew in her breath. “Is my hair mussed, Mary?”
“No.” But the wary stare continued. They reached the shore of the river before the little girl spoke again. “Is Mama going to die?”
“Of course not. I mean...” Was she? Was that what caused the uneasy feeling she had? Rachel shook her head. “Whatever made you ask such a thing?”
“We thought it might be so because you’re here.” Kalanu tossed a stone into the gurgling water. When he looked up his dark eyes shone with tears.
“Me? But why would you think—”
“Please don’t take our mama away to heaven.”
“Oh sweetheart.” Rachel knelt with the distraught child, cuddling first her and then her brother into an embrace. “I won’t take your mama away. I won’t.”
The sniffling stopped and tearful eyes stared into hers. “Promise?”
A chill ran through Rachel, so cold and so strong that she shuddered. “Yes, I promise,” she breathed, unable to help herself from making that response.
The relief the two children exhibited was dramatic and frightening. What had she vowed? Only that she would not take their mother away. Which of course she wouldn’t. But somehow, staring into their trusting faces, Rachel knew it was much more that she’d pledged.
She didn’t know exactly what it was until she watched them play a bit later. Rachel sat on a tree stump, her eyes closed and covered by her palms, slowly counting to five and twenty. The children scurried about supposedly each finding a hiding place, though for the last three times Mary had insisted upon sharing her older brother’s... much to his annoyance.
They were whispering and Rachel smiled, thinking how easy they’d be to find but how she would search about toward the house a bit before pouncing on them where they hid behind a holly bush. Then a word floated to her above the constant gurgling of the river.
“Angel.”
Rachel shifted, turning her head to hear them better.
“Mama won’t die,” Mary said, her voice filled with relief. “And don’t say she might. Angels don’t lie. Mama said so.”
Forgetting the game Rachel’s hands dropped. She caught a glimpse of Mary’s surprised expression before she ducked around behind her brother. Making no pretense to search elsewhere, Rachel hurried around the tree, dropping to her knees in front of the startled little girl.
“What do you mean, angels don’t lie.”
“They don’t.” Mary’s eyes took up most of her face. “Mama told us how they came out of heaven to talk to the sheep.”
“Shepherds. Can’t you remember anything, Mary? Angels wouldn’t talk to animals, baby,” Kalanu declared.
“They might,” the child insisted, turning toward her brother and stamping her foot. Then she focused back on Rachel. “Tell him they might talk to animals if they wanted.”
“Your sister is correct,” Rachel agreed before folding Mary’s hands in hers. “But tell me what this has to do with you... and your mother.”
“Mary thinks you’re an angel,” Kalanu said, adding under his breath. “She’s only a silly baby.”
“Am not.” Mary pulled from Rachel’s grasp, turning to face her older brother with her small chin thrust forward. “Besides, you said so, too.”
“I said she looked like the picture in the book,” he insisted, though he couldn’t seem to meet Rachel’s eye. “You’re the one who thinks she sees the halo.”
“I do see it. It’s right there.” One stubby finger pointed to a spot over Rachel’s head. Instinctively her hands reached up to feel... nothing.
“Children, I...” She what? Rachel could think of nothing to say. In the end she pretended the wind was too cold and bundled them into the house and up the stairs to the nursery, promising to return later to read them a story.
Rushing down the stairs she couldn’t resist checking her reflection in the beveled mirror above the gateleg table in the hallway. There was nothing circling her golden curls. Shaking her head she hurried into the parlor, stopping short when she saw Logan... his fingers inches from the decanter of Madeira on the table by his chair.
He looked up, his expression unreadable. Rachel’s gaze held his for a moment, her heart pounding faster. But when he looked down, the long dark lashes shadowing his eyes, her heart plummeted.
“Caroline isn’t...?” The lump of emotion in her throat wouldn’t let her continue. All she could see was the sweet faces of Caroline’s children. The calm belief that her word was true.
“Dead?”
His voice snapped Rachel out of her reverie.
“No.” He took a deep breath. “But...”
“What?” Rachel was across the room, kneeling in front of him before he stopped shaking his head. “The baby isn’t coming as it should.”
“Why not?” Rachel grabbed his hands.
“I don’t know. Sadayi seems to think the child is too big.”
“Well, what is Sadayi doing? Certainly there is—”
“She’s given Caroline some herbs and called on the spirits to help.” His voice was flat.
“She’s given up on her then? They’ll both die. Caroline and her baby.” Rachel tried to meet his gaze but he would have none of it. “Where’s Wolf?”
“With Caroline.” He did glance up then. “She hasn’t given up.” Again he seemed to find the design in the carpet of interest. “Though she grows weaker.”
“Then you must do something.”
He did meet her eyes then, his shadowed in disbelief. “You’re daft. I can do nothing.”
“You can.” Her gaze followed his as it slid toward the decanter. “I’ve seen you read your books.”
“There’s a huge difference between reading and doing, Your Highness.”
“Perhaps not so huge. I also know of your surgery on the Campbell boy.”
