Sutherland's Secret (15 page)

Fear pierced Eleanor’s heart and she prayed that Brice would hide before the soldiers discovered him. But then the forest swallowed her up and she could see him no more. She knew the best thing to do was to get as far into the forest as possible, so as not to be discovered.

Her chest was pounding in dread as she ducked beneath low tree branches. She looked around but could find no one; better yet, she couldn’t hear anyone. That was good.

She kept riding. Eventually the trees became so dense that she had to dismount and lead her horse through the brush. She stopped every now and then to listen and evaluate the surroundings. But everything looked the same, and she had no idea how long she’d been walking. Surely the English had passed by now.

Then she heard a noise. A low moan. She strained to hear. There it was again. To her right. As quietly as possible, she made her way in that direction to find one of Brice’s men, the one who had taken the mother with him. The woman was standing beside the horse, bent in half, her hand supporting her belly and her face contorted in pain. Brice’s man stood to the side, a look of raw terror on his pale face.

“What’s happening?” Eleanor whispered.

“I think the babe is coming,” he said, his voice strangled as he looked around wildly. Eleanor didn’t know if he was afraid of the English finding them or of being present during a birth. She wasn’t enamored of either situation herself.

She approached the woman and put a hand on her shoulder. The woman looked up at her. She was much younger than what she first appeared, probably a good five years younger than Eleanor’s twenty-three years.

“Are you ill?” Eleanor asked hopefully.

The woman shook her head and gasped, then moaned low.

“Is the babe coming?”

The woman nodded and Eleanor cursed silently. This was not a good time for birthing a baby. Not to mention that she had no idea how to birth a baby, and she was certain Brice’s man didn’t know, either.

The woman straightened, closed her eyes, and breathed in and out of clenched teeth as her hand made circling motions on her belly.

“What do you need me to do?” Eleanor asked.

“Help me walk,” the woman said. She took Eleanor’s arm and they walked away from the horse and the man.

“I have no idea how to help you,” Eleanor finally admitted.

The woman’s smile was more of a grimace. “No’ much to it. The babe comes on its own.”

“How many have you had?” Eleanor asked in surprise.

“Four. One that lived.” She suddenly bent over and moaned low.

Helpless, Eleanor could only watch until the pain ended. She knew so little about birthing. Next to nothing. Actually she knew nothing other than the very basics.

The poor woman. She’d birthed four babies, and only one had lived. How terrifying.

The woman straightened and drew in a deep breath. “That one was powerful. Won’t be much time.” She turned stricken eyes to Eleanor. “I thought we could make it to Canada before the babe arrived. I had hoped. But it’s early.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and Eleanor could read her thoughts plainly on her face. What if this one didn’t make it?

“My name is Eleanor,” Eleanor said, trying to take the woman’s mind off her problems, although she knew that might be a tall task.

“Morna is my name. I thank ye.”

Eleanor waved her hand in the air as if it were just another day delivering a baby. The thought had her insides quivering. She looked back at Brice’s man, who had taken a blanket off the back of the horse and was shaking it out.

“I’ll be right back, Morna. Don’t wander far.”

The woman chuckled, which had been Eleanor’s hope. Eleanor approached the man. “She’s going to have this baby now.”

“Here?” He looked around the forest as if hoping a hut would suddenly appear or, better yet, a midwife. Eleanor wished for the midwife as well.

“Yes, here. I need you to find a soft place to lay that blanket.”

“On the forest floor?” he asked.

“Yes,” Eleanor snapped. “She’s having this baby here, on the forest floor. It’s not as if we can tell the little one to wait for a more opportune moment.”

He swallowed and nodded, then set off to find a comfortable spot for a woman to birth a baby.

Morna was bent over again, her hand clutching her belly, her other hand clutching a tree limb that appeared to be the only thing holding her up. “It’s time,” she gasped between pains. A keening sound erupted from her, and she bit it off quickly.

“Well, then. Let’s have a baby,” Eleanor said with false cheer.

Brice’s blood had turned cold with fear. He couldn’t find Eleanor anywhere. As per his instructions, his men had disappeared into the nearby trees when they’d been warned that English soldiers were approaching. However, Eleanor had not been behind him like he’d thought, and now he couldn’t find her.

