A Scot to Wed (Scottish Hearts)

by Callie Hutton

  “Do ye think he’ll come after me?”

  “Aye. Dinnae ye?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Katie tried to push Evan’s words from her mind while she gathered her things. She didn’t want to think about Richard arriving at MacDuff Castle, demanding she fulfill the false marriage contract. He might even try to force her hand by petitioning the authorities. She broke into a sweat, then remembered Evan’s words. I am yer laird. Ye are under my protection.

  Evan awaited her with Mr. MacDuff at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I dinnae want to take Gavin with me for him to witness a birth, but as you said ’tis not safe until the situation with Richard is ended. I don’t want to leave my brother here without me.”

  “’Tis all taken care of, lass. Alasdair has him and understands the threat that hangs over yer head. He won’t let anything happen to the lad.”

  Truth be known, she didn’t really trust anyone to watch over Gavin well enough, since she’d always depended on herself, but the only other choice was to bring Gavin with her, which would frighten the child. “Thank ye.”

  After packing her horse with her supplies, the three of them mounted the animals and took off toward the MacDuff cottage. About a half mile from the small house, they saw the old healer, Mrs. MacCabe, step out of the cottage with a large bucket in her hands. She went to the rain barrel alongside the house and filled the bucket. She finished her chore and greeted them with a bright smile as they all dismounted their horses.

  Katie gave her horse a pat on the head and grabbed her bag and hurried up to the midwife. “How is Mrs. MacDuff doing?”

  “As well as can be expected.” Mrs. MacCabe led her into the small cottage and placed the bucket of water on the floor right inside the front door. Moans coming from the laboring mother reached them. ’Twas a cozy house, clean and well kept, with embroideries on the walls and worn furniture.

  “This way, mistress.” Mrs. MacCabe led Katie to a small bedroom where the lass lay on her side in the bed, holding her stomach.

  “Thank ye for coming, mistress,” the lass whispered and held her breath as she gripped her stomach when another pain hit her.

  Katie dropped her bag on the floor, walked behind the lass, and rubbed her back. “Nay, Mrs. MacDuff, breathe. Dinnae hold yer breath. ’Twill make the pain easier, if ye breathe through it.”

  Mrs. MacDuff’s muscles relaxed when the pain eased. “I’m a tad bit nervous about all this. I’m verra happy to have Mrs. MacCabe here, but ’tis nice to have another midwife too. Mrs. MacCabe says ye trained with yer mother?”

  “Aye. She was a fine healer.”

  “Is she dead?”

  ’Twas not the best idea to tell the lass her mother had died from childbirth fever. Katie had since learned that washing her hands could help avoid that condition. She didn’t understand why and had no proof, but since she hadn’t had any cases of the illness since she’d started doing that, she continued the practice. “Aye. She was a wonderful woman.”

  Mrs. MacCabe wiped the sweat from the young mother’s forehead. “We’ll be right back, lass. We need to gather some things.”

  Mrs. MacDuff reached out and grabbed Mrs. MacCabe’s hand. “Dinnae leave me.” Terror was reflected in the frightened mother’s eyes.

  “Calm yerself, lass. I’m only going to the kitchen to speak with Mistress Sterling and fetch more cloths. Plus, yer husband will be wanting news.” Mrs. MacCabe patted her hand and took Katie by the arm to walk her to the kitchen.

  The young mother licked her lips and nodded.

  “There is a bit of a problem, mistress.” They had barely made it to the kitchen when Mrs. MacCabe’s whispered words stopped Katie in her tracks.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “The babe is not in the right position.”

  That was always a problem, and one midwives never wanted to hear, although it did happen more frequently than they would have liked. “Have ye tried turning the bairn?”

  “Aye. I had the lass change positions, and did some massages, but nothing has worked so far.”

  “She seems to have a while to go. When did her pains start?”

  “Mr. MacDuff came to me not a half hour after ye left this afternoon. He said Freya had been feeling poorly since the middle of the night. When I first arrived, her waters hadn’t yet broken, but they have since then.”

