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This was taking too long. Aishlinn’s pains had started early the afternoon before and this afternoon was almost over. Would either of them survive? Iain stopped his pacing and shook himself. Of course they would. Aishlinn wouldn’t desert him like this. He resumed his pacing. It seemed like days since the doctor had kicked him out of the house earlier that morning. He looked up at the sky, the sunlight was already starting to wane which meant Caleb and Anna would be back from school soon.
Iain’s gaze shifted toward the fields behind the house and he sighed. There was still so much work to do there. As much as he wished his eleven year old son, Caleb, could help him in the fields, today he was glad both Anna and Caleb had been at school.
“Da?” a small voice next to him spoke up. “Is the baby here yet?”
So they were home. He hoped the bairn would hurry so he wouldn’t be stuck with too many questions. Iain patted his daughter’s unruly red hair. “Nay, Anna. The wee bairn isna here yet.”
“When will the baby come?” she asked.
Iain raked his fingers through his hair. “I dinna ken, Anna. I just dinna ken.”
“It’s been a long time,” Caleb said.
“Yes, it has.” Iain scowled and continued his pacing.
“Da?” Anna piped up. “How long did it take for Caleb and me to be born?”
“Less time than this one,” Iain snapped. “Why dinna ye...”
His sentence was swallowed up by the outraged cry from a small set of lungs. Iain turned to the door and entered. He paused in the front room, unsure where to go. Should he enter the bedroom or not? As he stood frozen in place, the doctor stepped out of the bedroom, his face an emotionless mask as he held the small, wriggling bundle.
He glanced up. “It’s a boy.” The doctor’s voice was flat, his face full of grim foreboding.
Iain looked from doctor to baby, he knew the answer before the question left his mouth. “And Aishlinn? How is she?” His voice cracked.
The doctor finally met Iain’s eyes. “There was nothing we could do.”
Iain shook his head. It couldn’t be. Aishlinn couldn’t be dead. Her God would not allow her to leave her husband with three children to raise on his own. Iain brushed past the doctor, abandoning his new son to reach his wife.
As he entered the room, the midwife was pulling the sheet over Aishlinn’s face. He let out a strangled cry. “She kenna be dead,” he whispered. The midwife tried to give him a sympathetic look before leaving him alone, but he ignored it. “She kenna be.” Iain lifted the sheet off the body. Aishlinn’s lifeless face had a contented smile on it. Her eyes were closed and if he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed she was asleep.
But as his hand brushed her cheek, the slight chill working its way through her body made him shiver with disgust. Iain closed his eyes, tears threatening to leak out the corners. He collapsed on the chair, holding her cold, stiffening hand.
“Aishlinn. How could ye do this to me? I need ye here with me. I kenna raise three bairns on me own. Ye know that! How could ye leave me?” His head fell to the bed and racking sobs shook his body.
The light was fading when he raised his head. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw Anna standing in the doorway holding something in a blanket.
“Da?” she asked, her voice quiet and timid. “Have you seen the new bairn? He’s a strong, handsome lad.” Her face held a mixture of grief and joy.
Iain’s throat tightened. Anna had always loved those who were weak, helpless, and alone. Even in the midst of her grief for her mama, she still held onto a joy and hope for the boy who had killed her.
“Nay, I ha’e not and I dinna want to. He’ll need a wet nurse...”
“Da, I can feed him with milk from the cow. Please let me do it. For Mama?” Anna’s large, brown eyes pleaded with him.
Iain closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Wee bairns need to be fed many times both day and night. I kenna ha’e ye wearing yerself out. With Aishlinn...” his voice broke and he took a deep breath. “With Aishlinn gone, we will need ye to do most of her chores. Feedin’ a wee bairn would be too much for ye. Especially wi’ your school work.”
Anna’s head drooped. “I can do it, Da,” she whispered, giving the baby a light kiss on his forehead. “I know I can.”
“Nay, Lass,” Iain said, resolve in his tone. “Ye’re but nine years old. Much too young to take this much on ye’reself. It will be hard enough for ye to keep the house clean and food on the table.”
“I’ll help her, Da,” Caleb said as he stepped around the door frame. A determined look glinted in the older boy’s eyes. “I’ll help Anna with whatever she needs help with so we can keep our brother here with us.”
Iain ground his teeth together and scowled at his two half-grown children. “Ye do realize he killed ye’re mama, do ye not?”
Anna’s head snapped up. “What?” A look of betrayal glimmered behind her tears.
Caleb stared at his father. “Are ye daft, Da? He didna kill Mama. There is no way he killed Mama. You will not pin the blame on him.” Caleb’s eyes flashed with an anger Iain had never seen in the lad before. His eldest son had somehow avoided inheriting either of his parent’s quick tempers.
Iain sighed in resignation and stood up. “Fine, we’ll keep the lad for now. But, if either of ye starts failing in school or slacking in any of ye’re chores, I’ll find a wet nurse for him.”
Anna smiled and put an arm around his waist. “Thank you, Da!”
Iain tensed before he patted Anna on the head.
Caleb nodded, his lips set in a thin line as if trying to figure something out. “What’s his name?”
“Aishlinn said if the babe was a boy, she wanted his name to be Jedidiah William Stuart,” Iain stated.
Anna smiled down at the bundle in her arms. “Welcome to the Stuart family, Jed.”