He wanted to call out her name, to scream for her. But he knew that was not possible. The soldiers were not that far away, and who knew if another retinue was nearby. He rode through the forest, but that was fruitless. He could be riding in circles looking for her. He had no idea where she had gone.

He’d found most of his men and the father and son they were transporting, but no Eleanor and not the mother, either. He did a quick head count. He was also missing Oliver, one of his younger men. He prayed they were together and that nothing bad had befallen them. With the mother, heavy with child, they would be moving slowly. Pray God the soldiers had not spotted them as easy prey. He knew his Eleanor enough to know she would fight like hell for that mother.

He sat in his saddle and gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep from running around like a lunatic looking for her.

He had to find out if the English had caught her. He had to catch up with the English and see for himself that they didn’t have Eleanor.

“Where are ye going?” Lachlan asked, putting his horse between Brice and the road.

Brice had no time for this. The longer he waited, the farther the English, and possibly Eleanor, got. “I have to see if the English have her.”

“That is madness. Ye’ll get caught.”

“Nay. I’ll stay to the shadows, but I have to know, Lachlan.”

“She went into the forest, just like ye told her to do.”

Brice hoped to God that was true, but it was easier to follow the English and assuage that fear first. He glared at Lachlan. “What if it were Hannah? What would ye do?”

Lachlan hesitated, then moved his mount out of the way.

“Try to round up the men,” Brice said. “And look for Eleanor.”

He rode on, his heart in his stomach and a prayer on his lips. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. He would die if he lost Eleanor.

He roughly pushed away the thought that he was going to lose her no matter what when his ship arrived in a week’s time.

He was as stealthy as he could be. Galad was a good horse, well trained, and Brice knew he would do what he was told. Brice had left the other men and the two refugees in Lachlan’s care. They had another safe house to go to before the night was over. But first Eleanor.

Brice caught up to the English three quarters of an hour later and pulled Galad back. There were six of them riding in single file, all silent. Eleanor wasn’t with them and neither was Oliver.

Brice slumped in his saddle, his heart thundering. But his relief didn’t last long, because he knew she was still out there somewhere.

He turned his mount around and found Lachlan alone in the middle of the road, waiting for him. When he saw his friend’s expression, his heart dropped.

“What happened?” Brice forced the words through a tight throat.

“You best come with me,” Lachlan said.

“Tell me.”

Lachlan shook his head. “ ’Tis best ye see this for yerself.”

For once Brice didn’t have the breath to argue or demand. Feeling more helpless than he ever had, he meekly followed Lachlan through the thick brush and trees.

They rode for about ten minutes until he could see a faint light through the trees. He thought he should probably yell at someone for lighting the way for the English to find them, but he found he didn’t have the voice to do so. The light was faint anyway, and they were well away from the main road.

He heard it first, the cry. It didn’t sound human; it was more animal-like. “What the—”

Lachlan held up his fist, the sign they used for “quiet” and “halt.” Lachlan reined his horse in and slid off. Brice followed suit only to have his knees almost give out on him, his legs were shaking so badly. His entire body was shaking. He didn’t think he’d ever felt such fear. He had no idea what he was going to find on the other side of those trees, but to judge by Lachlan’s expression, it couldn’t be good.

They cleared the trees, and at first all Brice saw were his men in a semicircle, looking at something on the ground. They parted when they saw him coming.

Eleanor was sitting on the ground, her back to them. In front of her was the woman they had been transporting, her husband at her head.

Eleanor looked over her shoulder and smiled a weary smile. Brice swore his knees buckled, but with some force, he straightened them and walked over to her. She held something in the crook of her arm. Brice dropped to his knees.

“It’s a girl,” she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. Gently she pulled a blanket away to reveal the scrunched-up red face of a newborn baby.

His gaze flew to hers. “What in the—”

“She was born just minutes ago. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Brice sat back on his heels, stunned. Never, in all the time he’d been running the
Staran,
had someone given birth on the trail. It led to complications, but for now he couldn’t think of those. He looked at the mother, clearly exhausted, and the beaming father and the son, now an older brother, who was watching it all with wide, unsure eyes.