  “That’s good and will hurry the birth. But we need to do more about turning the bairn.” Katie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the small wooden table in the kitchen and looked at Mrs. MacCabe. “Have ye ever delivered a breech birth?”

  “Aye. Many times. But not all of them ended happily.” Mrs. MacCabe shook her head.

  “I’ve seen one. The bairn survived but we lost the mother.” Katie tapped her chin with her finger tip. “Do ye have a birthing chair?”

  “Nay. Never seen one, though I’ve heard of them.”

  “I have one back at the castle. I will ask the laird to fetch it for us. Also, I found having other women around to take the mother’s mind off her pain helps. Who are Mrs. MacDuff’s friends? Does she have family?”

  “Aye. Her sister and mother both live together, but not on MacDuff land. The sister is married to a McClung in Galway, in the extreme southwest. The lass sent a message to her mother a few months ago, but the woman wrote back that the daughter she lives with couldn’t do without her help for her to come here.”

  Not being a mother herself, Katie couldn’t imagine not traveling to another daughter who was having her first bairn. No matter how much the sister needed help, it seemed selfish to ask the mother to stay.

  “I will ask the laird to fetch the birthing chair. And give Mr. MacDuff a few comforting words.” Katie left to do so, and Mrs. MacCabe returned to the bedroom with a clean cloth to wipe Freya down.

  “How is she?” Mr. MacDuff asked the minute Katie cleared the front door.

  “She is fine. The babe is not in the best position, but I’m sure all will be well.” She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

  Mr. MacDuff looked over at Evan, his eyes wide. “What does that mean? Not in the best position?”

  She admitted to being a bit surprised that Mr. MacDuff didn’t ken what not being in the right position meant. Most likely in his fear for his wife, all logical thought left his brain.

  Evan looked to Katie, trying his best to hide his smile at the young man asking him. “I’m not a father myself, but I imagine it’s like a baby lamb or colt. Ye ken how sometimes ye need to reach in there and turn it?”

  When the young man went milk-white pale, Katie patted his arm. “’Twill be fine. Dinnae fash yerself.” She turned to Evan. “I need my birthing chair. ’Tis among my belongings that were put in my bedchamber. Can ye fetch it for me?”

  “I dinnae want to leave ye here. That was why I came with ye.” Evan placed his hands on his hips. “Does Meggie know where the birthing chair is?”

  “Aye.”

  “Good.” He looked over at Mr. MacDuff. “Go on up to the castle. Ask for Meggie and tell her Mistress Stirling needs the birthing chair.”

  Katie reached out her hand to stop him. “When ye return, call on some of yer wife’s friends, and ask them to come and visit with her.”

  “Is that a good idea?”

  “A verra good idea,” Katie said. “They will help distract yer wife from the pain, and they will help with taking care of the new babe and seeing that ye have food for the next few days.”

  “Aye.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have done that before. I was so worried about Freya, and when Mrs. MacCabe asked to have you come, too, I was afraid there was something wrong and dinnae think of anything else.”

  “It’s fine. This is yer first bairn. By the time ye get to yer fifth, ye will have it all worked out.”


  “Fifth?” The poor man looked as if he were about to pass out.

  …

  After Mr. MacDuff left them, Evan said, “How bad is the lass? I’ve lost horses and sheep when ’twas a breech birth.”

  Katie nodded. “I ken. I’ve seen a few, but only lost one mother. Mrs. MacDuff is a wee bit nervous, but I’m going to make sure Mr. MacDuff has a healthy wife and bairn when this is all over.”

  Evan had to admire the lass. She was a wee thing, but her determination and caring nature put her head and shoulders above most women, and even some men. Once again, the thought entered his mind that were he ever to change his mind about marriage, he’d want someone exactly like Mistress Katie Stirling.

  Or Mistress Katie Stirling herself.

  Seven hours had passed since Evan had arrived with Katie. Women had come and gone, and poor young MacDuff was passed out on the stable floor after drinking almost a full bottle of whisky. ’Twas not a bad idea, since the screaming coming from the bedroom of the tiny cottage made Evan want to pull his hair out.

