Part 28 (1/2)
”Right.” Nash swallowed the lump in his throat. His house was full of people-witches, if you wanted to get technical-and his wife was sitting on the sofa, looking as if she weren't the least bit concerned that she'd been in labor for over three hours. ”Maybe it was a false alarm.”
Camilla wafted by in a sequined ball gown and tapped Nash on the shoulder with her feather fan. ”Leave it to Ana, dear child. She'll take care of everything. Why, when I had Sebastian, I was in labor for thirteen hours. We joked about that, didn't we, Douglas?”
”After you'd stopped shouting curses at me, dear heart.”
”Well, naturally.” She wandered toward the kitchen, thinking she'd check on the stew. Ana never used quite enough sage.
”Would have turned me into a hedgehog if she hadn't been otherwise occupied,” Douglas confided.
”That makes me feel better,” Nash muttered. ”Heaps.”
Delighted to have helped, Douglas slapped him heartily on the back.
”That's what we're here for, Dash.”
”Nash.”
Douglas smiled benignly. ”Yes, indeed.”
”Mama.” Morgana gave her mother's hand a squeeze. ”Go rescue poor Nash from Uncle Douglas. He's looking a little queasy.”
Bryna obligingly set aside her sketchpad. ”Shall I have your father take him out for a walk?”
”Wonderful.” She gave a sigh of grat.i.tude as Ana continued to rub her shoulders. ”There isn't anything for him to do quite yet.”
Ana's father, Padrick, plopped down the moment Bryna vacated the seat. ”How's the girl?”
”I'm really fine. It's all very mild as yet, but I'm sure it'll get rolling before too much longer.” She leaned over to kiss his plump cheek. ”I'm glad you're all here.”
”Wouldn't be anywhere else.” He put a pudgy hand on her belly to soothe and gave his daughter one of his elvish grins. ”And my own little darling. You're pretty as a picture. Take right after your da, don't you?”
”Naturally.” Ana felt the next contraction start and kept her hands steady on Morgana's shoulders. ”Long, relaxed breaths, love.”
”Will you want to give her some blue cohosh?” he asked his daughter.
Ana considered, then shook her head. ”Not yet. She's doing well enough. But you could get me my pouch. I'll want some crystals.”
”Done.” He rose, then flipped his hand over. In the palm was a sprig of bell heather in full flower. ”Now where did this come from?” he said, in the way he had since the laboring woman had been a babe herself. ”Take care of this for me. I've business to tend to.”
Morgana brushed the heather against her cheek. ”He's the dearest man in the world.”
”He'll spoil these two if you let him. Da's a pushover for children.” With the empathic link, she knew Morgana was in more discomfort than she was letting on. ”I'll have to take you upstairs soon, Morgana.”
”Not yet, though.” She reached over her shoulder for Ana's hand. ”It's so nice being here with everyone. Where's Aunt Maureen?”
”Mama's in the kitchen, probably arguing with Aunt Camilla over the stew by now.”
On a little groan, Morgana shut her eyes. ”Lord, I could eat a gallon of it.”
”After,” Ana promised, and looked up as the rattle of chains and the moans of the suffering filled the room. ”Somebody at the door.”
”Poor Nash. He can't relax long enough to appreciate his own handiwork. Is it Sebastian?”
Ana craned her neck. ”Uh-huh. He and Mel are critiquing the holograms. Whoops, there goes the smoke machine and the bats.”