Bekka’s assurance had assumed greater merit after she’d been instrumental in the last two of Telgar Weyr’s deliveries. The two established midwives had both found themselves quite relieved to have her additional knowledge—not to mention her irrepressible energy—available for their aid.

“But I’m still worried,” Fiona said, her voice low and troubled.

“Your worry isn’t helping either Lorana or the baby, Weyrwoman,” Bekka told her as gently as she could. “It makes the both of them more nervous.”

Fiona nodded and took a long steadying breath. “What should I do, then?”

“Stop fussing so much,” Bekka said. “You’re acting like you’re afraid she’ll lose the baby at any moment.”

Fiona started to speak but Bekka stopped her with a raised hand.

“Honestly, Weyrwoman, it’ll be all right,” Bekka said. “The baby seems to be thriving, Lorana’s doing well—”

“She’s having nightmares,” Fiona told her.

“That’s normal,” Bekka assured her. “Many mothers, particularly first-time mothers, worry and have nightmares.”

“She’s afraid she’ll lose the baby.”

“And you’re afraid you’ll lose the both of them, aren’t you?” Bekka asked knowingly. When Fiona, frowning, gave her a reluctant nod, the young girl continued, “Isn’t it possible that the both of them are picking up on your distress?”

Fiona bit her lips glumly and nodded once more. “What can I do?”

“Just be certain that they’re both loved and cared for,” Bekka said. “Lorana’s tall, taller than you, and she’s broad enough in the hips that she’ll have no problem birthing this child.”

Fiona frowned, still unable to rid herself of a deep foreboding.

“If you can’t keep your moods in check, then it would be better if Lorana found quarters by herself,” Bekka said.

A new voice joined in from Fiona’s side. “Perhaps you’re worrying about Lorana to avoid worrying about other things.”

Fiona turned; it was Shaneese. The headwoman sat beside her, laying a basket full of warm rolls on the table. Bekka dove in and shamelessly grabbed one, gesturing for Shaneese to continue talking.

“Like what?” Fiona asked.

“Like Talenth and her clutch,” Shaneese said. “Or you and Kindan.”

“Or her and T’mar,” Bekka added around a mouthful of roll and a mischievous look.

“So what do I do?” Fiona asked, turning toward the older woman.

“Spend more time with T’mar,” Bekka said. “Let Lorana and Kindan have time together; let Lorana have time alone.”

“She’s got some good ideas,” Shaneese told Fiona. She turned to the young healer, her eyes twinkling. “You know, she’s just about as difficult as you, Weyrwoman!”

Fiona smiled even as Bekka growled in response.