Shemaine faced the morning with a definite dread, reluctant to meet her master and suffer through the painful trauma of being within close proximity to him when both of them would find it difficult to think of anything except the night before, when he had caught her ogling his manly parts like some lewd strumpet. It had been embarrassing enough when she had found her hand caught against his loins, but what had happened during the night was even more humiliating. She yearned to lie abed until Gage went to his shop to work, but her duties as an indentured servant denied her the privilege of hiding out in her room like a spineless coward. She must make the best of their inevitable meeting, no matter how fervently she longed to vanish into thin air before that particular event came about.
When she made a cautious descent, Shemaine was relieved to find that Gage had already gone outside to attend his morning chores. It was not until she had breakfast laid out on the table and had found time to dress herself that he returned to the cabin with his usual offering of rations, a basket of eggs and a pail of milk. He glanced in appreciation at the food-laden table before setting the basket and pail on the counter beside her.
“It smells delicious, Shemaine.” Since she had been there, Gage had come to anticipate the morning meal perhaps more than any other, for she seemed to excel in cooking tasty dishes that he had memories of eating in his father’s home in England. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”
Timid about meeting his gaze, Shemaine focused her attention on pouring the contents of a small pan into a gravy boat. “ ‘Tis ready to be eaten as soon as I finish dishing up this sauce. Should I awaken Andrew?”
“Let him sleep. Poor little fellow, he had a hard night.”
However innocent his remark had been, it seemed to Shemaine a painfully blunt reminder of her horrendous blunder. The spoon that she had been about to put into the sauce shot through her fingers as if it had stiff springs attached to it. As she watched in horrified dismay, it skittered across the edge of the counter before plummeting to the floor. She bent quickly to retrieve it, but nearly collided with Gage, whose reflexes were faster. He scooped up the ladle and, offering it back to her, clapped his heels together. She shot a nervous glance toward him as she took it, provoking his curiosity. He could not help but notice her scarlet cheeks and the incertitude visible in her eyes. Stepping close, he canted his head in an effort to draw her gaze upward, but she feigned a sudden need to find another spoon and refused to look at him.
Gage was determined. He took her small chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face toward the light until he could search the beautiful visage. “What ails you, Shemaine?” he asked gently. “Do you think I care a whit that you saw me naked last night? Or that you may have spent a fleeting moment looking at me and perhaps appeasing your maidenly curiosity about men? Good heavens, girl, I understand that you went in there not to seduce me, but to comfort my son, and I’m grateful for that. What I must do is apologize for startling you, but a man cannot always control how his body responds to a beautiful woman. I’ve not been with another since Victoria died. There was certainly no woman in the hamlet I wanted to bed down with, and seeing you in my room aroused longings I’ve struggled hard to suppress since becoming a widower. I’m a man, Shemaine, subject to all the feelings and flaws of my gender. As a man, I greatly admire your beauty and enjoy your presence in my home. Watching you pleases me. You’re soft, alluring, gentle, and kind. You grace this cabin and our lives like a delicate flower that bestirs the senses with its fragrance and beauty. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve come to realize I do desire you as a woman. Yet I would never force you, Shemaine . . . or knowingly hurt you. I want the best for you, so don’t feel chagrined about what happened last night. As you may have surmised, I enjoyed you looking at me. It was most stimulating to find you in my room. Condemn me for that if you will, or simply accept me as a man who’s very interested in you as a woman.”
A soft, quavering sigh wafted from Shemaine’s lips. “I didn’t want to face you today,” she admitted diffidently. “I thought I couldn’t bear it.”
“You needn’t ever feel ashamed in my presence, Shemaine. I’ll never chide you for having honest feelings or being human.”
Still unsure of herself and even less certain of her situation, Shemaine inclined her head toward the table, murmuring quietly, “Your breakfast is getting cold, Mr. Thornton.”
