I struggled to my feet and went over to where she stood and put my hands on her shoulders. I was maybe only an inch or so taller than her, but I was able to look down at her. "Tell me, Clair," I said insistently, "What year was it when you came through the stones.."

Unfortunately she was not able to answer, for at that precise moment my water broke. Mary was by my side in an instant, pulling off my wet nightgown and dropping a clean one over my head. (Not that it would remain clean for long) She and Clair guided me back to my bed, and tucked my under the covers. Clair stood and looked at me while Mary murmured, "I'll go get the midwife."

"Well," I said, "Do you have any experience with delivering a baby?"

"I was a nurse on the battlefield for four years; I haven't had a lot of experience with obstetrics."

"World War II?" I asked, and she nodded. "Was the war over when you left?"

"Yes, it was 1945, and my husband and I were on our second honeymoon." She didn't get to elaborate much further than that, because Mary appeared, the midwife and Lady MacKenzie following.

Everyone was gathered around my bed, and I wished they would go away. I wanted to keep talking to Clair about how she got through the stones.

"Have your pains begun?" the midwife asked solicitously, and when I shook my head told me, "They will soon. Would you like a rope to hold onto?"

"I can sit behind her, and hold her," volunteered Clair, "That should help." I was grateful for my combat nurse willing to wade into this with me. And this would be for the long haul, first babies, especially, never came quickly, as a rule.

And soon the pains began in earnest. I tried to remember what I'd read about Lamaze breathing, tried to pick something to focus on, but it was hard. Not impossible, but hard. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Oh what I would give for a modern hospital now, all sterile and gleaming, and wonderful drugs to help ease the pain. Unfortunately I wasn't in 2013, and I was having to do this the old fashioned way. I began to wonder why women chose natural deliveries.

It was eight hours of breathing, screaming, crying, swearing at whoever was closest to me. I hoped I hadn't insulted anyone, but I wasn't exactly responsible for what I was doing. The pain was unbearable and I thought of those poor village women in Egypt who did this all the time—by comparison I was a coward.

At last he started to crown, and with a few more pushes and a lot of blood, he was out. Clair laid him on my stomach while the midwife cut the word, and I was able to see I had delivered a healthy, bonny boy. A beautiful boy with some dark, downy hair on the top of his head.

The women helped clean up me and the baby. The midwife warned me that I would bleed, but it eventually it would stop, though it may take a few weeks. They put me to bed and handed me my son, my baby boy. I put him to my breast and I began to nurse him, feeling his pull on my nipples, as well as my uterus contracting. Nursing would make both of us stronger, so I didn't mind the pain. I also didn't mind being bed ridden for another six weeks, if it gave my body a chance to heal.

When they asked me if I wanted a wet nurse, I refused. When I was too tired or feeling too weak I would appreciate it, but I wanted to nurse my own child. He was all I had left of Georgie and I was going to hold him close to me. Someday, when he was old enough, I would tell him about his father, and how much I loved him. Someday I would give him back his real name.

"And what are you naming him?" asked the midwife, and I had my answer ready.

"Callum Robert, and with the permission of Lord Colum, he will have his last name MacKenzie." Colum, his wife and I had discussed it, and we'd decided that the MacKenzie name would keep him safe, for a while. Colum was making him his ward, and giving him what protection he could. My nightmares were full of the image of Colin riding up to Castle Leoch with a company of men and demanding that the baby, and myself be handed over to him. Hopefully Colin was enjoying himself being the new heir, and wouldn't give me a thought, but I didn't count on it.

At a word from Lady MacKenzie, everyone except Mary left. My room felt quiet and peaceful. I felt like I had been through some magical experience, everything felt so surreal. It was if I had stepped through a mirror in one of my grandmere's fairy tales. I was utterly, blissfully happy.

There was a light tapping at the door, and Mary admitted Jamie, cleaned up from his journey, smelling of soap. He smiled at me as he came in, looking at me, and the cradle that had been prepared for my wee Callum.

He came and sat next me on the bed, asking, "Can I hold him?"

