Goblin Moon (22 page)

Tearach carefully lifted her into his arms. “It'll be better when we reach the Dolmen. I promise."

By the time they reached the structure, Kathy's pains were coming half an hour apart. There was still time. He took off his jerkin and readied a bed for her beneath the ancient structure. When he was sure it was as comfortable as he could make it, he helped her out of her robe and heaped warm blankets around her. With a sigh, she settled within them and closed her eyes. He started the traditional fire. It must burn continuously for three days. It would supply Kathy with needed warmth and both of them with hot food. The night air grew colder. Perfect weather for a Goblin, but not for a human mother giving birth to one.

About the Dolmen, he placed sacred plants such as club moss for blessings and protection, feverfew to ward off fever, and silver fir for protection of a mother and her unborn child. Then he readied herbal tea to help Kathy rest. For him, there was a large bottle of scotch. He hadn't drunk much alcohol since the night they'd conceived the baby. Before this ordeal ended, he felt he'd have need of the entire bottle.

Kathy moaned as another pain came. It was excruciating, but not as bad as before they'd reached the Dolmen. She wasn't as afraid of the pain as how she'd respond to it. Cairna had told her Goblin women could withstand as much or more pain than their men. It was a matter of pride that she do her best, especially since Mabb was sure to hear and remark about her lack of endurance. The Goblin woman had made herself scarce, but Kathy knew she'd be back. And she'd come to tear apart what little there was of Kathy's and Tearach's relationship.

When the pain became too intense, Tearach was beside her in an instant. He gently lifted her so that she rested against his chest, and then he stroked her lower back. “Breathe deeply, Kathy. Try not to push yet."

She knew the routine. How many babies had she delivered for other women? Now she understood why there was so much screaming. “Tearach,” she gasped, “this sort of hurts."

For her to admit it told him she was in a great deal of discomfort. She tried to make a joke of it by smiling, but it wasn't funny. It was time to take some of her pain into himself. “Take my hand, close your eyes and concentrate on my grip,” he instructed.

Kathy did as she was told. At first, his grip was brutally strong. The more she squeezed back, the more the pain seemed to diminish, so she squeezed even harder.

Tearach felt Kathy's agony. It was like her womb was being ripped apart. It shot through his own abdomen like a knife. Every instinct he had was for her safety and to help her, but there was only so much pain he could take from her. The rest she'd have to endure on her own. Gradually, she began to breathe easier. The spells surrounding the sacred site were taking over. It had just taken a little longer, maybe because she wasn't a creature of magic. Thousands of years ago, her kind had used the old ways, but the mythological practices were forever lost in the outsider's technological world.

"Better?” he asked.

Kathy nodded and rested against Tearach. For a very long time, he held her and she silently prayed for her baby's safety. Though they took some time to come, the next wave of contractions weren't so hard to take. Sometime later, they came much quicker. She closed her eyes and felt Tearach lower her back into the nest of blankets.

He lifted the coverings from the lower half of her body and placed himself between her thighs. There was no sign of the baby's head. Kathy writhed and began to push. He coached her as he'd been instructed. She screamed and pulled against the blankets. Her agony was his. He spoke softly and crooned to her. Anything to make the pain more bearable. Much later that evening, she cried out, and he could finally see the baby's head. Months of concern were overshadowed by the pure awe of seeing his child making its way into the world, of seeing its mother valiantly trying to deliver a healthy baby.

Kathy pushed as hard as she could. She wanted the baby out of her as soon as possible. Even with the effects of the magical Dolmen, the agony was overwhelming. Then she heard a baby crying. She laughed and cried as the pressure abated and she knew the baby was breathing. Tearach was saying something, but everything went dark.

Tearach quickly washed and dried the baby with spring water, then wrapped it in a very warm blanket. Kathy would awaken in moments. Until then, he held his little daughter and wept. Except for her mother, she was the most beautiful little thing he'd ever laid eyes on. She was a pale green, sported a thatch of thick, black hair and was so tiny. She couldn't weigh more than five pounds, and he could hold her in one hand. Her small limbs flailed at the injustice of being torn from her mother's womb and pushed into a cold, harsh world. Finally, she ceased her crying and stretched. He brought her close to his heart, kissed her forehead and sobbed.