“After you, Miss O’Hearn,” Gage replied, stepping back into a gallant bow and sweeping an arm before him invitingly.
“Daddee, where’re you?” Andrew called from the bedroom before he came tottering drowsily into the parlor.
“There you are, Sleepyhead,” Gage cried with a chuckle. Squatting down, he held his arms out wide for the boy.
Laughing, the youngster ran into his father’s embrace and was swung high into the air. Then upon gathering the boy close, Gage playfully nipped at his taut little stomach through the nightshirt, exaggerating a monstrous growl that evoked gleeful shrieks and giggles.
When Andrew was finally lowered into his high chair, he surveyed the food laid out before him and gave Shemaine a toothy grin. “Yummy! Yummy!”
Gage grinned at his bondslave. “I think that means ‘Let’s eat.’ Shall we oblige him?”
Shemaine found herself once more enchanted by the pair and, despite her continuing reservations, showed her obeisance with a curtsy. “I’m here to obey, m’lord.”
“Any claims to that title I left behind me in England,” Gage remarked offhandedly.
Shemaine’s brows gathered in confusion as she slowly straightened. Wondering what he had meant, she queried, “Is there a Lord Thornton?”
“My father, William, Earl of Thornhedge.” Gage lifted his shoulders in a casual dismissal of the title’s significance. “Not as impressive as a marquessate, but here in the colonies a title holds little importance to most of the populace, except for the British dignitaries.”
He swept a hand to indicate the bench behind her, silently bidding Shemaine to take a seat. As she did so, he slipped into the bench opposite her. Once before he had told her the story about Ol’ One Ear to put her at ease. This morning he recounted the tale of Sly Tucker trying to escape a bee while unloading supplies from the back of a wagon.
“Sly took a flying leap off the rear of it, but his toe got caught in a hole at the very end. He fell forward like a dead weight and sprawled flat on the ground, nearly breaking his nose. It was so badly bruised and skinned, everyone who saw him started laughing. Sly is usually rather gentle in nature, but the guffaws the incident provoked were loud enough to set him on edge. He mumbled many times afterwards that he would have been better off letting the bee sting him than contending with all the hilarity provoked by the sight of his swollen and bruised nose.”
Shemaine found herself suddenly giggling at the story. Then she glanced up and found her master regarding her with warmly glowing eyes, as if satisfied that he had been able to draw her out of her timidity. Shemaine dipped her head in acknowledgment of his accomplishment. “Thank you, Mr. Thornton.”
Gage feigned naïveté. “What did I do?”
“I think you know well enough,” she countered. “I was terribly discomfited by what happened last night, but you made me laugh, and for a moment I forgot that dreadful incident.”
He cocked his head at a contemplative angle. “What did you find so dreadful about it?”
Taken aback by his question, Shemaine had difficulty explaining all the emotions she had felt after realizing he had caught her ogling him. When she finally answered him, she could not keep her gaze from wavering beneath his steadfast stare, though she spoke with candor. “The fact that you might have thought me forward, Mr. Thornton.”
Gage shrugged away the notion. “You’re merely an innocent, curious about men. ‘Tis natural for an untried maid to be inquisitive.”
“You seem to know a lot about women, Mr. Thornton,” she gently goaded.
His lips curved with amusement as his brown eyes challenged her. “Certainly more than you know about men, Miss O’Hearn.”
Shemaine stared at him in shock, unable to dispute his statement. “Aye,” she sighed at length, lowering her gaze to her plate. “There is much I have to learn about men.”
Gage smiled at her bowed head, for he could think of no finer delight than to be the one to instruct her.
Ramsey Tate knocked on the back door while they were still at the morning meal, and leaned in to inquire, “May I enter?”
“Aye, Ramsey, come on in,” Gage bade, sliding down the bench to allow his friend to sit beside him. When Ramsey entered the kitchen, Gage couldn’t help but notice the dark circles beneath the man’s eyes, but he kept his inquiry simple. “Have you eaten?”