“Aye. ’Tis sawing off his arm, I did.”
“’Tis saving his life, you did.”
He was frightened.
Logan’s fear surged through her as surely as if it were her own. Rachel squeezed his hands, knowing again the joy of being one with him. She could even feel the magnetic pull of the Madeira and the power of the man sitting before her as he triumphed over the temptation.
“You will do your best for Caroline and her babe,” Rachel whispered. Her fingers were white from the pressure of their bonding, and she knew when she released his much larger hands they would bear the imprint of hers.
Rachel was so sure of herself... of him... that even when he asked her to bring the wine she barely hesitated. “For Caroline,” he explained, though she had asked for none.
But entering the bedroom on the first floor where Caroline lay shook all Rachel’s confidence. It seemed as if the pall of death already hung over her. As if her soul already hovered between this life and the next.
Rachel expected Caroline to cry out in pain. She was not present when Queen Charlotte delivered the young Prince George, but word about the court was that she’d bellowed quite loudly, calling out in her native tongue till the royal bedchamber echoed with German.
But Caroline lay still, barely whimpering when a spasm of pain rippled through her body. Her husband seemed in nearly as bad shape. The tall man Rachel thought so fierce hunched over beside the bed, his hand clutching his wife’s as if he could imbue her with some of his own strength. He didn’t even glance up when Rachel and Logan approached the bed. Nor did Sadayi cease her rhythmic chanting.
When Logan’s hand settled on his brother’s shoulder, Wolf finally tore his eyes away from his wife. His dark stare was so grief-stricken Rachel wanted to rush from the room. But she stood by Logan as he spoke, his voice a beacon of calm and reason.
“I want to help Caroline, but I must examine her first.”
A shadow of puzzlement deepened the dark eyes and Rachel sank to the floor beside Wolf. He probably knew no more about his brother’s knowledge of medicine than anyone else.
“Please let him. Please.” On her knees, beseeching Caroline’s husband, Rachel knew her plea sailed to a much higher authority. She let out her breath only when Wolf dropped his forehead onto the brightly colored quilt.
“Do what you can,” he murmured.
As if those words brought him to life, Logan hurried to the foot of the bed. Before raising the coverlet he took a deep breath. “Rachel, perhaps you and Wolf should leave.”
The emphatic, “No,” came from them both at the same time. Wolf’s fingers wove more tightly with his wife’s as if he refused to leave her... ever.
From where she knelt beside the bed, Rachel could not see Logan’s face. But she could hear his mutterings and prayed he knew what to do. When he finally stood, his expression seemed calm and determined.
“I need to turn the babe. Caroline, would you—”
“What are you doing?” Though he still held on to his wife, Wolf now grabbed Rachel with his other hand. “I can’t let you hurt her further.”
Sadayi seemed to agree with his words as she lowered her voice, giving the chant an unearthly ring, and stepped closer to the bed. She stopped, staring first at Logan, then Wolf. “I have called upon the spirits. It is in their hands.”
“No.” Rachel jumped to her feet, blocking the old woman’s almost hypnotic stare from reaching Wolf. “The spirits have sent Logan to help.” She turned toward Wolf. “We must let him.”
For one tense moment Rachel could almost see the two cultures warring within the man. In the end it was concern and love for his wife that won out. “Do what you must to save her life.”
He worked quickly and though Rachel knew what Logan did must be hurting Caroline, she hardly moved a muscle. When Logan stood again, he wiped blood, Caroline’s blood, from his hands. “The babe is in position but Caroline needs to push and I don’t know...” The rest of his words drifted off as his gaze fell upon the exhausted woman’s pale face.
Of course she couldn’t push. She’d been doing just that for nearly two days and her body could do no more. Except that it must.
Rushing around the foot of the bed—trying not to view the blood-soaked sheets, Rachel leaned toward Caroline’s ear. “You must,” she whispered. “You must try some more, Caroline.” Rachel brushed damp, moon-spun curls from her forehead. “For your new babe, Caroline, you must.”
Blue eyes that were closed before, now opened, staring into Rachel’s own. Tears clogged Rachel’s throat as she touched Caroline’s cheek.
“Do you understand what needs done?”
The nod was barely imperceptible, yet Rachel saw it. Saw Caroline’s face contort as another wave rippled across her distended belly. This time though she didn’t allow the torment to rule her. With a supreme force of will Caroline put the pain to use.
The tendons in her neck stood out in relief against her pale skin as she pushed.
“That’s good, Caroline.” Logan’s voice held an air of excitement which infused Rachel.
“Did you hear what he said, Caroline? You’re doing splendidly.”
With the next contraction Caroline fumbled to push up and Rachel supported one of her shoulders, calling for Wolf to grab the other. He leaped at the chance to do something other than watch his wife expire before him.
Rachel didn’t know how long this went on. Caroline seemed to gain strength with each of her efforts. Her face was covered with perspiration and between pains, Rachel wiped it with a linen towel. And she continued to talk to her. Words of encouragement. Words of support. They seemed to hang in the air, mingling with the Cherokee chants and Caroline’s grunts of labor.
