out of the city. It took him three hours to get home.”
“The girls were born in three hours?” Nat looked shocked.
She wished. They’d been fifteen hours of hard labor. “Heck, no. But Jamie got to sit with me while we waited for Daniel to get back. He was a tad stressed.” Truth be told, she hadn’t been all that calm, either. “Moira arrived about an hour later, but I think Jamie had visions of having to deliver triplets by himself on my kitchen floor.”
Nat frowned. “How did Moira get there so fast?”
“She’d left Nova Scotia that morning. Said she just knew it was time.” Nell tapped her laptop with love. “You’re lucky. This pretty toy will let us fetch you a healer in just a few minutes.” Shuttling people through Realm was cool for many reasons, but getting a witch midwife to the right place on time was one of the coolest.
Nat was quiet for a moment. “Did you know it was time?”
In nine years, no one had ever asked her that. “You know, I suspect I did. That’s probably why I wanted a little time to myself.” Nell grinned. “I must’ve known I wouldn’t get a second’s rest after the triplets arrived.”
Then it occurred to her that Nat might have a pretty specific reason for asking. “How are you feeling?”
“Unsettled.” Nat stretched into a pose that Nell couldn’t have pulled off unpregnant. “I’ve been having weird dreams.”
Pregnancy dreams could be seriously wonky. “Any sexy hunks?” Nell remembered a very steamy dream during her last pregnancy, featuring Nathan Fillion. In triplicate. Firefly reruns had never been quite the same since.
“Nope.” Nat blushed. “Those happened back at the beginning.”
Nell waited patiently. If friendly silence didn’t work soon, there was always chocolate ice cream.
“I’ve been dreaming about my little girl growing up. And turning into Amelia.”
Nell blinked. “Sierra’s mom?” That was a direction she hadn’t expected.
“Yeah.” Nat folded herself into a pregnant pretzel. “I’m sure it’s just my subconscious putting her face on my fears.”
Now they’d landed on the reason for the visit. Nell lowered onto the floor beside Nat. No way she was trying the pretzel. “And what’s scaring you?”
There was no answer for a bit as a careful yogini gathered her thoughts. “I’ve been wondering what must have driven Amelia—what kept her so far away from community, from everything she knew, from people who would love her.”
It was something a lot of hearts had been pondering. Nat’s answer was likely to be more insightful than most, even though she’d never met Amelia. “And what do you think?”
“Joy in seeing the world, maybe. And fear that coming back would mean limits—chains on her freedom. Some hearts can’t bear to be constrained.”
Nell frowned. Something more was going on here—that last sentence was practically imprinted on Nat’s brain. “You think she needed freedom that badly?”
Nat nodded slowly. “Why else would you leave a child alone—a child you loved immensely?”
For the first time since they’d fetched Sierra, Nell felt herself step into Amelia’s shoes. And find, at last, a tiny thread of empathy. “You can’t be a mother and be absolutely free.”
They sat quietly together for a bit. Then Nell looked up, asking the question that bothered her most. “Do you think she was coming back?”
“Yes.” Nat’s answer was quick and sure. “She wouldn’t have left Sierra in a hotel room if she was leaving for good.”
Nell nodded slowly, tugging on that slender thread of empathy for Amelia she’d finally been able to find. “She would have sent her back to us.”
“I think so.” Nat shrugged. “I didn’t know her, so I can only guess. But I know what it is to want to taste freedom from the realities of your life, even if it’s just for a few hours. Maybe that’s what Amelia tried to do while her daughter slept.”
Those were strange words from one of the most responsible people Nell knew. And where she could no longer feel any sympathy at all for Amelia. “She left a child alone in New Orleans, Nat. Why are you fighting so hard to find empathy for her?”
“I have to.” Nat’s face was intent. “That quest for freedom rides in the heart of my baby girl, too. And I don’t want her to grow up to be a woman who has to leave her child sleeping alone in a hotel room to get her own needs met.”
Anyone else and Nell would have brushed it off as the irrational fears of pregnancy. Anyone else. “She’s a fire