“Not anythin’ what looked this good, I can assure ye,” Ramsey said with a rueful chuckle, but he held up a hand to halt Shemaine when she made to rise and fetch a plate. “Nay, miss, I’d better not. What I ate is sittin’ like a hard lump on me belly. I cooked it meself an’ been regrettin’ it e’er since.”
“You’re here much earlier than usual,” Gage stated. “Is anything the matter?”
“Me missus is in a bad way,” Ramsey replied glumly. “I’m worried ’bout her, an’ I’d like ta stay with her today in case she needs me.”
Gage was immediately concerned. “Take as many days off as you need. Is there anything we can do?”
“Well, I’m not much on cookin’. If’n ye can manage ta send o’er ‘nough vittles for Calley an’ me youngest boy, Robbie, I’d appreciate it. I can make do meself with what I’m able ta put together, but I ne’er learnt meself ta cook, an’ it don’t seem right somehow ta make Calley suffer more’n she’s doin’ already. Me older boys’ve gone upriver ta work for their uncle ‘til midsummer, so at present there’s just us three at home.”
Gage was cautious about offering Shemaine’s services when he wasn’t sure if what Calley had was contagious. If food had to be delivered, then he would do it himself, keeping his distance for the sake of Andrew and the girl. “What do you suppose is the matter?”
Ramsey released a halting sigh. “I told ye some time ago ‘at Calley was gonna whelp ‘nother kid in late spring, but we’re now fearin’ she might be close ta losin’ the li’l fella. Accordin’ ta her count, it’s too early for the babe ta be comin’.”
Gage’s manner became resolute. “Calley should have a doctor’s care. If you don’t mind, I’ll bring Shemaine and Andrew over when I come and then fetch Dr. Ferris from town. Do you have any objections?”
Ramsey blinked away a start of tears. “I’d be grateful, Gage.”
“Go now, and see to Calley,” Gage enjoined. “We’ll be along as soon as we can.”
“Thank ye kindly.”
Some time later, Gage drew the wagon to a halt in front of the Tate cottage and escorted Andrew and Shemaine inside. Almost immediately Andrew and the three-year-old Robbie settled down on the kitchen floor to play with a set of wooden animals that Ramsey had made for his youngest son. Ramsey led Gage and Shemaine to the back of the house, where his stricken wife was ensconced in their bed. He went to her bedside and beckoned for their visitors to approach as he took his wife’s hand and introduced the newcomer.
“Calley, this be Mr. Thornton’s new bondswoman, Miss Shemaine. She’s here ta cook a meal for ye an’ li’l Robbie.”
Gage stepped near. “Shemaine will watch after you and the boys for a while until I return with a doctor. You’ll be in good hands, Calley.”
The woman nodded in answer and tried to smile as she shifted her gaze to the girl. “Pleasured ta make yer acquaintance, miss. I only wish it be under better circumstances.”
Gage and Ramsey took their leave, and Shemaine began to fluff the woman’s pillows and tidy the bed. Solicitously she asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Maybe keep me company for a while,” Calley suggested with a tentative smile. “Ramsey gets in such a stew when one o’ us gets sick, I’m almost relieved ta see him go ta work. His fidgetin’ wears on me.”
“No doubt he loves his family very much, and it makes him anxious when he sees one of you ailing,” Shemaine gently surmised.
“Oh, I knows that ta be true, al’right,” Calley declared with an abbreviated chuckle, but she stiffened suddenly as a spasm gripped her. Clenching her teeth, she silently endured the discomfort until the pain began to ebb. Then she looked up at Shemaine through a start of tears. “I was athinkin’ this babe might be a girl. We’ve five sons already, an’ I was sure, what with me carryin’ this one so different, we’d be havin’ ourselves a precious li’l girl this time.”
Shemaine gripped the woman’s slender hand. “Don’t lose hope, Mrs. Tate. Perhaps the doctor will be able to help you.”
