Man in the Mist
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Annette Broadrick
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19,4K
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14
Prologue
November 28, 1978
“I know, I know,” Dr. James MacDonald murmured. “The contractions are coming harder and with more pain,” he said to the girl who lay on the table in one of his examining rooms. “You’re doing fine…just fine.”
She’d shown up at his home office earlier that evening, chilled from the cold wind sweeping across the Highlands of Scotland. He had never seen her before but when he realized she was having contractions, he never thought about turning her way, despite the late hour.
His wife, Margaret, stood near the girl’s head and wiped away the perspiration from her face and forehead. “Everything’s going well,” Margaret said to her, but the look on her face told James she was worried.
The girl was running a high fever. He’d done what he could to give her medications that wouldn’t distress the babies he was in the process of delivering. She needed to be in a hospital, but he couldn’t move her until the babies were born.
Triplets, she’d told him.
He looked at her now as she rested between contractions. “What is your name, dear?” he asked.
“Moira,” she replied.
“Ah, Moira. And where is your husband on this blustery night?”
Moira shook her head and began to cry. “He’s dead,” she sobbed. “I saw his brother kill him and I ran. I had to get away before he killed me, as well.” Her voice climbed.
“Well, you needn’t worry about a thing, dear. You’re safe with Meggie and me.” After a moment he asked, “What was your husband’s name?”
“Douglas, but please don’t put his name on the birth certificates. If you do, his brother will find us.”
“Don’t you worry, lass. You’re safe and so are your babes. Rest as much as you can. I believe these babes are eager to enter the world.”
“They’re a little early,” she said. “My doctor told me he would place me in hospital for the last two weeks. Our plans were to go in next week.” She gasped as another strong contraction began.
James MacDonald had practiced medicine in his hometown of Craigmor for more than thirty years and had dealt with a great many crises. Tonight he was facing a particularly difficult one. His young patient, and he doubted she was more than eighteen or so, was fighting a severe lung infection in addition to having her babies.
After several hours of labor, three tiny but healthy girls entered the world. Each had strong vocal cords and wasn’t afraid to use them. Margaret cleaned and weighed each one before wrapping them in warm blankets. Then, she tucked them side by side in a bassinet.
“Mighty fine young ladies you have, Moira,” James said, feeling relief that they were safely delivered. “All of them beauties, just like their mother.”
The new mother attempted a smile before she closed her eyes. Her work was done. Her babies had made it safely into the world.
James moved her into one of their upstairs bedrooms to rest and recuperate while Margaret continued to care for the infants.
Before she fell asleep, Moira caught James’s wrist in a surprisingly fierce grip, considering her weakened condition, and said, “Don’t let him find my babies.” Her eyes were glazed with fever and her voice sounded raspy. “He mustn’t find them. He’ll kill them. Please. Don’t let him find them.”
“You and your babies are safe, Moira. You just rest and get better. You’ll be able to take care of them yourself once you’re better.”
Moira stared at him, her grief and pain mirrored in her eyes. “I loved Douglas so much. I don’t want to go on without him,” she whispered.
“You have three precious daughters to care for, Moira,” he replied in a gentle voice. “They need you.”
“Please find them a good home. Promise me,” she whispered. “Promise me you’ll protect my babies.”
James stared at her in alarm. “You must protect your babies. Give yourself time. You will be able to…” He stopped speaking when he realized she was no longer conscious.
Moira never regained consciousness. It was as though she’d grown tired of struggling for breath and at the end gave up the effort with one final sigh.
Moira with no last name had done what she could to give her babies a chance at life. Now it was up to James and Margaret to decide what to do with her legacy.