  Finally, Mrs. MacCabe stumbled out of the house and rested on a tree stump by the rain barrel. She slumped and ran the heels of her hands over her eyes. Was the old midwife crying? Almost afraid to hear the news, Evan walked slowly up to her. She raised her eyes and his breath hitched. “Is it over?”

  She nodded. “Aye.”

  “And the babe?”

  “A fine strapping lad.” She smiled, the lines of her aged face increasing.

  “How is Mrs. MacDuff?”

  “Were it not for yer Mistress Katie, we’d be burying the poor lass tomorrow.” She shifted on the stump, and he sat alongside her on the ground, his wrists braced on his knees.

  The woman looked off into the darkness. “Mistress Katie would not give up. She worked on massaging Mrs. MacDuff’s stomach, trying to turn the babe. She soothed the mother, rubbing her back. Even with all my years of experience, I never saw someone so determined to have her way.” She grinned down at him. “She was not going to let that woman or her babe die.” She shook her head again. “Aye, yer Mistress Stirling is a remarkable lass.”

  Yer Mistress Stirling.

  Just then Katie appeared at the doorway, holding a small bundle. The glow on her face would light the Great Hall. “Where is Mr. MacDuff?”

  “I’m afraid he’s feeling a bit under the weather.”

  Her brows rose to her hairline. “Indeed? And what makes him feel so ill? Or need I ask, since I’m sure he spent his time visiting with the whisky bottle while his wife suffered.”

  “Now, lass,” Mrs. MacCabe said. “’Tis frightening to listen to someone ye love suffer and not be able to do anything about it. Remember, ’tis a man’s nature to fix things. This he couldn’t fix, so he turned away from it. Most men do the same thing. Then they swear that is the verra last bairn they will put into their wife. Until the next one.” She chuckled. “’Tis just the way it is, lass.”

  Evan climbed to his feet and approached Katie. “Ye look weary. I think it’s time to go home.” Just then two women he didn’t ken but had seen going into the house earlier joined the group outside.

  “Ach. ’Tis verra cold out here. Better bring that bairn back inside.” The older of the two women gestured to the babe in Katie’s arms.

  “Aye. I thought I would show the lad to his father, but he’s sleeping off his whisky.” She brought the babe back inside and joined him a few minutes later. “I’m ready to go home. ’Tis been a long night.”

  He removed his tartan and wrapped it around her shoulders. She shivered and he pulled her close against his side. “Ye did a good job tonight.”

  He helped her onto her horse, and they made the trip back to the castle. The sun was just making an appearance on the horizon as they drew up to the stable. They rode the horses inside, and he helped Katie down. MacDuff sauntered over. Obviously the man never slept. “I’ll take care of these; it looks like ye had a long night.”

  “Aye.” Evan said, handing the reins to the stable master.

  MacDuff looked from Evan to Katie. “How is the MacDuff lass?”

  “Fine. The mother of a fine lad.”

  MacDuff nodded. “Good.”

  With his arm wrapped around her once more, they headed toward the castle. Katie’s feet moved, but otherwise, she seemed almost asleep. It took him a few minutes to realize she was holding in a sob and tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks, dripping like spring raindrops on his tartan.

  “What’s the matter, lass?”

  A full minute passed, and he thought she would not answer him. Then she stopped, pulled the tartan snug around her body, and looked up at him. “We almost lost her.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “If I didn’t get the babe out when I did, she would have died.”

  “But ye did get the babe out. And she didna die.”

  She shook her head back and forth, a slight wailing coming from her. “I thought she would die. She was so still at the end, hardly breathing, like she’d given up.” She swallowed and looked up at him with tortured eyes. “I slapped her in the face to wake her. I had to make her push.”

  Katie turned and continued to walk. “All my efforts to turn the bairn failed. I pulled him out feet first. That was when Freya passed out, but she awoke after we cleaned her up.”