Calley’s lips trembled with anxiety. “I ne’er had any trouble afore, an’ I’m frightened for me poor li’l babe.”
Bracing her hands on the mattress, Shemaine leaned forward to claim the other’s misty-eyed attention. “Then I’d say you’ve been very fortunate until now, Mrs. Tate. My own mother lost a baby after I was born and could not get with child again. So you see how tremendously blessed you’ve already been.”
With eyes closed and her lips moving fervently in prayer, Calley writhed in silent agony upon the bed. “The way I’m feelin’, miss, I fear I’ll be losing it afore Dr. Ferns can get here.”
Leaving her, Shemaine rushed to the kitchen. Gage had gone, and in his absence Ramsey was roaming about like a lost soul, not knowing what to do with himself. “You’d better get some water boiling just in case,” she urged, putting to flight his confusion. “And ready some rags and towels, but don’t bring them to the bedroom until I call for them.”
“Yes’m,” Ramsey replied, and set himself to completing her directive.
Folding back her sleeves, Shemaine pushed through the bedroom door and mumbled a silent prayer of her own as she returned to the woman’s bedside. “You know more about this kind of thing than I do, Mrs. Tate. I’m not squeamish. The voyage from England took away any girlish notions that I once might have had about being prudish, so if you’re of a mind to trust me, I’ll stay with you and do what needs to be done if such help is required before the doctor comes.”
“I trust ye,” Calley answered in a whisper. She began to twist again and claw at the sheets as she grieved over her impending misfortune, getting so worked up emotionally that she could not lie still.
“Relax if you can,” Shemaine soothed, remembering how her friend Annie had helped one of their cellmates on the London Pride through childbirth. The baby had been badly malformed, perhaps because of the lack of nourishment his mother had been subjected to. He hadn’t lived beyond a day, but Annie had coaxed the woman and brought her through her labor in good order. This was not the same kind of circumstance, Shemaine realized, but she grew resolved to help Calley in a similar fashion if she could. Except for her first experience of seeing a child born, she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to be of much benefit otherwise. “Try to imagine the baby and how you might help her by remaining calm. Don’t strain yourself or bear down to make her feel unwanted. Let her feel nurtured in the safe, warm haven of your body. Close your eyes and see how beautiful your daughter is. I think she will look like you, with hair like wheat and eyes the color of the sky. She’ll be the treasured pride of her brothers. . . .”
With lashes tightly closed, Calley nodded eagerly as an image of the girl began to form in her mind. Her breathing slowed, as if by magic, and the tears faded, to be replaced by a smile. “Aye, she’ll have a winsome face.”
Shemaine leaned forward to whisper close to her ear. “Can you see yourself holding your daughter close to your breast and gently rocking her as you sing a lullaby?”
Calley heaved a blissful sigh. “Aye, she likes the singing.”
“You’re smiling, Mrs. Tate,” Shemaine murmured. When the woman’s eyes came open in surprise, she laughed softly. “And the pain has passed.”
“Well, so it has!” Turning her head on the pillow, Calley looked at Shemaine through elated tears. “Can it be true? Can I talk meself into keeping this babe?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Tate,” Shemaine answered honestly. “But ‘twould seem to me that being hopeful and relaxed can be more advantageous to the both of you than being anxious and fretful.”
“Call me Calley, mum,” the woman earnestly implored. “I can tell ye’re a real lady, just like Mr. Thornton is a proper gentleman. He needs a wife like ye.”
“I’m only his bondswoman,” Shemaine asserted. The last thing she wanted, especially after the previous night’s ordeal, was to have this woman presume that her master intended to marry her and to make the mistake of saying something to him about it. She had apologized to Gage Thornton much too often of late.
“That’ll change,” Calley predicted, growing more confident. “Ramsey says it will. He said Mr. Thornton is already taken with ye.”
