Snow sighed heavily. “You’re right. I was uncomfortable, though not so much stubborn as disappointed. I knew the wise decision would be to abstain these last couple of weeks until the bairn was born, but the thought of not feeling you inside me for that long was too much to accept.”
“Believe me when I say I miss being inside you, hearing you moan with pleasure and almost bring the roof down when you scream in climax.” He laughed when she elbowed him in the side. He patted her rounded stomach when they reached the bottom of the steps. “Besides, I don’t think the little lad likes when I come knocking.”
“He or perhaps she does make a fuss when we couple,” Snow admitted.
Tarass took her hand as they headed into the village. “It won’t be long before I’m inside you all the time.”
“I can’t wait,” Snow said on another sigh.
“Either can I,” Tarass said, fighting the arousal that crept up on him.
“I’ll be back for you,” Tarass said when they reached Twilla’s place and kissed his wife’s cheek.
“Take Thaw with you. I can tell he’s anxious to go and explore.” Snow watched them walk off, Thaw jumping up and down excited to be out in the snow.
She entered the cottage to find Helga fussing over Twilla. Snow had been pleased that Helga had taken over the duties of the healer, having been the only one with some knowledge of healing thanks to her mum who had taught her. All in the clan had been pleased as well and with guidance from Willow throughout the year, she was doing well.
“She’s been asking for you, Lady Snow,” Helga said, tears in her eyes.
Snow approached, Helga having placed a chair next to the bed for her.
“You do well for all in the clan, Helga,” Snow said as she slipped off her cloak.
Helga hurried to take it. “Thank you, m’lady. I enjoy the task. I’ll take my leave, since Twilla told me she wanted to speak with you alone.”
Snow took Twilla’s hand as soon as she sat. “I’m here, Twilla.”
The old woman’s eyes fluttered open. “I don’t have much time.”
Tears sprang to Snow’s eyes.
“Don’t be sad. It’s time for me to go. This old body of mine has had enough. I’ve lived longer than I should have and it’s time for me to truly rest. But first…”
Snow gently squeezed Twilla’s boney hand as her breath caught. She had lost much weight in the last month leaving her far too fragile.
“I need to tell you something, though I hate to burden you with it, but I feel it is necessary.” Twilla fought for a breath before continuing, “I know the reason Tarass’s parents’ left here…”
Snow was shocked and curious but she hated to see Twilla struggle to breathe. “You should rest and—”
“No time,” Twilla said and rested her breath a moment, then continued, “Tarass’s father was called away on some matter that concerned his wife. When he discovered what it was, he ordered her and his son to leave here and go to her people where he would meet her. He had to make sure those who knew what he’d been told and those who planned to tell others never got the chance.” She rested again for a few moments, then resumed talking, getting straight to the point. “Tarass’s mum, Haldana, was a direct descendant of the first Pict king. It was ruled years ago that in order to sit on the Scottish throne, the one claiming the throne had to be wed to a descendant of the Pict. If she was a direct descendant of a Pict king, then no one could deny her child’s claim to the throne. Once Haldana married Tarass’s father any child they had would be the true heir to the Scottish throne.”
Snow didn’t quite believe her words. Could they be nothing more than the ramblings of an old, ill woman? “Are you saying that Tarass is the true heir to the throne? And how was it that Haldana didn’t know of her heritage?”
“He is the true heir, and it was kept from Haldana to protect her against those trying to claim the throne. I don’t know how it was found out, but Haldana’s people are the ones who alerted Winton to the information.”
Snow was trying to understand it all, but it seemed an unbelievable tale. “Who told you?”
