Page 82 of Hold Fast

Whelping a litter of puppies was a usual sort of thing. Nothing extraordinary about it, truly. And yet, to watch his brother deftly arranging the pups, looking after Greer, consulting with Una, and tidying up the pen, you would have thought it the most holy of occupations for the amount of care Rabbie gave to every minute gesture and activity.

Ewan was bursting with pride for his brother, and for Una too, and meant to tell them so as he reentered the kitchen on Mathan’s heels. But the sudden silence upon reentering the kitchen stopped him. Ewan had been gone no more than a handful of minutes, and yet the cheerful atmosphere he’d left in the kitchen was gone.

Rabbie was crouched next to the pen, his head bent close to Una’s over a small, gray pup. Unlike their siblings, this pup was not squirming or squeaking. It was quiet and still. Mathan rushed to the pen, nosing at Greer’s face and neck. Ewan stood frozen in the doorway, watching Una gently but steadily rub the puppy with a soft cloth.

“What has happened?” he asked, feeling the rasp in his voice.

Una looked at him with sad eyes. “She had another. The ninth. She’s smaller. Too small, perhaps. And nae verra strong, it seems.”

Una’s tone was sad yet matter of fact. Itwasa matter of fact. Sometimes foals and pups and lambs and kits didn’t survive long in this world. Didn’t Ewan know that better than anyone? Hell, sometimespeopledidn’t survive long in this world either. Ewan felt his blood go cold as he watched Una stroke the little, gray head, crooning softly to the pup. Greer was hale and healthy, fussing over her other pups and letting Mathan fuss over her with a beatific look on her face. But the pup. What if the pup didn’t make it?

Six months prior, if someone had told him that a dog would lose the smallest of nine pups in a litter, he would have shrugged a shoulder and said something like, “Och. ’Tis the way of it.” Because it was the way of it, for some pups to be born sleeping or die shortly after.

But the horror washed over him as his brain slid from dogs to people. Because it wasalsothe way of it for bairns to be born sleeping. Or to catch fevers or sickness, to fall from great heights, or to meet other grave misfortune. Or for fully grown, fully capable people to drop dead. God’s bones, he’d been so worried about Una surviving her delivery that he’d forgotten about all the dangers that could happen before or after the event.

Jesu, Una was sitting on a drafty stone floor. What if she caught a coldnow? What if she took a fever? Or fell down the stairs when she was rushing about to see to the wounded and broke her own neck? He brought a shaky hand to his mouth, covering his lips with his fingertips.

“Mathan,” Rabbie called, breaking the quiet.

The great, shaggy dog hopped over to Rabbie. Una showed him the pup, and Mathan began to lick it. He licked the puppy’s ears and nose, its chin and back. Una flipped the pup over, and Mathan licked the underside and feet before coming back to the nose and mouth.

The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of puppies nursing and Mathan’s licking. Fenella stood by the hearth, chewing on a thumbnail with Fiona by her side, leaning her head on Fenella’s shoulder. Una and Rabbie were bent close over the puppy and Mathan’s head.

As the minutes passed, the pup appeared to be breathing better and making more noise.

“Good boy, Mathan,” Rabbie murmured, pressing his forehead against the dog’s.

“Does it live?” Ewan croaked from his place by the door, his feet still frozen on the spot.

“Aye,” Una replied, sounding tired. “But someone will need to monitor her to make sure she gets to eat. Keep the others from bullying her away.”

“Maybe s-some g-goat’s milk as well,” Rabbie offered, and Una nodded.

“Aye,” she said. “This wee ’un will need our help, won’t you, my darling?”

The pup squeaked, and Rabbie reached over Una to shuffle the oldest puppy away from Greer, picking it up and cradling it in his hands so that Una could press the runt to the now-available teat.

“Una, you are tired,” Rabbie said quietly, and Ewan shook himself back to the present. “I’ll s-stay tonight.”

“I can stay with you,” she protested. Ewan had taken the step forward to drag her away from the pen if he needed to, but Rabbie spoke before he could.

“I c-can do it. I w-want to do it.”

“Are you certain?” Una asked, but the last word was broken by a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Aye. Go to bed.”

Una nodded and rose to her feet, and Ewan wanted to know what magic Rabbie possessed to make his stubborn, defiant Una so readily compliant. Ewan crossed the room in two strides and took her hand to help her out of the birthing pen. Rabbie took her place on the floor, leaning against the wall with his long legs outstretched. Mathan lay down in the pen with his head on Rabbie’s thigh.

“Send for me if you need anything,” Una said.

“Aye,” Rabbie said with a smile. “I’ll t-take good care of them. Go and sleep.”

It wasn’t lost on Ewan that Rabbie had already developed a particular fondness for the smallest pup. It also wasn’t lost on Ewan that Rabbie’s stutter was slighter than he’d heard it in a very long time.

“Verra well,” Una said, leaning into Ewan’s side. “Take me to bed, m’laird.”

She continued to lean heavily against him as they climbed the steps out of the kitchen, as they crossed the Hall, as they climbed the wheeled staircase to the bedchamber. She sat on the side of the bed and allowed Ewan to remove her shoes, her stockings. She held her arms up while he guided her dress over her head. Ewan took the comb from the bedside table and climbed onto the bed, kneeling behind her as he combed her hair and then rebraided it, tying it off with a scrap of ribbon.