“Mr. Thornton is taken with my cooking,” Shemaine stated firmly. “Nothing more. Your husband is mistaken.”
Calley was amazed by her insistence that nothing could come of their association. “Would ye not marry him if he asked ye?”
“I was engaged to be married before I came here . . .” Shemaine’s words trailed to a halt, and she found herself unable to finish her statement. The memory of her betrothal seemed strangely detached from the reality of the present.
“England is a far piece off, mum, an’ Mr. Thornton is here, right ready ta become a husband. Do ye not think he’d make a handsome one?”
“Certainly, he would, but I . . .” Again words failed Shemaine.
“The man ye were engaged ta in England, was he as handsome as Mr. Thornton?” Calley pressed.
“I don’t know. . . .” Shemaine moaned, uneasy with such questions. By the standards of every eligible young lady in England, Maurice du Mercer had been considered the best-looking man in all of London. Yet Gage Thornton would have caused as much confusion in the hearts of those same maidens as she was presently experiencing. It seemed somehow disloyal to imagine her former fiancé as less attractive. It also seemed silly to fret about the degree of handsomeness of one over the other. She was sure that if she did think that Gage Thornton was more appealing, it was only because he was near and Maurice so far away.
“Do ye still love your fiancé?”
“I thought I did once,” Shemaine admitted lamely. “But that seems so long ago, and much has happened. I’m indentured to Mr. Thornton, and even if Maurice were to find me, I would not be free to marry him unless Mr. Thornton was willing to release me. Besides, Maurice may not even want me anymore, considering my arrest and all.”
“Mr. Thornton wants ye, ta be sure.”
“This discussion really seems pointless,” Shemaine replied, hoping to squelch the disturbing conjectures. “No one can predict with any certainty what Mr. Thornton may be thinking. I am simply his bondslave, and unless he speaks for himself, I shall consider any discussion on the subject of marriage purely speculative.”
“Aye, ‘tain’t right for us ta say what Mr. Thornton will do,” Calley conceded. “There be plenty enough o’ those what try ta guess at what he’s up ta without us doin’ the same.”
Shemaine breathed a sigh of relief, having made her point. Gathering the woman’s fingers in her own, she smiled down at her. “How are you feeling now?”
“A bit tired,” Calley acknowledged, smiling easier. “But better.”
“A little rest may do you and the baby good.”
“Aye, I think I can rest now . . . and hope.”
“Then I’ll leave you so you can. If you should have need of me, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
With a relaxed sigh, Calley closed her eyes, and Shemaine slipped quietly from the room. Ramsey was waiting in front of the hearth, and the stricken look on his face made her hasten to allay his fears.
“Your wife is feeling much better now and will be able to rest for a while.” The strain of the last hours was evident in his face, moving her to compassion. “I think ‘twould do you good to get some sleep, too,” she said kindly. “I’ll call you if something happens.”
Gage Thornton climbed down from his wagon and approached the physician’s cottage. A small woman in a neighboring yard was pulling weeds that had overgrown an earlier year’s garden, but when he strode up the walk, she straightened and squinted against the sun to watch him. When he tapped on the front door, she called to him.
“If ye’ve come ta see the doc, he’s gone upriver a ways ta mend a broken leg. He won’t be back for a spell. If’n ye can write, ye can leave a note sayin’ where ye wants him ta go once he gets back. Doc Ferris said for me to say as much ta any what came. He also left a quill an’ things on his porch for those what be o’ such a mind.”
Gage Thornton faced the drably garbed woman, wondering if he had ever met her before, for her voice sounded strangely familiar. As he walked across the lawn toward her, he noticed that the whole side of her jaw was darkly bruised and swollen. Even so, he keenly recalled the tiny woman who had encouraged him to buy Shemaine on the London Pride.
“Annie Carver?” The facial bruises looked even worse up close, and he couldn’t help but inquire, “Good heavens, woman, what has happened to you?”
