Bran’s eyes bored into mine across my mother’s shuddering body. “Hope.” My name emerged from his lips in a mist of white that wreathed around us. “There’s something I—”
Phoebe skidded to a halt beside us, ice particles spraying from her horse’s hoofs. I took on Mom’s weight as Bran went to assist Collum, but was waved away.
“Coll’s bleeding again,” Phoebe said quietly at my side. “It’s bad. Can you watch out for him and I’ll help Bran with Sarah?”
“I’m not deaf, you know,” Collum spat. “And I don’t need help. Let’s just bloody well get this over with.”
“I’ll take Sarah,” Bran murmured. With a last, troubled look at me, he scooped my mother into his arms and trudged off into the forest.
Phoebe raced ahead of Bran to break a trail. As Collum stumbled after, she called over her shoulder. “Quit being such a stubborn ass, Coll, and let Hope help you.”
I drew even with Collum, almost gagging at the strong, mineral waft of blood that emanated from him, corrupting the clean, cold smell of the forest. In the night’s bridal shades of moonlight and snow, the liquid streaming down his arm gleamed black as an oil slick.
“I said I’m fine,” he muttered.
“Oh yeah?” I countered. “Well, you look like a freaking ghost. And if you bleed out any more, you’ll pass out and I’ll have to drag you the rest of the way. So, please . . . Please just let me help you.”
Collum stared at me for a long moment, mouth tucked in at the corners. “You,” he said quietly, “have surprised me, Hope Walton. I never expected it of you.”
“Why, Collum MacPherson,” I kidded. “Is that an actual compliment? Coming from you?”
He didn’t smile. Instead he inched closer. “Listen,” he said, hazel eyes intense. “We wouldn’t have made it out without you. I just . . .” He sighed. “I just want you to be careful around Cameron, aye?”
I looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes you do,” he said. His head jerked as Phoebe shouted from the woods.
“Come on,” he said. “We have to hurry.”
With that, he allowed me to drape his good arm over my shoulders and together, we navigated after the others.
Breathless and sweating despite the cold, we finally reached the glade, still oddly bare of snow or a single leaf. I looked back at the path of gore and broken branches we’d left. A blind man could’ve followed our trail. Once inside the eerie circle of trees, Mom slithered from Bran’s grip. Phoebe helped me ease a shaking Collum to the dirt. A whine escaped Mom’s clenched teeth, and in the inconstant light, her skin looked bleached. Dead.
“How long?” I huffed.
Collum glanced up at the patchwork of black clouds scuttling across the silvered sky. “Not long now.”
Mom whimpered as a contraction took her. I knelt and gripped her hand. When the pain subsided, she panted. “Hope, listen to me. I have to tell you something. It’s important.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I soothed. “Not now. It can wait till we get back.”
“No,” she insisted. “You have to know. It was long ago, but—” Her eyes flew open. Her back arched, and a sound like the cry of a trapped animal ripped from her lips.
“Mom!”
Her lips moved without sound. I leaned closer to listen.
“Something’s wrong,” she gasped through lips bleached with shock. The hairs on the back of my neck stiffened. “It happened before.” When her pained eyes met mine, I sat back on my heels, stunned at the realization.
“What’s she talking about?” Phoebe’s voice was screechy with fear.
“She lost a baby when I was little,” I managed. “It was bad, Pheebs. And that was in a hospital. We have to get her home.”
Mom’s next cry dragged on until I wanted to cover my ears and scream. Tears welled in Phoebe’s eyes.
“What do we do? Is she supposed to be bleeding like this?” She gestured to the blood seeping out around my mother’s skirts.
I tried to burrow into my memory, to bring up everything I’d ever read about childbirth, but when Mom slumped sideways in a faint, the words scattered.
“I can’t do this.” I cradled her head in my lap. “It’s too much, Mom. Please wake up. Tell me what to do. I need you.”
I hugged her to me, buried my face in her shoulder, and wept like a child.
Shivering, I felt warmth settle next to me. I looked up to find Bran at my side. Collum moved to kneel beside Phoebe on the other side of my mother’s supine body. They didn’t say a word, but as they all watched me I could hear them just the same.
We’re here. You’re not alone.
The back of my throat burned. I’d grown up a mostly solitary being. My grandmother had always, and very deliberately, made certain I never felt like part of the larger family. And though I had my parents, my mother had long ago determined I hadn’t the time or need for friends in my life.