Mystic Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the most experienced woman and maybe a female relative or a close friend. But I’ve heard my mother’s and grandmother’s stories. Childbirth makes for a dramatic retelling.”
    The thought that Maggie might be just as ignorant about childbirth as he was appalled Caleb.
    She must have seen the expression on his face, for she smiled and patted his hand. “Ever since I started to show, I’ve been hearing birthing stories from the women of Morgan’s Crossing. Last week, Mrs. Tisdale sat me down and told me what would happen. She was quite. . .specific.”
    “That’s something, at least,” he muttered. “We’re not completely ignorant here.”
    “You’ve forgotten the kittens.”
    “How can you jest at such a time?” This woman continues to astonish me.
    “What would you have me do? Cry? Scream? Have hysterics?”
    He held up a hand. “No! Jesting is just fine. Carry on.”
    She glanced toward the caravan. “You need to heat water—to wash your hands and to cleanse the knife for cutting the cord, to wash the baby. . .and me. At least the pots won’t be damaged. I have cloths prepared—for cleaning and diapers. You’ll find everything for the delivery and the needs of the baby in the cupboard near the bed.”
    He stood and then wavered, reluctant to leave her. “Yell if you need me.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m quite capable of making myself heard.”
    He laughed, surprised at the emotion. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?”
    She dropped her gaze. “I was once.”
    Caleb lowered himself again to one knee. He leaned over and touched his forefinger underneath her chin, tilting her head so she met his eyes. “What happened?”
    “Oswald beat the feistiness out of me.”
    Anger and a strange wave of sorrow washed over him. “You’ll never suffer that again,” he said gently. “Your husband will never harm you.”
    “Or my baby,” Maggie said with a sob. “I was so afraid he’d hit me and kill my child.”
    Stirred by compassion, he moved his hand to cup her cheek. “You’re safe now. I promise, you’ll both be safe.” He sent the assurance through his voice, eyes, and touch, willing her to believe him. Willing himself to believe. Please, God, make it so.
    “When this is over, I’ll need to bury your husband. Will you want to pay your respects before I do?”
    “No. I’m—” Before Maggie could finish, she rolled up into a ball, her eyes glazed, her focus inward until the contraction ended. Then with a gasping breath, she lay back. “As I started to say—”
    Caleb wiped the perspiration from her face.
    She grabbed his hand, pulling his attention toward her. “I’m not the least bit sorry Oswald is dead. Not that I’m dancing on his grave, either.” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “I feel. . .empty.”
    Caleb slanted a glance at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to view him? I, ah, closed his eyes, and. . . .” He swallowed.
    “Listen to me.” Maggie tightened her grip, holding his gaze intently. “Any decent man would feel remorse over being involved in such an accident. But that’s all this was—an accident. Oswald was furious. He’d been in a foul mood since he’d argued with Michael Morgan and was kicked out of town. This morning, he became angry with me and was driving recklessly.” She placed a hand to the deepening bruise on her cheek. “He did this to me right before. . . .”
    His gaze narrowed on the injury. “He hit you?”
    “I asked him to slow down.” She faltered, and then forced herself to take a breath. “He knocked me so hard I almost fell off the bench. I was sick over the side.”
    Remorse faded, replaced with anger. “How were you thrown clear?”
    “The momentum toppled me overboard. As I pitched through the air, all I could think of was my baby. ” She gave him a faint smile. “I called upon my childhood of tumbling with my cousins, curled my arms and legs around my stomach, and twisted so I landed on my