Dumbfounded, Annie lifted a dirt-crusted hand and shaded her eyes against the brightness of the solar orb as she tried to see him clearly. “ ‘Oo is it?”
“Gage Thornton. I bought Shemaine O’Hearn, remember?”
The woman hooted and slapped a hand against her leaner cheek. “Blimey, gov’na! Remember ye? How could I forget? It just took me a bit ta see ye clearly, what with the sun in me eyes an’ all. How’s Shemaine?” Her eyes filled with sudden apprehension. “She ain’t hurt, is she? Be that why ye’re wantin’ the doc?”
“No, she’s all right, Annie. Actually I came for a friend of mine. His wife is due to give birth in late spring, but she’s having trouble now . . . may even lose the babe.”
“I knows a thing or two about birthin’ babies,” Annie informed him shyly. “Me ma were a midwife afore she took ill an’ died, but she taught me what ta do ta help a woman a wee bit. But me master, he’d ne’er let me go with ye.”
“Did your master do that to you?” Gage asked gently, indicating her blackened cheek.
Embarrassed, Annie lifted her shoulders in a feeble-hearted shrug. “I guess Mr. Myers thought I deserved a knock or two for burnin’ his supper. He told me ta go out an’ chop some wood ’cause his parlor was chilly. It took a mite longer’n I figgered.” She peered at Gage quizzically. “What ’bout yerself, gov’na? Ye gettin’ ‘nough ta eat with Sh’maine cookin’ for ye?”
“I’m happy to say she’s an exceptional cook, Annie. I couldn’t have found a better one had I ventured clear to London town.”
Annie gave him a sober, sidelong stare. “Last night, this here Mrs. Pettycomb come o’er ta talk ta me master . . . Samuel Myers . . . ’bout how ye’d gone an’ bought yerself a convict ta service yer manly cravings, an’ how ye’d almost killed the bosun from the London Pride ’cause he tried ta take her away from ye.”
Gage grew a bit irate over the unswerving verve of the old busybody in spreading her biased stories about the hamlet. “Mrs. Pettycomb usually enlarges upon everything she hears, Annie, so I wouldn’t put much stock in what she says if I were you. She seems to enjoy deliberately distorting the facts to enliven her tales.”
Annie was in hopes that he would explain further, but Gage remained reticent about his purposes for buying Shemaine, for he saw no reason for justifying himself to everybody who lent an ear to the lurid tales being told about him. If he ever made such an attempt, he’d never come to the end of it, especially since the matron and her circle of busybodies seemed inclined to prattle about him continuously.
The front door was snatched open, and Samuel Myers stalked out to the edge of his porch, where he stood with one arm behind his back. Glaring at them, he assumed the disposition of a red-faced dictator. “You lazy bitch!” he snarled at Annie. “I didn’t buy your papers so you could talk to every no-account that passes my gate. Get back to your work before I lay my fist to your other cheek. And I warn you, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay busy while I’m gone, or I’ll flay your blooming hide. I can’t leave my shop every hour on the hour just to check on you. My customers will begin to fret and think I’ve left town.”
Gage’s brow grew sharply peaked as he peered across the yard at the man. For once, he had to agree with Morrisa Hatcher. The little man was as detestable as the meanest rat. The idea of leaving Annie in his care without making some attempt to help her just didn’t seem right somehow. “Would you be of a mind to hire your bondswoman out for a fee, Mr. Myers?”
Samuel Myers was clearly bemused. He pushed his spectacles up higher on his broad nose and, with a dubious smirk, contemplated Gage more closely. “What’s the matter, Mister Thornton? One wench ain’t enough for you? You’ve got to have two in your bed?”
