The Sheik and the Slave

Her breasts were tender and heavy, and her milk had dried since she had never suckled her baby. She wanted to feed her baby and hold the child in her arms. She felt empty without the babe.

She moved her legs over the side of the bed took a breath to steady herself. She heard voices outside and a baby’s cry.

“Hello?” she called out.

The older woman came toward her, followed by a woman who was carrying a baby. Katharine didn’t see the baby at first. The Abbess’ face showed concern.

“Dear, you shouldn’t be up,” the older woman said. “Let me help you back to your bed,” she said in a soothing voice.

Katharine took a deep breath and steadied herself. Then, she uttered softly, “Where is my baby?”

Oona held the child tight and was still behind the Mother Superior, whom she glanced at for guidance.

Katharine took another breath and screamed suddenly.

“WHERE IS MY BABY? WHERE IS HE?”

Abigail tried to calm the woman, but she was almost hysterical. She shushed the woman softly and tried her best to reassure her.

“Shh. Don’t upset yourself, my dear. You are here among friends. We mean you no harm,” Abigail said. She took the girl’s arm and helped her into bed as Katharine’s sobs overcame her.

Everything had been taken from her and she was exhausted

“Please,” Katharine asked the older woman.

“Just give me a moment, my dear, please,” she replied. The older woman left Katharine for a moment and then returned with Oona and her bundle.

Katharine sat on the bed, crying into her pillow, when the two women entered.

“My dear, there is no need for tears. You are safe, and so is your son.”

Katharine looked up and sobbed out loud.

“My son? My son?” she cried. She licked her dry lips and held out her empty arms.

Abigail placed the baby boy in her arms, filling them and her heart.

“My son,” she said softly. She breathed in awe at the small body.

“My son,” she repeated. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at him.

“I thought he was dead. I thought I had lost him,” Katharine said. Her tears trickled down her cheeks, but they were tears of joy.

“No, dear. The Father here performed a very difficult surgery for you to have your son. You lost a lot of blood, but you were both saved. Thanks be to God.”

“Thank you,” Katharine said. She looked into the older woman’s eyes. “For all your kindness. Thank you.”

Abigail smiled back.

“I will leave you alone to acquaint yourself with your son,” she said.

She and Oona left the young mother alone.

Katharine sat on the bed and gazed down at her son with his sun-kissed skin and eyes like the sea. She kissed him on the forehead and then rained kisses all over his face.

She placed him lovingly on the bed and undressed him. He was perfect, with two chubby legs, a little chest, two flailing arms and eyes that danced.

“You are perfect,” she whispered.