  Evan pulled her close against him again as she continued to shiver. Once they were inside the very quiet castle, he led her to the library, where he poured them both a glass of whisky.

  Katie swayed on her feet. “’Tis too early in the day for whisky.”

  “Nay. Consider it the end of the night.” He raised the glass and saluted her. “S math a rinn thu.” Well done.

  Katie took a sip and closed her eyes as the liquid slid down her throat. She moaned slightly, and he watched the muscles in her throat work. She was tired, her clothes wrinkled and dirty, her hair a tangled mess. Yet she looked beautiful.

  He set his glass down and reached his hand out, his heart pounding in his chest. “Come here, lass.”

  Her eyes never leaving his, she placed her glass on the table and took his hand. “Aye?”

  With one quick move, he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Katie’s fatigue immediately fled as Evan pulled her into his arms and took her mouth in a possessive kiss. Before she had time to think about how tired and disheveled she was, her body took over, shooting fire throughout, right to her fingertips. Her heart pounded and all the air left her lungs.

  Evan’s hands were everywhere, so she joined in, and ran her palms over his back, his shoulders, his muscled arms. He cupped her face and tilted her head so he could go deeper. His tongue nudged her lips and she opened, enjoying the taste of whisky and the dueling of their tongues.

  Every thought in her head fled, replaced with the scent of the man who held her. The faint aroma of bath soap, horses, and leather stormed her senses.

  He pulled back and studied her face. “Ach, lass. I want ye so much.” Then he continued his assault, kissing her cheeks, jaw, eyelids, then going lower to her neck and chest.

  She tilted her head to give him more access to the soft skin under her ear. She might be inexperienced, but she wasn’t innocent. She knew exactly what he wanted from her, and she was eager to give it to him. All thoughts of any repercussions had been relegated to the back of her mind, where she would not have to deal with it until later. Much, much later. He wanted her, she wanted him. What else could matter?

  Then she remembered the state she was in. She’d been sweating, handling blood, a newborn sticky babe, and the rest of the messy matter that came with childbirth. How could she ever give herself to this man when she most likely smelled like a fishwife?

  That put a damper on her passion. She drew back, pushing on his chest, leaving him looking confused.

&
nbsp; “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She shook herself. “Everything.” She backed up and adjusted the bodice of her gown that he had managed to loosen when she wasn’t thinking. But now she was thinking, and this was not a good idea. Not only was she a mess but Evan was only here for a short time, and then he would head back to Argyll, leaving her alone with any consequences from their actions.

  What a fool she was! Hadn’t she learned that men were unreliable? Her da had been a devoted husband and father until Ma had died, and then he’d abandoned her, her brother, and their clan. Evan had already told her he was headed back to Argyll as soon as he could. So she would warm his bed while he was here, then wave goodbye when he left?

  “I dinnae think this is a good idea.”

  He moved toward her. “I disagree. I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

  She held her hand up to stop him. “Nay. ’Tis not. And I am verra tired.” With those words, she fled the room, ignoring Evan’s voice calling her back.

  Out of breath from her race up the stairs, Katie summoned a very sleepy Meggie and had her prepare a bath. For as tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep until she’d washed away the fear and fatigue of the night, along with the smell.

  The babe and mother had survived the childbirth, although Freya could still have problems and would need to be watched for a few days.

  The bairn seemed to be healthy. Mrs. MacCabe was grateful for her help, and had hinted that Katie might be ready to take over the job as clan healer. That sounded wonderful, but managing the estate, castle, and healing duties right now did seem overwhelming—just as Evan had said. Everything seemed overwhelming.

  She took a quick bath; dressed in a warm, clean nightgown; and crawled into bed. “Wake me by noon,” she said to Meggie, yawning at the same time.

  Katie rolled over onto her back and glared at Meggie. “Surely it’s not noon yet?”

  “Aye, mistress. It is a few minutes past.” She bustled around the room, pulling out clean clothes and laying them on the bed. “The laird only just awoke himself. Seemed rather grumpy, though.”