If it had been the man’s intent to rile Gage, then he surely accomplished his purpose, for Gage could feel an intensifying animosity building within him as he returned a stony stare to the other’s taunting jeer. Myers had evidently heard a great many rumors about him, whereas Gage knew only that the man he conversed with was a haberdasher of gentlemen’s clothing. Considering the gossips’ zeal to wag their tongues, it would not have surprised Gage if Samuel Myers considered him a dangerous man. As for that, the way Myers kept his right arm tucked carefully behind his back led Gage to believe that a pistol was cocked and held ready in the man’s hand, for he just couldn’t imagine the little weasel being so reckless otherwise, especially if he believed all the rumors that were being circulated about how dangerous the cabinetmaker was.
“I have an employee whose wife is dangerously close to having a miscarriage,” Gage replied with measured care. It was not the threat of a pistol that made him cautious, but the realization that any show of hostility might spoil his chances to help Shemaine’s friend. “Annie said she could possibly be of assistance to Mrs. Tate if she were able to go. If you’d allow her to leave with me, I’d be willing to pay you for her time. The doctor might be gone for a while, and right now there’s no one else at the Tates’ who knows what to do.”
“You could just as well take your own bondswoman over there, Mister Thornton,” Myers suggested, curling his lip in a sneer. “Unless, of course, you can’t bring yourself to part with the wench that long. She’s mighty fetching for an Irish bitch, and I’m wondering if she’s as pleasing to look at in bed as out.”
“You use the word bitch much too loosely, Mr. Myers, and presume upon a lady’s character,” Gage retorted, feeling his temper rising sharply. He paused a moment to regain control of himself before he spoke again. “The girl is already there doing what she can, but she doesn’t know enough to be of much help to Mrs. Tate.”
Samuel Myers was always willing to make a coin in one fashion or another, and he could think of no easier way to collect a goodly sum than to allow his bondslave to earn it for him. “How do I know I can trust you to bring Annie back?”
Gage realized he would have to offer a generous guarantee to even interest the man. “If you’d like, I can leave a deposit in your care equal to what you paid for her. All you need do is show me some evidence of what that amount may be and then sign a receipt promising to return it once I bring Annie back.”
“She cost me fifteen pounds,” the man stated with a caustic snort. “But ‘twill cost you another five to lease her out.”
“Five pounds! Good heavens, man! I’m not keeping her for a year!”
“ ‘Twill be five pounds or nothing at all.” Mr. Myers shrugged as he exaggerated his own needs. “I have important work for Annie to do here and must be compensated for any delay her absence will cause me.”
Gage became a little more demanding himself. “For five pounds, I’ll expect to have her for at least two full weeks, nothing less.”
Samuel Myers smirked. “I suppose I can make do on my own for that long, but be warned, if you don’t bring her back, all the money will be mine.”
“All the money will be yours,” Gage grumbled in agreement, feeling as if he’d just been swindled. “But I’ll need that receipt just in case you might be of a mind to say that I’ve stolen her from you.”
“You’ll get your receipt,” Mr. Myers retorted insolently, “but she’ll leave here in the same clothes she came in.”
Gage glanced around to see what Annie was wearing and promptly wondered why the clothier concerned himself about such an unworthy garment.
“Unless, of course,” Myers prodded, “you’re willing to pay for the gown, too.”
Gage declined with a disdaining jeer. “You may keep the gown, Mr. Myers. I’m sure I’ve seen better in Mrs. Tate’s rag bin.”
Gage reclaimed his seat in the wagon a few moments later and headed back toward the Tates’ cabin, accompanied by Annie, who had garbed herself in the gown she had worn during the voyage. It was still just as ragged, but thankfully it had been washed.
Shemaine would be relieved to see her friend, Gage knew, but as for himself, there was much to think about. He would have to figure out a way to recoup his losses, because he just couldn’t feature himself returning a bondslave to a master who abused women like Samuel Myers had proven himself capable of doing. Neither could he imagine keeping Annie himself, for he was completely content with Shemaine and didn’t want to invite another woman into his home on a permanent basis. Although the Tates needed Annie at the present time, they couldn’t afford to buy her when they were saving nearly every farthing for their sons’ education. At present, he couldn’t think of what other options were open to him, but hoped that he’d have some idea by the time her services were no longer needed by the Tates.