"Welcome into the world, sweetheart. Now ... stay with us.
Please, please stay!
” As if to tell him she had no intention of going anywhere, she grabbed the thumb and little finger of his hand and gripped hard.

"Let me have her,” Kathy said as she groggily awoke and tried to push herself into a sitting position.

Tearach supported Kathy with one hand and handed her the baby with the other. “I'm afraid she looks like me.” He felt the need to explain her green skin before Kathy actually saw her.

"I don't care what she ... Oh, Tearach! She's perfect. Look at this sweet little face."

It didn't surprise him that, for Kathy, it was love at first sight. She had always wanted the baby. She really didn't give a damn about its color.

Dragging his gaze away from his lovely little daughter and resuming his responsibilities, Tearach took action. He quickly checked to see if Kathy's bleeding had stopped, then if her breathing and the baby's still seemed normal. Everything was exactly as it should be, but this had happened before. Some of the babies had shown every sign of surviving then, during the first night, they'd all stopped breathing.

Kathy was so busy fussing over the baby, counting fingers and toes that he couldn't bring himself to ready her for what he knew would come. “Please, Kathy, can I hold her once more?"

"Let's both hold her,” Kathy suggested and leaned against him.

He wrapped his arms around them both and looked down at the wonderful child they'd produced. “You're right. She
is
perfect. The most perfect little baby I've ever seen.” Then, he paused. “It ... it really doesn't bother you that she doesn't seem to have any of your features? Except for her lighter coloring, she's all Goblin."

She stared at him. “You know it doesn't!"

He nodded. “Yes, I guess I do know. I suppose I just wanted to hear the words. I'm sorry."

Kathy touched his face and then hugged him. “It's all right. I understand."

She continued to croon over the baby and cuddle her. He watched her fight off the sleep she desperately needed. An hour later, her efforts finally failed, and she slipped into a deep slumber. The child was tucked into her arms. Tearach carefully took the baby into his embrace and rocked her before putting her back into Kathy's embrace.

It was just past midnight. He looked into the night sky and saw a bright orange moon. A Goblin Moon, as those of the Order called it. His people had always believed its appearance predicted the best of luck. He swallowed hard and settled himself back beside Kathy. His hand rested on the baby's head. He was determined not to leave the infant's side until everything was over. If Kathy still slept, he'd let her sleep on. Then, he'd steal the dead baby away and have Cairna take Kathy back to the cottage. Neither Kathy nor Cairna would ever see him again. It would be over before anyone could stop him. The fire would be built, and he and the baby would be gone.

But as the night wore on, a puzzling, ridiculously wonderful thing happened. The baby kept breathing. She squirmed now and again and yawned, but her respiration seemed perfect. Near dawn, Kathy woke and lifted the baby to her breast. The child drank like she was starving.

Kathy sighed in relief. “I hadn't expected my milk to come so soon. Maybe that has something to do with bearing a little girl with Goblin blood, but there seems to be so much of it.” When she realized Tearach was staring at her in shock, she asked, “What's wrong?"

"None of the others ... they never took milk."

She grinned. “What did they drink? Whiskey?"

"No.” He shook his head. “They never ate. No one could get any of them to take anything."

"Well, our daughter is taking quite a lot."

Have I been wrong? Was the Sorceress right
? His heart began to pound. As soon as the baby quit nursing and Kathy burped her, he held out his hands. Kathy readily handed the little bundle over.

He gazed at the baby and kept doing so until the first rays of light touched her face. “
She'll live
,” he whispered.

"I wish I could say I told you so, but it wouldn't be very kind, would it?” Kathy said softly, realizing Tearach was almost in a state of apoplexy. Having convinced himself that gloom and doom lay ahead, he didn't know how to respond to being happy. It had been so long since he'd had a reason to feel that emotion, she feared he might not know how to deal with it.

He raised his head and gazed at her through a curtain of tears. “What a coward I am."

"No. No, you're not! And don't you ever say that again,” Kathy reprimanded. Then she began to cry for them both as she pulled Tearach to her and hugged him fiercely. “You're just someone who lost hope for a while. Now you have it back."

