Chapter 18: A love So True

Disclaimer: D. Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander

The retching and vomiting continued for several more weeks; every morning like clockwork. It was a glorious dawn, when the day arrived that I got up and hallelujah, my stomach was calm. Good thing too, because I was beginning to loathe ginger tea, and dry oatcakes.

Jamie was over solicitous during this time. He coaxed me to nap during the day, and leave any lifting to his boy, Osgar, or himself, or another clansman. I felt like I was being treated as an invalid.

He practically set me in my chair at meals as if I was a china doll, ready to break at the slightest nudge. "I'm not ill, Jamie … I'm pregnant."

Grinning, he muttered, "Aye, so ye're. And I'll no have anathin' happen to ye nor the wee bairn, neither."

My plate was always filled with vegetables, more than I could eat, and Jamie saw to it that milk was served at each meal. If he would oversee what was on the others' plates, I'd have less to do in the surgery. Ah well, my health was in good hands at least.

With my prenatal care taken care of, I made it my business to scrutinize the techniques of the local midwives. I'd be damned if I'd let childbed fever take me away from my Jamie. I found an experienced woman who I came to admire, and tactfully schooled her, along with the rest, in ways to prevent infection. When she proved that she could deliver rather than kill me, I asked her if she would consent to aide me in childbirth, to which she agreed.

Mary Flanagan and I had great discussions on medical matters, and traded information freely back and forth. I assigned her to substitute for me in the surgery during my lying in period as well.

As my due date approached, Jamie grew very quiet, and wasn't sleeping well. I found him frequently out of bed, looking out a window, just staring.

One such night, I sat up, and seeing him poised at the casement, climbed out of bed. "Out with it, Scotty."

He waved me away. "Sassenach … ye'll catch yer death. Go on now, under the covers wi' ye."

I folded my arms, resting them on my bulging abdomen. "Not until you tell me what it is that's bothering you."

Jamie turned to me. "All right, then. I'm scairt o' losing ye, Claire. My own mother died givin' birth to my sister. I canna sleep, nor eat, for fear o' what could happen."

"I'll tell you what will happen. I'm comparatively young and healthy, and I'll give you a bonny wee bairn.

"Mary's had lots of practice, and I've taught her how to safely deliver our baby. So, see you have nothing to worry about." I have worries enough for both of us.

"Come to bed, Jamie … please. I can't sleep with you creeping about."

Two days later, I did in fact deliver a baby girl. I can't say that it was easy—Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ—it was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but worth every minute I suffered.

When Jamie came into the room to see me, he was white as a sheet. He fell to his knees kissing my hand, and wiped the sweaty hair away from my face. He looked as exhausted as I felt, and rightly so. I could hear him while I labored, pacing outside the door during the whole ordeal. I don't think he ate or sat down once.

Tears streamed down his face as Mary handed him his daughter for the very first time. "Brianna Jean," he whispered. "I'm yer da, and glad I am to meet ye. I see ye have the red hair just like me."

He planted a kiss on her tiny head, and returned her to Mary to clean and dress her. Jamie sat on the bed, and stroked my cheek. "Oh, Claire … ye did weel, but I dinna think I can let ye go through that agin. Maybe I can have the faeries bring our next one, ay?"

"I don't imagine that it works that way, Scotty. Anyhow, there's not a chance in hell that we could stay away from each other."

"Aye, that much is true. I'd havta, unsheathe my sword to keep ye from assaultin' my virtue."

Mary glanced from Jamie to me, clearly shocked. "Master Fraser!"

"It's all right, Mary. He tends to exaggerate … a lot."

A smirk answered my comment; then he added, "Do I, now?"

Brianna was the apple of her daddy's eye, and he took time every day to sing, or read, or play with her. There was never any doubt how much he loved her, or me, for that matter.

And so, life at Leoch went on in peace and harmony for the next two years. Hamish had turned sixteen, and Jamie stepped down to let Colum's son succeed him as Laird, leaving him Ned, and other able bodied men to guide and assist him in his duties.

I was once again pregnant. Apparently, Jamie's covenant with the faeries never came to fruition. We returned to Lallybroch as soon as Hamish was able to wield the baton that was passed to him, and Jamie and I lived out the next few years blissfully until the war came. How in the bloody hell we managed to survive it is anyone's guess, but that, as they say, is another story.

The End