Chapter Eleven

As fast as the initial months had gone by while they awaited the birth of their child, the last few seemed to crawl. It felt like an eternity until the day their child was expected. When it at last came, neither of them could contain their excitement. It had started out like any other day, but soon, it became obvious that it would be anything but that.

“Angus, I think the baby is coming,” she told him, as she doubled over for the second time in an hour. The contractions were far apart, as the doctor told her they would be initially.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“No, but these don’t feel like normal aches and pains. I think they are contractions.”

Angus beamed at her, putting his arm around her waist and smiling down at her protruding belly. It was obvious that he was just as anxious to bring their child into the world as she, but she doubted that he was nearly as nervous. So many things could go wrong and she was painfully aware of all them thanks to discussions with the other women at her church. She had told Angus time and time again about all the potential problems, but he had told her to stop listening to horror tales and it would all be fine. She hoped he was right, for everyone’s sake.

“Come on. Let’s get you over to the sofa to sit down.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be fine,” she told him. “We will just wait until they get a bit closer together and then you can go get the midwife.”

“I’ll go get her now,” he said.

“No, Angus.”

Margaret laughed at how nervous he was. He was usually so self-assured, so strong and certain about everything. Now, with a baby on the way, he was an absolute wreck just trying to wait for its arrival. It was so adorable and endearing.

“What should I do then?”

“Go back out and work. Don’t think about this right now. I’ll call you in when it is time for you to fetch her.”

“Are you crazy? No way am I leaving you in this house alone!”

“Angus! Women have been having babies for thousands of years. It takes a while. Go keep yourself busy while we wait for it to get closer to time. It could be hours, or even days.”

“Days? You’re kidding me, right? Days?”

“Yes, Angus. Days. Now, shoo!”

Margaret laughed at the expression of disbelief on his face. He stood gawking at her for a moment, but finally left the house to work in the field, though she found him making excuses to come in for frequent drinks of water or to retrieve completely unnecessary items he decided he needed outside.

“Fine, Angus. Just stay in here with me. You’re going to drive us both bonkers!”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he told her. “I’ll get cleaned up a bit so I’m ready to go when it is time to go get the midwife.”

“You do that.”

Margaret chuckled to herself as he went to wash up, but while he was gone, a thought occurred to her that hadn’t before. When he returned, she didn’t hesitate to ask it.

“Angus, this baby… he or she won’t appear any different when born?”

“You mean will our baby come out looking like some sort of baby lizard or with scaled toes?”

She noted the bemused smile on his face and chastised herself for asking such a ridiculous question. Then again, it was a fair enough one considering that it was her first child and she knew no one else who had given birth to a shifter’s baby. At least, as far as she knew, she didn’t.

“Yes. I feel silly for asking now.”

“No. Don’t. I understand that all of this is different for you. I promise you that our baby will look like every other baby.”

“Good to know. Anything else might be hard to explain. I honestly can’t believe I haven’t thought to ask before.”

“Just be careful that it doesn’t get heartburn while you are feeding it.”

“What? Why?”

“Dragon babies tend to burp up little fireballs.”

“They do not!”

“They do. I should have mentioned it before.”

“Oh, my God.”

Angus burst into laughter as she contemplated that pain that could possibly result in. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he was merely teasing her.

“You’re not funny.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she replied. Her smile turned into a grimace as another pain racked her body. She had barely recovered from it when another seemed to grip her. It seemed like things had taken a very quick turn toward urgent.

“Get the midwife. Hurry,” she breathed.

Angus didn’t wait for her to say anything else. He was out the door like a shot, jumping onto the horse he had saddled earlier in preparation and galloping down the road to a house located a few farms away. Margaret had no idea how long it took him to get there. It seemed like only moments before he was back with the mid-wife in tow. He helped her down, untying her medical case from the strap on the horse’s side before hurrying to open the front door for her to come in.

Margaret watched from where she was resting on the sofa as he followed her inside, completely out of breath and incredibly nervous looking. All the color had drained from his normally well-tanned face as he took a seat beside her and reached for her hand in his.

“All right, Margaret. Angus tells me it is time to bring a new McCord into the world. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be,” she replied.

The contractions were growing closer as the midwife talked her through things and prepared her for the birth. Margaret had never been so scared in her life and she hurt so much. The pain was incredible and seemed to only increase as the time grew closer. She wondered if it was normal to be in this much pain or if something was wrong, but she didn’t ask for fear of seeming weak. Instead, she tried to just grit her teeth and get through it.

“Okay, Margaret. I can see the top of the baby’s head. We’re almost there,” the midwife told her after a while. “When I tell you to, I want you to push. Can you do that for me?”

Margaret nodded, panting and sweating like she had never done in her life. Angus seemed still just as nervous as he had been the moment she had said the baby was coming as he mopped her head with a cool rag. His other hand was firmly gripped in hers. She was surprised not to hear the bones in it cracking with the pressure of how hard she gripped it in her own.

“Push, Margaret,” the midwife told her, talking her through each contraction and each push until she felt like she couldn’t do this much longer. Finally, when she thought she had nothing left to give, the baby was born and the cord cut as the midwife announced its arrival. “Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby boy!”

Margaret watched as she held him up and he cried out. Then she wrapped him up in a clean white blanket and laid him on his mother’s chest while she tended to her once again. When she was done, she smiled at the two of them.

“I trust you remember what we talked about as far as caring for yourself and the baby now that he is out here in the free world?”

“I do,” Margaret told her.

“Then, I will leave you to enjoy your son.”

“I’ll take you back home,” Angus told her.

“No. Don’t bother. I’m going to wait on the front porch for a bit. Get some fresh air. My son should be by in a little while and I’m going to go on into town with him. I’ll stop by on my way back just to check in with the two of you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Angus told her, a sentiment repeated by Margaret as the woman made her way outside.

“A boy! I’m so proud,” Angus said to her as he closed the door and sat down beside where she lay to softly touch their son’s wrinkly skin. The baby was no longer crying, but content to lay on his mother’s breast and listen to the heartbeat that had lulled him for months from inside her.

They named him Aaron Paul. The first name after her father and the middle after Angus’s. He was just as beautiful as she had imagined he would be, looking very much like Angus with the exception of her bright blue eyes.