He cradled the baby and held on to Kathy as if his very life depended upon it. There was so much to be said and done. He'd been an idiot! How did he begin to make up for all his stupidity?

When they'd gained some semblance of control, he lowered Kathy and the baby back onto the blankets and tucked them both in. Soon, they were asleep, and he was left to do some serious thinking about the course of his life—past, present and future.

Now that he had a future to plan, his whole body shook with emotions that had been bottled up since Exmoor, and he actually wept as eight long years of pent-up emotions poured out.

The next time Kathy awoke, the morning sun was high in the sky. It was a perfect autumn morning and the baby cried for her feeding. As the little one nursed, Kathy looked up to find a very tall man walking toward her with a pot of tea. It looked like Tearach, but his face had completely changed. The angry, disparaging look had disappeared. As handsome as he'd been,
this
man was heart stopping.

"Tearach?"

"Yes, Kathy?” He smiled as he lowered himself next to her and gazed at the baby.

Her heart almost broke in two. She'd never seen him smile, and no nova could have been brighter or more perfect.

He poured her a cup of tea and then picked up the baby. “It's my turn to hold her now. You relax. I'll have food ready in no time."

She watched him lift the baby up and kiss her. The expression on his face was filled with pure love and total devotion. He began to hum something like a lullaby in a low, wonderful baritone.

"What's that song?"

"Something my parents sang to us when we were little. It's ancient. There may have been words at one time, but I don't remember hearing them. Still, the tune is nice. Let's see if she likes it.” He began to hum a little louder.

Kathy watched as their newborn daughter turned her head and listened to the sound of her father's voice. It was the sweetest scene she'd ever witnessed, and Tearach's voice filled the air more beautifully than any opera aria. He'd never said he could sing, but then, he'd never had a reason to do so until now.

The baby made small noises and he laughed. “I think she likes it. What do you think?"

She smiled and nodded. The lump in her throat wouldn't allow her to voice the love she felt. With his heart torn asunder, he'd appeared older and more worn. Now, years fell away. She felt it was the first time she'd truly seen the real Tearach. Yes, he was green with pointed ears, his incisors were a little longer than normal, and he was larger and stronger than the average man, but he was all the more precious to her because of it. He was going to make the most gentle, kind and patient of fathers, and he'd probably spoil his little girl rotten.

That brought something else to mind. They couldn't keep calling the baby
it
or
her
. She had to have a name. Among the customs Cairna had taught her, it was the mother's privilege of naming the baby. It hadn't seemed fair, but Cairna insisted that this was the mother's gift to give the newborn, and her right after carrying it for many long months. Under other circumstances, Kathy would have spoken with Tearach about the subject, but he'd been so depressed she hadn't dared say anything. Now, it was high time the baby had her name bestowed upon her. She hoped Tearach approved of her choice.

"May I hold Tearyn while you get us something to eat? I'm starved."

Tearach slowly lifted his head and gazed at her. “What did you call her?” he whispered.

"Tearyn. Her name is Tearyn.” She almost laughed at his comical expression. She'd never seen anyone so taken aback.

A slow smile spread itself across his face. “You ... you gave her a derivation of
my
name?"

Kathy nodded. “It didn't seem fair that I was supposed to name her and you had no input, so I chose something I thought we'd both like. I think it's pretty and unusual. Don't you?"

He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. “It's a wonderful name. Thank you, Kathy."

The satisfied gleam in his dark gaze meant everything. She almost cried with happiness. He slowly handed the baby back, holding onto her cherubic hand as he did so. For some moments he gazed down at the baby, and then he looked back up at her.

"I'll get you something warm to eat and ... and
Tearyn
something soft to wear."

Tearach turned away and then glanced over his shoulder at his woman and his child. If this was all a dream, Herne help him, he didn't want it to ever end. His heart had never been so full or his spirit so high. There was nothing he couldn't accomplish. With the weight of eight horrible years drifting into the past, he could only see days of sunshine ahead. Was it possible that he could love Kathy and their baby any more? With each minute that ticked away, he was determined they'd know how much more love he could give.