"When I'm finished nursing. He'll be asleep, but he's going to spend a lot of the next three months sleeping, which will give me a chance to get lots of rest. After that, he'll be more wakeful, and I've got to decide what I'm going to do."

He watched me with a little too much interest, but I ignored him. "If you want to get back to Inverness, that won't be a good time. Ye'll need to wait until the roads are passable, and ye can find an escort. It's safest to travel in a group, but I doubt that ye'll be wanting that."

"No, Jamie, I won't. All I want to do is to get to Inverness, after that I'll be fine on my own, in fact, I prefer it that way."

"If ye don't mind my asking, why…?"

"Jamie, I'm sorry but I do mind your asking. Please understand, this is very personal, as queer as it sounds. All I can say is that I have something important to do there, and it involves only me. Getting there is going to be the hard part, once I'm there I'm home free."

He looked at me, clearly puzzled, but I couldn't answer his questions. Like the others, he was very kind to me, we had a brief, satisfying love affair, but now what I wanted most was to get on with my life.

Some pieces of the puzzle fit and he understood. I had to avoid the Campbells at all costs. Hopefully Colin would lose his interest in me, and my child, and I wouldn't have to worry about him. I had nightmares, though, of Colin showing up with a large company of men, demanding the return of me and my baby. I had become aware that I had become something of an obsession with him. I wondered if he had hired Randall to kidnap me on the day of my wedding. I wonder what would have happened if he had hidden me so effectively that none could find me? What would his plans had been—raping me as he'd attempted to do the day I escaped?

I looked up to see that Jamie had not left. "Jamie," I asked, "Could you perhaps do me a favor?"

"If I can, my lady," he responded, and smiled.

"Have you done anything about finding Geillis?" I looked down and noticed that my baby had fallen asleep. Mary took him from my arms and placed him in the cradle.

"I know you're being careful, but going into the village might be safe, yes? Can you see if Mr. Duncan is still alive—however much alive he is. Check the stable, check the house and see if someone ransacked it, or looked for something. If nothing else, see if there's a body on the property. Maybe ask around the village to see if something happened to her."

"Why?" I'd piqued his interest, he was starting to follow my train of thought."

"What if nothing happened to her? What if she just left, say, in the dead of night when no one would notice. Maybe she's not dead, or jailed, maybe she's just gone."

"Well, when you're around, life is certainly not boring. You just had a child, but you're trying to find a person who may or may not have gone missing. I pity the man who marries you, unless he's a Georgie Campbell, ye'll lead him on a merry chase." He kissed me and left, which was a good thing. One, I was very tired, two, Clair's arrival had made me think.

Geillis, Clair, and I were tall, much taller than the women here. Geillis and I were the same height, and in this day and age, very few women reached five-eight. There was something about Geillis that set her apart. At first I thought it was her stunning beauty, by our age women in this time and for a few centuries to come started aging. I had not asked Clair how old she was, but I was sure the three of us were approximately the same age.

Geillis had not revealed her plans to me, but it was not unlikely that she had decided to go on the run. If her husband kept money in the house, she might have known how to retrieve it, a lock box is not all that hard to break into.

Maybe she was afraid her husband would discover she had been poisoning him, if that was the case, maybe she'd decided to flee. That's what I'd do. And where would she flee? I was betting that she'd run to Inverness and the stone circle—the exactly place I needed to return to.

I wish that she'd waited for me, I missed my friend. Two women on the road with an infant, maybe an escort, but with pistols under our cloaks. I don't know if she was involved with the Jacobite cause or not, but I wasn't. If we ran into soldiers, between the two of us we might be able to charm them into helping us. After all, had the villagers not called us "the two beauties"?

I lay down and fell into an uneasy sleep, only part of which, I am sure, was caused by the birth. Tomorrow I would have a long talk with Clair, tell her where I came from, tell her about Georgie and Colin, and find out what she wanted for herself. Maybe, if she wanted badly enough to return, I could arrange for us to return to Inverness. Or so I hoped.