“No one. I overheard Tarass’s da talking with who I assumed later was someone from Haldana’s tribe. He had stopped here briefly before joining his wife and son. They discussed the whole ordeal and Winton was pleased with the news the man had brought him. All were dead who posed any threat to his wife and son, though the man urged Winton to keep his wife and son away from his homeland, at least until Tarass was a skilled warrior.” Twilla paused for a much needed breath. “When news reached me of his parents’ deaths, I thought it was what had gotten them killed and worried Tarass would face the same fate. I also worried that someone had found out about Tarass’s heritage and wanted him dead. I was relieved along with everyone else to learn that the problems that had plagued the clan had been caused by a renegade band of barbarians who sought revenge against Tarass for a battle once fought.”
Snow had strongly agreed with Tarass when he had told her that Twilla needn’t know the truth about her son. That Conall was better off left dead years ago.
However, there was something she didn’t understand. “Why not let the secret die with you? Wouldn’t that best protect Tarass?”
“A secret is no secret when more than one person knows about it, and there may come a time when ignorance would do more harm than good for your husband or first born son. So the secret is yours to carry now and do with it what you will.”
Twilla struggled to breathe, the effort it had taken to talk having stolen her limited breath, leaving her weak.
“You must rest,” Snow said, her thoughts heavy with what Twilla had told her.
“I can now,” Twilla barely whispered, her burden lifted. “Stay with me.”
“I will,” Snow said, knowing it was Twilla’s way of saying she didn’t want to die alone.
Twilla’s eyes closed and she struggled to say, “Tell me about when you first met Tarass, though I was there, I love hearing you tell it.”
Snow chuckled while her tears fell. “Now that’s a story.” And she proceeded to tell it.
It wasn’t long before Twilla’s breathing grew shallow and her hand went limp in Snow’s hand, and she took her last breath.
Snow sat with Twilla, her heart saddened. She would miss visiting with Twilla and talking, having learned much about the clan from her. She also couldn’t stop thinking on what Twilla had confided in her. Tarass’s mum and da didn’t tell him. They knew the danger of anyone knowing. He would be killed so he could never depose the King. Not that Tarass would want to, but others would believe him a threat. Did she tell her husband? Or keep the secret as Twilla had so faithfully done?
A sudden sharp pain had her bending over. She barely had time to sit up straight when another pain ripped through her stomach. She waited until the pain subsided and struggled to her feet. Another pain grabbed her when she neared the door and she braced her hand against the wall.
This wasn’t what happened with Willow and Sorrell when their bairns made it known they were ready to be born. Then she remembered Willow telling her that their mum had spit Snow out easily when born. Was this bairn getting ready to do the same?
She made it to the door when she felt a gush of liquid spill between her legs.
She had to get help. She had to get to the keep.
She stepped outside. The snow was falling heavier than before, but not so heavy she couldn’t see anything. She looked around for anyone who could get Tarass for her and spotted Roy, the young lad she had more than a couple of snowball fights with.
“Roy!” she shouted and the lad turned and hurried to her. “Hurry and get Lord Tarass.”
The lad took off.
Another pain hit Snow, grabbing her so suddenly and so hard that her legs turned weak and the next thing she knew, she was on her knees on the ground. She shook her head, worried she’d never get to her feet on her own.
She blessed the heavens when she heard Thaw�
��s barks and soon felt his licks on her face.
“Snow!” Tarass shouted when he saw his wife had collapsed, Thaw whining beside her, and he rushed to her, Slatter and Ruddock close behind him.
“The bairn,” Snow said, reaching out to him as he got to her side.
Tarass scooped her up and ran.
“Put her on the bed and get out,” Sorrell ordered.
Tarass sent her a scathing look and kept his wife in his arms. His biting look quickly turned to a cringe as Snow curled against him in pain.
“The bed,” Willow urged, entering the bedchamber and Tarass was quick to comply.
“Get out,” Sorrell ordered again.
“I’m not leaving her,” Tarass said and took hold of his wife’s hand even more determined to stay with her when her hand grasped his tightly.
Willow placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Your presence here will not help her. Leave this to the women.”
“It’s all right, Tarass,” Snow said, relieved the pain had passed.
Tarass hunched down beside the bed and kissed his wife’s cheek. “You might need me.”
