twenty-six

After our supper of chicken pies and roasted squash, I retired to my room. Frederick had been curious about my incident, but I didn’t want to speak of it in front of the young ones. And I needed quiet away from the bustle of the family. I tried to read. Instead the words decided to go for a swim on the page, frolicking up and down as if floating on the waves at Salisbury Beach. I closed the book with a sigh.

It was only eight o’clock, but I changed into my nightdress and donned the promised clean cap, selecting the oldest, softest one I had. I plumped up the pillows and reclined half sitting in bed as I had earlier, pulling my knees to my chest. Kevin had asked me to think if I’d had any clue as to my attacker’s identity. In my mind I moved through the sequence of events again.

Arriving at the property. Seeing the big house dark, unoccupied. Making my way to the carriage house. Had I seen any movement, any footprints in the snow? I didn’t think so. Sliding open the wide door. Surveying the inside, the horse stalls, the stairs, the graceful phaeton with its tall narrow wheels and gleaming metalwork. I paused there for a moment in my memory. Had I caught a faint whiff of a scent? But what had the scent been? I continued in my memory to feeling the blow. Falling forward. Passing out, although I couldn’t remember the last part.

The only clue might be in the scent. What with the wind blowing the snow and my preoccupation with the impending birth, I hadn’t heard a step, hadn’t sensed anyone behind me.

The door to my parlor cracked open. “May I?” Mother asked, holding a cup and saucer. “I brought thee some feverfew tea. It should help any pain in thy head.”

“Of course.” I patted the edge of the bed and accepted the tea. I sipped the hot herbal concoction, which she’d sweetened with a bit of honey. “This is perfect. I thank thee, Mother.”

She held up a tiny brown bottle. “Thee can also rub peppermint oil into thy temples, forehead, and jaw. It soothes and helps healing.”

I gazed at her with a heart full of gratitude. “Thee is the best mother ever. But speaking of mothers, I wanted to ask thee more about thy visit with Clarinda.”

She laughed as she sat. “She was wary at first. Far too polite, as ladies in her position tend to be, hiding behind the façade of etiquette. But when we fell to talking about David’s childhood, and thy own, we became simply two older mothers. We had more in common than she expected and the visit wasn’t a bit dismal.” She squeezed three drops of the oil onto her fingertips and began to massage it into my forehead.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the candy-like scent, but it didn’t take my mind off our conversation. “Did thee happen to broach the topic of our engagement?”

“No, I decided to leave thy marriage for the next time. And I now know there will be one.” She stroked the oil onto my temples on each side. “Don’t worry, Rose. Thee and thy sweetheart will marry as way opens.”

I rolled my eyes just a little. Patience was not my strong suit and I’d struggled with waiting for God to open the way forward my whole life. “Yes, Mother.”

“Is thee willing to share thy experience of this afternoon?” She sat back, her ministering done for the moment.

I took a deep breath and let it out, then told her what had transpired. “I was quite alarmed to wake up on the cold floor of the carriage house. At first I didn’t remember how I landed there. And to find the door locked was a test of my fortitude.”

“Of which thee has always had in great measure. At a young age thee would go hiking with Allan and when the two of you returned, even from ascending Mount Wachusett, he would report thee uttered not a word of complaint.”

“Those were happy times, just Daddy and me,” I said softly.

“And when thee resolved to move here and apprentice to old Orpha, it took quite a measure of courage to begin thy life’s work far from home.”

“At least Harriet and the children were nearby,” I said with a touch of wistfulness. “I’m glad I had those few years growing closer to her again.” My sister had been ten years older than I, and had married Frederick and started a family when she was only eighteen. Her sudden death a year and a half ago had been a blow much worse than the one I’d received today, to all of us.

“I’m glad too, even though I missed thee terribly. But back to thy story.”

I glanced up at a little knock on the door. Faith popped her head in. “Come in, niece,” I said.

Faith perched on the edge of my desk chair. “Was thee terribly afraid in that barn?”

“Yes, of course. But I was determined not to freeze to death in there. And the drop from the window wasn’t too very great.”

“A blessing,” Mother said. “Does thee have any clue about the villain who attacked thee?”

