Kate Robbins - The Highland Chiefs Series 03 by Enemy of the Highlander Read Free Book Online

pushed and Freya watched in horror as a lifeless little form slid from her body. Bridget placed her fingers in the babe’s mouth to clear the airways, but nothing would bring the babe to make the sound everyone desperately longed for.
    “Fergus, where are my babies?” Nessia asked, her voice a mere whisper.
    Bridget shook her head and frowned. Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks as she wrapped the babe in the same way as the first child.
    “Bring the babe to her mother,” Bridget said to Freya.
    An ache she had not experienced in two years welled up within her. Her tears could not be contained as she moved to Nessia’s side and placed her daughter in her arms.
    Fergus appeared only to then notice the boy’s lifelessness.
    “No, no, no, no!” He looked at Bridget. “Please, no,” he whispered. He picked up the bundle and rocked it.
    “Aye lad,” she said, placing her hands over his arms. “We could not save the little laddie. God has called him home again. You must focus on your daughter and her mother now, for they are well.”
    “What do we do with him?” Fergus asked.
    “We’ll give him a proper burial,” Bridget said, through her tears. “One befitting a laird’s son.”
    “Do not take him just yet.”
    “I will not lad.”
    Nessia held her daughter and cried. Fergus wrapped his arms around them both and closed his eyes, nodding to Bridget.
    “Freya, fetch Father Morris. The bairn will need blessing.”
    With a heavy heart, Freya left the chamber.
    “Father,” she said when she found him in the chapel. “Nessia’s bairns have come early—”
    “Bairns?”
    “Aye, and one—” Freya choked on her sob.
    Father Morris was beside her in an instant. “Oh, love, I am so sorry.” He shushed her when she whimpered. “Only our Lord knows why such things happen. ’Tis part of the great mystery.”
    Freya was not ready to hear this yet. “Father, please, they need you.”
    He nodded and left the chapel. Freya knew what it was like to lose a child, but not one full term. Her heart was ready to break in two with anguish for Nessia’s loss and the memory of her own. The sadness had nearly consumed her. Then came the guilt. Had she done something wrong to cause the miscarriage? Surely, Nessia had not.
    Freya left the chapel to seek the place of solace she knew best.
    Heading up the footpath to Castle Varrich was like drinking something cool on a hot day. Knowing the peace she found sitting at its base and looking out over the kyle quickened her steps. Strands of her hair had come loose during the birthing and she had not bothered to rebraid. She must look a fright!
    The closer she came to the watch tower, the faster she climbed, so that by the end, she was almost running toward it.
    When she reached the summit, her tears flowed like a stream after spring rains. Her chest ached, both from her run, and from pent up emotion. She doubled over on her favourite rock and let the anguish take over. For two years she had suppressed the agony of dealing with such a loss alone. She really did not know if she was capable of helping Nessia as she was close to falling into darkness again.
    “Freya!” Ronan’s voice rippled through her.
    She did not want to have to face anyone now and especially not him.
    He wrapped his arms around her, the action bring with it a fresh wave of agony. Why could not they have been together? Losing him in addition to their child had been too much to take, so she had suppressed it. Today’s events seemed to have broken the dam.
    “’Twill be well again, love. I have you,” he whispered.
    She would know that voice anywhere. “Oh, God! Ronan, she lost the babe!” She cried for Nessia and Fergus, for herself, and for Ronan.
    “Shhhh. I am here.”
    Ronan’s strong arms enveloped her and rocked her, bringing the comfort she craved until her tears subsided. Once her tears were spent, she leaned back to find that he, too, had red eyes. Had he wept as well?
    Freya tried sitting up,