Snow smiled. “I always need you, husband.”
Her playful manner made him smile until she began to cringe in pain again.
“Do something for her,” Tarass demanded, turning to Willow.
“Snow will do what’s needed just as you will leave us to help her,” Willow said.
“My sister is right,” Snow said through the pain. “It’s time for you to go.”
Tarass brought his face close to hers. “I will take my leave only if you promise me that you will shiver the rafters with my name if you should need me. Something I know you’re capable of since you do it quite often.” He grinned.
Snow chuckled and cringed at the same time and Tarass cringed along with her.
“Go. Now,” Willow ordered, pointing to the door and was surprised to see Ruddock, Sorrell’s husband standing there. Sorrell stood beside him with her arms folded across her chest.
Ruddock walked over to Tarass. “Time to go and leave your wife to the women and join the men for some ale.”
“You know I’d kick your arse if you tried to take me from her,” Tarass challenged, getting to his feet, though not letting go of his wife’s hand.
“I have no doubt of it, but I doubt you’d survive an attack from Sorrell, so I’m actually here to save your arse.”
“He’s right,” Snow and Willow said in unison and with a laugh.
“Go,” Snow urged her husband. “My sisters will take good care of me.”
Tarass kissed her cheek once more and whispered, “I love you always.”
“And I you, husband,” Snow said and felt him reluctantly let go of her hand.
“Come on, Thaw. You’re coming with me.”
The pup looked from Tarass to Snow from where he sat on the floor with his chin resting on the bed on the opposite side from Tarass, reluctant to leave Snow.
“Go with Tarass, Thaw,” Snow said. “You will return soon.”
The pup followed Tarass and Ruddock to the door.
Ruddock slapped Tarass on the back after leaving the room. “All will go well.”
“I don’t recall you wanting to leave Sorrell’s side when her birthing time came,” Tarass said as they descended the stairs.
“And who helped remove me from the room?”
“Me and Slatter,” Tarass said, recalling how he thought he and Slatter would have to drag Ruddock away from Sorrell.
“How was it that Slatter left his wife’s birthing room with no help from us?” Ruddock asked as they entered the Great Hall.
“I have a more charming tongue than the both of you do.” Slatter laughed and handed tankards of ale to the two men. “Talk and drink will get you through the birth.”
Tarass took the tankard, turning his head to glance toward the stairs, while Slatter and Ruddock talked, his thoughts and heart with his wife. The memory of almost losing her when she had suffered the miscarriage still plagued him and there was that small stab of fear that he could lose her to childbirth. His worry would not end until this birthing ordeal was done.
“I can’t believe it. You’re so fortunate. Why couldn’t I be that fortunate and deliver my son so easily?” Sorrell complained, hugging her newly born nephew to her. “I labored for hours on end. I never thought the pain would end.”
Willow laughed. “You did not labor long compared to most.”
“But I struggled to get him out of me and she,” —Sorrell nodded to Snow sitting up in bed— “spits out this one, a good-sized bairn, with ease. I tell you it’s not fair.”
Snow stretched her arms out to Sorrell and she reluctantly surrendered her nephew to his mum. She hugged him to her chest, looking down with delight, so grateful to see his face that so resembled his da’s.
“He’s a handsome one,” Willow said.
“All the lads are,” Snow said and laughed softly. “Though, I wonder how three sisters with no knowledge of brothers or the like will raise three sons.”
“With lots of prayers and courage,” Sorrell said seriously, then burst out laughing. “If we can handle our husbands, we certainly can handle wee lads. Though, I don’t know about that husband of yours, Snow. He does like to dictate. It’s like he thinks he’s a King.”
Snow almost laughed at the truth to her words, but then realized the danger of the thought, and understood why her husband’s parents rushed him out of Scotland. But Tarass’s da had seen to it that no one had lived to tell the tale. Or had he? It was a question she knew would forever haunt her.
