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“I will have you as long as the gods allow. I will do a sacrifice each day if necessary. But if your time comes, I will cherish every day spent with you. Every word you said. Every kiss and touch you gave me. And I will love you until the last moment of my life.”

She bloomed. “And I will, too,” she whispered. “And I will, too.”

Svanhild appeared next to them and hugged them both, her face bright and happy. “Solver told me how you got here.”

The skald took a step closer to them.

“Holly appeared a week ago in Avaldsnes,” he said. “She was on a trade ship from Sutherland, wishing to ask King Harald to give her a ship to come here. I was coming to your harvest festival, and so, I was fortunate to bring your beloved wife to you.”

“Why did you go to Avaldsnes?” Einar asked. “Why not here?”

“No one was going here from Durness, but there was a trade ship bound to Avaldsnes, so I thought I’d ask King Harald. I told him you had allowed me to visit my family but that the ship that brought me was later destroyed in a storm, so I couldn’t go back.”

“How did you cross time again?” Einar asked.

“I had to track down the Norn. It wasn’t easy. She was still in Scotland with another ‘client.’ She came with me to the same place we met her and gave me the golden spindle. I can’t go back, though, she said. This was the last time. And I’m okay with it, Einar. There’s nothing I want more than to be with my family. Here.”

Einar felt a huge smile spreading his lips under his beard.

“So you can never leave?” he said.

“That’s right.”

He hugged his pregnant wife and his daughter. “Thank Odin.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Orkney Islands, February 19, 881 AD

“Not long now, dear,” Bera said, barely throwing a glance at Holly from her knitting—no, not knitting, nålbinding. Bera looked so comfortable by the turf-burning firepit, which filled the bedchamber with a pleasant warmth. Einar was fishing in one of the lochs nearby, although he had been reluctant to leave her. Svanhild had asked him to teach her, and Holly had encouraged him to go.

Holly answered by moaning like a cow. She leaned against the bed, kneeling on the floor with soft furs under her knees, which was the most comfortable position to breathe through the contractions.

Not contractions, she corrected herself. Surges. That was what the book on HypnoBirthing said. Do not think of them as of pain, contractions, or anything unpleasant. They were strong energy surges, the intense waves she needed to ride by breathing deeply.

“Mmmmmooooooooo,” Holly moaned on a slow exhale as intense pain shot through her round stomach.

She smiled, then laughed even through the surge, and the pain diminished.

“I do sound like a cow, don’t I?” she said when the contraction had passed.

“Yes.” Bera smiled. “You can sound like Hel herself if you like. Anything to make it easier for you.”

“Did those books I brought give you any useful hints?”

Holly had brought several books on midwifery and even a medical book where there was a detailed description with pictures of a C-section. She’d verbally translated those books for Bera.

“That C-section part was interesting, but I will need to practice on the sheep and cows before I attempt anything like that on a woman. I do think it is a wonder what healers from your time can do. But we just need to rely on the gods and the Norns to weave us a good destiny.”

Holly nodded. She must be crazy to be attempting to do this here. But she had made a decision, and she would stick with her man. She would breathe and relax and soften and trust her body to do the job. And very soon, she would hold her baby.

The next wave came, even more intense and longer than the previous one.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”

Then heavy steps thundered from behind the wall, and the door flew open. Einar stood there, snow on his boots, his eyes big.

“Holly, are you—”