“Where are the soldiers?” Lachlan asked softly so the family didn’t hear.

Brice stood and stepped away. “They’ve moved on. Unless something pulls them back, we’ll no’ be hearing from them this night.”

Lachlan looked at the group of people before them with a troubled frown. “We still have another group to pick up.”

Brice nodded. “I know. We need to get the mother and babe to Cait. She’ll know what to do with them.”

Cait Campbell was the only healer in these parts, since Brice had lost his healer in the spring. Though it was difficult not having someone near, he trusted Cait, even though she was a Campbell—but only by marriage. There was a difference.

His gaze followed Lachlan’s, but all he could see was Eleanor sitting on the ground, the babe looking so natural in her arms. Her head was bent toward the baby, and he could see her whispering in the wee’un’s ear as she stroked the tiny fingers.

The scene looked so right, so natural, that it made his heart hurt. If she were with child, he would never be able to see her hold his babe.

He dragged his gaze away. “I’ll take the other men and Eleanor and fetch the others and move them. You take the family to Cait.”

Brice knelt next to Eleanor and glanced at the babe, but that hurt too much, so he concentrated on Eleanor. “We have to move. ’Tis too dangerous to stay here like this. Lachlan, Oliver, and Samuel will take the mother and babe to the closest healer.”

Eleanor nodded and handed the babe back to her mother. The woman was crying, silent tears dripping down her cheeks. The father cradled mother and baby to him and cried with her.

“Please let us go with ye,” the mother begged Brice. “We’re all in danger if we stay.”

Brice shook his head. “It’s no’ safe for ye. Ye need to be looked over by the healer, and the wee’un, too. If all’s well, ye can be on the next boat.”

“We’ll be fine,” Morna said, desperation in her voice. “I promise we won’t be a burden.”

Brice hesitated. He understood how she felt. They were being hunted, and the longer they stayed in Scotland, the bigger their chance of being found. But he couldn’t risk it. He had to leave them behind. “I’m sorry,” he said before turning his back on her. The mother wept louder, and her husband patted her on the back, while Brice felt like he’d sentenced these people to death. Cait would protect them, and he would do everything in his power to get them on that next ship.

“It’s her fifth birth,” Eleanor whispered as she stepped up beside him. “All the others died except for her son and now her daughter.”

Brice nodded briskly. He knew he was appearing heartless, although he was anything but. He felt so keenly for these people that his heart was breaking. At this point in the journey, they’d accepted that they were leaving their homeland and their families behind. They were looking forward to a life without fear. To be told they had to wait was torture. He’d had to do it before, and he had to think of the whole. He couldn’t put others’ lives in danger for a few.

Eleanor helped the woman stand and held her steady. Brice knew nothing of birthing and wasn’t certain it was safe for the woman to be up and walking, but they needed to move. Traveling with her and a baby who could cry at any moment would be dangerous.

“I want to go with her,” Eleanor said.

“Nay.”

“It wasn’t a question, Brice. You can’t send this woman and her newborn baby out into the wilderness with a bunch of men. It’s not right.”

“It will have to do. Ye’re no’ going with them.”

Her eyes flashed, and he almost winced at the anger directed at him. “I’m going. She needs another woman with her until she gets to the healer.”

Brice took an angry step toward her. “Do ye know how dangerous this is? That babe could cry out at any moment and alert passing soldiers.”

“It doesn’t matter if we’re heading toward the healer or the next safe house, the same could happen either way.”

He was toe-to-toe with her, angry that she wanted to put herself in danger. Hell, he’d just calmed his racing heart from when he thought she was in the hands of the enemy. “Ye promised ye would follow what I told ye.”

She hesitated and he knew he had her. The only reason he’d brought her was because she’d sworn to him that she would do everything he said.

“I brought that baby into the world,” she said softly. “Me. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was beautiful and unpleasant at the same time. I caught her with my own hands.” She held up her hands. Blood was caked in her fingernails, but she looked at her hands in awe. “I was the first one to touch her and hold her, and I’ll see her to safety. I will, Brice.”