They all ceased when the baby’s first cry filled the room. It sounded weak at first, then spiraled to a full crescendo as Logan lifted the slimy, blood-covered mass of humanity.
“You have a daughter,” he announced to Caroline, before bundling the infant into linens and placing her on her mother’s chest.
Tears streamed down Rachel’s cheeks but she hadn’t the wherewithal to wipe them away as she looked at Caroline staring at her newborn child. It was if she was trying to memorize the tiny puckered features... as if she feared there was little time to do so.
Wolf too seemed in awe of the tiny creature, and though he wasn’t crying, his dark eyes were suspiciously bright.
Sadayi had taken over for Logan, finishing the birthing process while Logan poured water from the pitcher into the bowl and plunged his hands in to clean them.
There were so many emotions freely spiraling about the room that Rachel felt dizzy. They seemed to all assault her at once. The joy, the exuberance, the gratitude... the fear.
Rachel’s eyes tore to Logan standing near the foot of the bed, staring down at Caroline. The fear was coming from him, and Rachel could sense that it was fear for Caroline.
But she’d delivered the child, with a great deal of effort, true, but surely now that she could rest all would be well. Except that as Rachel let her gaze stray back to the new mother, she could see the pallor of Caroline’s skin. Her eyelids drifted shut. Now that she’d finished her task, the spurt of energy dissipated like a mist before the summer sun.
She was going to die.
Rachel had no doubt it would happen... was happening.
Unless...
Crouching down, her lips mere inches from Caroline’s ear, Rachel began to talk. At first they were just words like she murmured earlier. Encouragement. And then it was as if it wasn’t her talking at all, as someone or something else took control of her tongue.
“It is not your time,” her mouth said, repeating the words spoken to her. “You are to stay here and take care of your family. Your children need you. The newborn child needs you. Your husband needs you. Do you hear me, Caroline? You must come back. You must stay here on earth.”
Rachel didn’t notice the three sets of eyes staring in wonderment at her. It was only Caroline’s she saw as the young woman opened her eyes. Her lips were dry, but her smile angelic when their gazes met.
Then Caroline was twisting her head, searching for her husband and the tense moment seemed forgotten. Except that Rachel felt as if she’d been wrung out like the shirts she tried to wash for Logan. Without another word she pushed to her feet and rushed from the room, then the house. She didn’t know where she was going, but she had to get away.
There was a hill beyond the clearing in front of the house, and Rachel headed that way, breaking off the path and rushing into the shadowy curtain of trees. Fallen leaves crunched beneath her feet as she ran. Her breathing came in gasps and her hands fought at the limbs and tangling branches that seemed to claw at her gown, pull at her hair.
It wasn’t until she reached an open meadow that she stopped, bending forward in exhaustion before dropping to her knees.
“What in the hell was that all about?”
At the sound of his voice Rachel jerked around.
She hadn’t heard anyone follow.
Logan came forward, his expression the antithesis of his sharp words. When he dropped down beside her, his arms came around her shoulders. His embrace seemed as natural as the way her head fell toward his shoulder.
“Why did you run away, Rachel?” His long fingers sifted leaves and twigs from her hair. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
She could only shake her head.
“I was, you know.” He lifted her chin with his thumb, smiling down into her upturned face. “Is it because you are afraid for Caroline?”
“She will live. I know that.” Rachel twisted away from his hold even though staying there close to him, staring into his beautiful green eyes, was all she desired.
Perhaps this was the time to tell him again that she was not from this realm. He might believe her if she explained why she’d run... what she knew. But she couldn’t. It was he who deserved the credit for saving Caroline’s life. He who had fought his own demons and helped the babe enter the world.
Scrubbing the tears from her cheeks, Rachel told him as much. “I was so proud of you.” She sat in a puddle of petticoats and skirt, reaching out for his hands to pull him down beside her. “You should do more than read your great books, you know. I think you would be a wonderful surgeon. Perhaps I could even secure you a post. Queen Charlotte keeps one close by at all times to watch over the heir—”
Rachel’s mouth clamped shut. When would she remember to stop talking of her other life? As soon as she mentioned the queen, his expression turned from pleasure to disbelief... and sorrow.
She’d only wanted to show him what she could do. What he could be.
“Are you ready to go back now?” Logan pushed to his feet, offering Rachel his hand. With a sigh she took it. But when he pulled her up she slipped, falling forward, stopping only when her stomach flattened against the broad expanse of his chest.
They stood there a moment, hearts pounding in unison, gazes locked before Logan lowered his head. The kiss was all the sweeter for the anticipation.
What started as nearly chaste ignited, exploding over them like a firestorm. His arms swept around her, drawing her even closer. His mouth opened, consuming hers. Their tongues mated, dancing in the age-old ritual of desire.
Christine Dorsey - [MacQuaid 02] Page 21