Page 69 of Hold Fast

“Well, m’laird,” she said, making circles in his chest hair and biting back a smile, “I suppose we ought to sleep.”

“Will you never keep your promise, Una?” he said drowsily. He covered them with the blankets, tucking her into his side.

“Goodnight, Ewan,” she said.

He kissed her forehead and lingered there. “Goodnight, Una,” he whispered.

She smiled, tipping her head up to kiss his jaw before snuggling closer with her head under his chin. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she thought of the does in the thickets in the woods, safe and hidden, quiet. And then all was still.

CHAPTER28

On a Tuesday, four months after the handfasting, Una woke to a frigid morning and an empty bed. Ewan had stoked and built the fire before he left, but she still shivered as she dressed quickly, her limbs feeling sluggish in the chill.

Upon entering the Great Hall, she saw that Ewan and his brothers had already gone, but Catriona sat at the laird’s table atop the dais. She waved to Una. The hall was mostly empty save for a few serving women and old men. Their chatter was a quiet drone in the background. Cat dished steaming oats into a bowl as Una took a seat. Una’s mouth watered as she smelled them. She’d missed supper the night before, having gone straight to bed after a long day of stitching and bandaging a group of young boys who claimed to have fallen out of the same tree, though no one had believed the story.

Una had just raised the spoon to her lips when she heard the door to the hall thrown open. A frantic, booming voice pierced the quiet.

“I need the healer!”

Una dropped her spoon and stood quickly, too quickly, and braced her hands on the table to steady herself as little black flecks filled her vision. A young man threaded his way through the tables, his plaid soaked with rain, his leine plastered to his body. He was big, broad in the shoulders and very, very tall. Long, straight blond hair hung limp around his face.

Her vision swam as the young man finally reached the dais and dropped to his knees before Una. She watched the water drip off his body and into the rushes.

“M’lady,” he panted. “You must come at once.”

“What has happened?”

“’Tis my brother’s wife, m’lady. Her first babe is coming, and she has been in labor for too long. Her mother and sister sent me to fetch you. Please,” he said, his voice breaking on that last, plaintive syllable.

Una wrapped her plaid more tightly around her shoulders and stepped down from the dais, steadied by a sudden rush of purpose.

“Up, Duncan,” she said, pulling firmly on his arm. She could just as easily have moved a boulder. “Let us go see to—what is her name?”

“Mary, m’lady,” he choked.

“We must see what must be done for Mary. I’ll just fetch my cloak and medicines.”

A few minutes later, Una walked next to Duncan out into the frigid, rainy morning, her satchel over her arm. The air was not quite cold enough for snow, but more than cold enough to make the rain feel like a weapon.

“How far?” she asked as they crossed the courtyard.

“Three miles, m’lady,” he answered forlornly. No wonder he was so out of breath. Going by foot was not an option.

“Come with me,” she said, entering the stable.

As soon as she stepped into the dry warmth, Mathan and Greer trotted up to her. Both dogs pressed their heads against her thighs, and Una scratched behind their ears as she walked to the large stall in the back corner, praying that Calman was not out with his master. She sighed with relief when the giant’s gray head poked out over the rail as she approached. She was still uneasy around the horses, but she trusted Calman. She had no other choice.

“I am sorry to take you from your warm bed, but I need your help, sweet boy,” she crooned as one of the grooms saddled him. “You may be saving two lives.”

Calman stamped his feet importantly but settled when the groom came to saddle him. Una felt a moment of panic. She had never mounted Calman before and had only ridden him alone that once. How was she to climb on without someone to lift her? Her question was answered when the groom brought a wooden box and held the stirrup out for her foot.

“Hurry,” she said to Duncan, gesturing behind her. He hesitated.

“But that is the laird’s horse, m’lady. I couldnae take such a liberty.”

“He’s the only horse I trust, Duncan, and time is of the essence. We must go to Mary, and I dinnae ken the way.”

Duncan hesitated only a moment longer before hoisting himself up behind her.