He drew in a breath through clenched teeth. “When I couldn’t find ye after the soldiers passed, I thought they had ye. I thought ye’d been captured, and I…” He stopped, never having been one to easily express his emotions. “It tore me apart, thinking ye were with them. I went after them, and Eleanor, I don’t know what I would have done if ye had been with them. I think I would have gone mad and killed them all.”

Her expression softened and she touched his cheek. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I was alone in the woods until I stumbled across Oliver and Morna. She was already laboring. I didn’t know what to do, but she told me. Even in her pain, she walked me through it. It was a miracle, Brice. A beautiful, wondrous miracle.”

“We have to go in the direction of the soldiers to get her to the healer. I do no’ want ye that close to them.”

“They’re far ahead of us. I have to do this, Brice.”

He knew when he had lost, and he had definitely lost this battle. “Mount up,” he said, furious with her. Furious with himself. Furious with Morna for putting them all in danger. But more than these, he was furious with his life and the fact that everything conspired against him. All he wanted was to live peacefully with Eleanor at his side, but that was never to be. So instead he mounted up and watched as his men headed to the other safe houses.

The father and mother rode together. The boy rode with Oliver, and Eleanor and Brice rode their own mounts. He had to admit that the babe was quiet in her mother’s arms.

About halfway there, the mother was falling asleep from exhaustion and handed the babe off to Eleanor. For not having ridden, Eleanor was adept at handling her horse and cradling the wee babe in her arms.

The look on her face was pure joy as she gazed down at the baby.

Eleanor had wanted a child only because it was expected of her to provide Charles an heir. She’d never had an active maternal instinct. When months went by and she had not conceived, she’d thought very little of it. Both families would comment that it was time she and Charles start filling the nursery, but Eleanor would laugh them off, not overly concerned.

But watching this newborn baby come into the world, witnessing the mother struggling to expel it from her body and the joy on her face when she heard the lusty cries of her daughter, had tugged at something deep inside Eleanor.

She looked down on the baby, who was fast asleep in her arms, her hands tucked up around her cheeks. Tears welled in Eleanor’s eyes, and she had to blink them away in order to guide her horse.

Brice was watching her closely with a look on his face that she could not describe. It was as if he yearned for something he could not have and didn’t want to show.

Eleanor now wanted her own baby with a desperation that she had felt only one other time in her life, and that had been the desperation to escape Blackwood’s prison.

She wanted a baby. She wanted Brice’s baby. She wanted to live with Brice forever, and make and raise more babies, but that was not to be. They had only seven—now six—days left together. Six days to live a lifetime of memories, and none of them would be to see the children they could have together.

They reached the healer’s house. It wasn’t a hut, like Eleanor had been expecting. It was a two-story stone structure tucked far into the woods and accessible only by a very narrow path that they had to ride single file.

The baby was beginning to wake up in Eleanor’s arms. Soon it would want to be fed, and that was something Eleanor could not help with. They reached the healer’s front door. Brice held out his arms for the baby, and Eleanor hesitated before handing her over, knowing she would never hold her again. She hoped the family would make it to Canada and live a rich, full life, and she hoped the mother would tell the baby girl all about her birth and the woman who had helped her come into the world.

She watched as Brice curled a big strong arm around the tiny babe and took her to her mother.

The healer—Eleanor had heard Brice call her Cait—stood at the door, watching. Eleanor was surprised to see that Cait was young and beautiful, with red hair and sharp, observant eyes. Brice handed the baby to her mother and walked over to Cait. They conversed quietly, Cait shooting occasional glances at the small family. She nodded and then smiled at the family, who were huddled together as if protecting the baby.

Cait held out her hands to them and spoke quietly. The father and son entered the healer’s home, but the mother hesitated before walking over to Eleanor. “I thank ye,” she said with tears in her eyes. “If no’ for ye, I don’t know what would have happened.”

Eleanor smiled through her own tears. “It was an honor to help. I wish you and your family luck and a happy life.”

Morna nodded before she turned around and disappeared into the healer’s home.

“We must go, Eleanor.” Brice helped her back up on her mount, and they all turned to go home. Eleanor’s arms felt empty and her heart cold.