“You pale. Are you not feeling well?” Willow asked, concerned.
“I’ve just delivered a bairn,” Snow said with a smile, as if it explained all.
Sorrell pointed at Snow. “And color returns like magic to her cheeks. I was pale and tired for days after and here she is sitting up as if after a relaxing nap when she just spewed out a bairn.”
“The details of your son’s birth grows into a tall tale with each telling,” Willow said, grinning.
“I think what matters the most about each of our sons’ births is that the three of us were together, helping, encouraging, sharing, and loving as we always did. We’ve faced many things together and we’ll face more through the years to come… together.” Snow stretched her hand out and her sisters hurried to take hold of it.
“Always together,” Willow said, sniffing back tears.
“No one will keep the courageous Macardle sisters from one another, not ever,” Sorrell said.
Willow and Sorrell leaned down to Snow so the three of them could hug and when they parted, tears filled all their eyes.
“I believe we should let my husband know he has a son,” Snow said, wiping at her eyes.
“I’ll go tell him and bring him to you,” Sorrell said, running her arm across her eyes.
“Maybe I should—”
“No,” Sorrell said, not giving Willow a chance to finish. “I cherish the thought of—”
“Be nice, Sorrell,” Willow and Snow said in unison.
“I’m always nice,” Sorrell said and left the room mumbling.
Tarass paced the floor in the Great Hall, Thaw keeping stride with him.
“You’ll both wear yourself out if you keep that up,” Ruddock advised.
“It will be hours before the bairn arrives,” Slatter said. “Don’t you recall how Ruddock and I were so patient while our wives birthed our sons?”
Tarass paled, recalling both births and the hours he had spent with each man as they suffered impatiently through it. His worries started then for when Snow would birth their bairn and now here it was. “I can’t do hours.”
Ruddock and Slatter laughed.
“You’re not the one doing the hours,” Slatter said.
Ruddock offered his own advice. “They say it gets easier with each birth.”
“Easier for the men, not the women who labor in endless pain to give you sons and daughter
s,” Sorrell said, entering the Great Hall.
“You’ve got tears in your eyes,” Tarass said, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. “Something’s happened. What’s wrong? Snow? Is Snow all right?” He went to rush past Sorrell.
“You can run like a fool to find out for yourself or I can ease your pain and tell you. It’s up to you,” Sorrell said, folding her arms across her chest.
Tarass walked over to the petite woman and glared at her. “Ruddock should keep a firmer hand on you.”
“Like you do with my sister?” Sorrell asked with a smug grin.
“Sorrell!” Ruddock snapped. “Don’t torture the man.”
“Whatever you say, husband,” Sorrell said sweetly, and Ruddock shook his head.
“Snow delivered the bairn with ease. Spit him right out she did, and she’s eager to introduce you to your son.”
Tarass grabbed Sorrell and hugged her, then ran out of the Great Hall, Thaw rushing ahead of him.
Slatter followed behind him, his pace much slower.
Ruddock went to his wife, his big powerful arms closing around her to cradle her with love. “Cry as many happy tears as you want, wife.”
And Sorrell laid her head against her husband’s thick chest and did just that.
Tarass burst into the room and stopped when he saw his wife sitting up in bed, looking as beautiful as she always did and cradling his son in her arms as Thaw sniffed at the little bundle with curiosity.
He hurried to his family.
Willow turned to leave and saw Slatter enter. He spread his arms wide, and she eagerly went to him and stepped into his loving embrace, a few tears trickling down her cheeks.
They left the room together, Slatter keeping one arm around his wife as he closed the door behind them.
“Your son,” Snow said proudly when Tarass stepped next to the bed and peered down at the bairn.
He stood speechless.
“He has his da’s handsome features,” Snow said.
Tarass touched his sleeping son as if he needed to see that he was real. “My son. My da would be proud knowing the Clan MacFiere lives on.”
Highlander Lord of Fire Page 32