“Sadly, no. I have been giving it careful thought, as the detective asked me to, but I just don’t know. The person was wily enough to hide nearby and move without a sound before striking me.” I began to shake my head but thought the better of it. “I hope Kevin will take a man or two up there in the morning and look for signs.”

“Shouldn’t he also interview the neighbors?” Faith asked.

“Alas, there aren’t any close by. But a resident of the house farther down the hill was the person who let the police know they thought I was a suspicious traveler, so perhaps they also spied my attacker. I’m sure Kevin will speak to them.”

“Rose, I want to write a short article for the paper about thy attack,” Faith said. “May I?”

“I’ll look the fool, going to an unknown house in a snowstorm.” I pressed my lips together.

“No, thee will look like a committed and brave midwife,” Faith said. “And thy escape will only confirm it. It’s news the town will want to know about.”

“I suppose it’s all right, then.” How could I turn her down, this bright niece of mine, so determined to get out of the mill and into a career as a writer?

“It will be only a paragraph or two. I won’t bother thee. I’ll use what David told me. And I’ll try to get over to talk to Kevin on my dinner break tomorrow.” Faith stood, planted a light kiss on my forehead, and hurried out.

“She recognizes what is news and what will affect our community,” I said as I gazed at the doorway through which she’d disappeared. “She really wants to make a go of being a journalist.”

“And well she might. She needs to extricate herself from the mill. The work is too hard, the hours too long, and she’s liable to go deaf as a post from the din of those infernal machines.” Mother shook herself and rose. “I hope thee sleeps well, daughter. I’ll be just upstairs, so do call if thee needs me.”

“I will, Mother. It’s a great comfort to have thee here at this fraught time.”

She stroked my forehead before slipping out of the room. It hadn’t occurred to me until now to consider that the house halfway up Powow might have seen a buggy, a carriage, a wagon, whatever conveyance carried the evil person who hit me up the hill. My spirits rose at the thought. I extinguished the lamp and carefully laid my head down, sliding into sleep.

I awoke in the dark of the night with my head pounding so hard it made me nauseated. I swallowed, feeling close to vomiting. Gingerly easing up to sitting, I took slow deep breaths until my stomach settled and the pounding eased off to a less painful sense of pressure. I touched the wound but it wasn’t bleeding.

How long was this going to last? I’d never had a head injury before and didn’t have experience with any of my clients having one, either. I knew how to deal with injuries to the birth canal. How to stanch bleeding from tears. Which herb poultices aided healing. How deeply to massage a womb to encourage its contraction back to normal after the birth. And more. But this was a different kind of wound.

What if I was unable to attend the next birth I was called to? Annie wasn’t anywhere near experienced enough to deliver a baby on her own. My teacher, Orpha, had retired and handed over her practice to me nearly two years ago precisely because she was too old and frail to continue. She was no longer able to traipse off to a birth in the middle of the night, kneel to examine a woman on a bed, or stay awake for more than a day, as a midwife was often required to do. I wouldn’t be able to call on her.

There was a doctor in town who delivered babies, but John Douglass had been rather hostile to me the one time I’d solicited his advice on a difficult pregnancy. I wouldn’t be asking him for help. I didn’t know where to turn, what to do. I’d worked so hard to build up my practice, to establish trust with my clients, I couldn’t just abandon them. But if my current state of health continued, it would be impossible to do my job.

And what if the killer came after me again? A shudder rippled through me. Even when I became well enough to go out, would it be safe? Would I be followed, trapped, threatened? Would I have to look over my shoulder at every turn? Until the police arrested Rowena’s murderer, my own life would be at risk. I’d always been a confident, forthright person, but now I couldn’t conceive how to go forward without being surrounded by a dark cloud of fear.

I wished I were already married to David. What a comfort it would be to have him beside me in the middle of the night. To be able to reach over and touch him, talk with him about my joys and fears. To know his calm, steadying presence would always be with me. I prayed my mother’s meeting with Clarinda would soften her, make her more open to our union.

I scolded myself. For now, of course there was something I could do. I closed my eyes and held my fears in the Light of God as I had done my whole life. Way would open. I would be able to discern how to go out in the world without fear. I simply had to wait for it.