Drums of Autumn - Diana Gabaldon [383]
“Oh, it will depend on the weather, a bit.” Marsali cast an experienced eye skyward. It was late afternoon, and the sky had begun to darken into a clear deep blue, with no more than streaks of white cloud floating over the horizon. “Clear as it is, I should say—Germaine!” Germaine’s bottom was the only part of him visible, the top half having disappeared under a log.
“I’ll get him.” Brianna took three quick strides across the clearing, and scooped him up. Germaine made a deep sound of protest at this unwarranted interference, and began to kick, hammering his sturdy heels against her legs.
“Ow!” Brianna set him on the ground, rubbing her thigh with one hand.
Marsali made a sound of exasperation and dropped her ladle. “Now what have ye got, ye wicked thing?” Germaine, having learned from experience, popped his latest acquisition into his mouth and swallowed convulsively. He immediately turned purple and began to choke.
With a cry of alarm, Marsali dropped to her knees and tried to pry his mouth open. Germaine gagged, wheezed, and staggered backward, shaking his head. His blue eyes bulged, and a thin line of drool snaked down his chin.
“Here!” Brianna grabbed the little boy by the arm, pulled his back against her, and with both hands fisted into his stomach, jerked them sharply back.
Germaine made a loud whooping noise, and something small and round shot out of his mouth. He gurgled, gasped for air, got a good lungful and started to howl, his face going from dusky purple to a healthy red within seconds.
“Is he all right?” Jamie peered anxiously at the little boy, who was crying in his mother’s arms, then, satisfied, glanced at Brianna. “That was verra quick, lass. A good job.”
“Thanks. I—thanks. I’m glad it worked.”
Brianna felt a little shaky. Seconds. It hadn’t taken more than a few seconds. Life to death and back again, in nothing flat. Jamie touched her arm, giving her a brief squeeze, and she felt a little better.
“Best take the laddie down to the house,” he told Marsali. “Give him his supper and put him to bed. We’ll finish here.”
Marsali nodded, looking shaken herself. She brushed a strand of pale hair out of her eyes, and gave Brianna a poor attempt at a smile.
“I thank ye, good-sister.”
Brianna felt a surprising small glow of pleasure at the title. She gave Marsali back the smile.
“I’m glad he’s all right.”
Marsali picked up her bag from the ground, and with a nod to Jamie, turned and made her way carefully down the steep path, toddler in her arms, Germaine’s chubby fists twined tightly in her hair.
“That was pretty work, Coz.” Ian had finished the spreading, and jumped down from the platform to congratulate her. “Where did ye learn a thing like that?”
“From my mother.”
Ian nodded, looking impressed. Jamie bent over, searching the ground nearby.
“What is it the laddie swallowed, I wonder?”
“This.” Brianna spotted the object, half buried under fallen leaves, and plucked it out. “It looks like a button.” The object was a lopsided circle, crudely carved from wood, but indisputably a button, with a long shank and holes bored for thread.
“Let me see.” Jamie held out a hand, and she dropped the button into it.
“You’ll no be missing any buttons, will ye, Ian?” he asked, frowning at the small object in his palm.
Ian peered over Jamie’s shoulder, and shook his head. “Maybe Fergus?” he suggested.
“Maybe, but I dinna think so. Our Fergus is too much the dandy to be wearin’ something like this. All the buttons on his coat are made of polished horn.” He shook his head slowly, still frowning, then shrugged. Picking up his sporran, he put the button into it before fastening it about his waist.
“Ah, well. I’ll ask about. Will ye finish here, Ian? There’s no much left to do.” He smiled at Brianna and cocked his head toward the path. “Come then, lass; we’ll ask at Lindseys’, on our way home.”
In the event, Kenny Lindsey was not at