On the seat beside him, Annie chafed like an overanxious mother. “Did ye leave the doc a note so’s he’d know where ta come when he returns?”
“I took care of that while you were changing clothes.”
“An’ ye put it in a place where he’ll find it as soon as he returns?”
“Aye.”
“In a safe place, where Mr. Myers can’t find it?”
“I slipped the note beneath his door, and the door is locked,” Gage answered, wearied by her relentless inquiries.
“What if he don’t look down? The doc is gettin’ on in years, ye know. He said he’d be two score an’ five years come Friday next.” It seemed an extremely ancient age to Annie, who had barely a score of years to her credit.
“Annie, stop your fretting,” Gage urged impatiently. “You vex me with all your questions.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Thornton,” she murmured contritely. “I just want ta make sure the doc’ll be comin’ so’s yer friends won’t be dependin’ on me alone. I knows a lot ’bout birthin’ babies, coolin’ a fever, or tendin’ wounds, but I’m thinkin’ it might be better ta have someone there what’s had some proper learnin’.”
“Proper learning or not, Annie, you’ll be staying with the Tates for a while to watch over Calley, so you may not be able to rely on the doctor being there when you need him the most. Ramsey works for me. He’s also my friend, and I want you to do what you can for his wife, to make her comfortable and, if it’s within your capability, to save the baby. His family means a lot to him. Do you understand?”
“Aye, gov’na,” she answered meekly.
“They have a little boy you’ll be taking care of until Calley is on her feet again,” he said, glancing askance at her.
Annie’s sudden elation was proof that she was now looking forward to staying with the family. Blissfully she sighed, “Oh, I’d like that.”
Upon their arrival at the Tates’, Gage went into the cottage to look for Shemaine and found her in the kitchen preparing the noon meal. He paused beside the hearth as she knelt to push a loaf of bread into the iron oven. “I brought a woman back with me who can help out here for a while, so you and Andy can come back home with me when I leave.”
“Mr. Tate insisted that I cook enough for all of us,” she explained, closing the oven door and rising to her feet. “He was quite emphatic about you staying to eat with him.”
“We can stay that long if it means so much to him,” Gage assured her.
Shemaine smiled gently. “I’m sure your presence will help distract him, Mr. Thornton. He’s been beside himself since you left. He refused to sleep, though I told him Calley was feeling better. He’s out chopping wood in the back yard right now just to keep himself from worrying. Perhaps if you’d spend some time with him before we leave, it would help him get through this.”
“I’ll do what I can, Shemaine,” Gage replied. “In the meantime, why don’t you show the woman into the bedroom and introduce her to Calley?”
Shemaine was somewhat bewildered by his directive, for she could only assume the woman would have to introduce herself, but when Gage stepped aside to reveal the one who had followed him in, Shemaine gave a glad cry and flung herself into the open arms of her friend.
“Oh, Annie! I was so worried about you!” she exclaimed with tears filling her eyes. She hugged the tiny woman and then stepped back to have a better look at her, but her joyful expression turned to one of gloom as she noticed Annie’s face. Reaching out a hand, she touched the bruised cheek tenderly. “Is this something your master did, or did you perhaps walk into a wall?”
Annie waved away her concern. “Ne’er mind me face, m’liedy. Just let me look at ye!” Her eyes swept the slender form. Then she gathered Shemaine’s thin hands in her own and laughed in pleasure. “Ye’re lookin’ grand! Simply grand!”
“Come into the bedroom and meet Calley,” Shemaine urged, taking Annie’s arm. “And then you can tell us how you came to be here.”
“Oh, I’ll tell ye right now. If ‘tweren’t for yer master layin’ out twenty pounds for me, I’d ne’er be here at all.”
Shemaine halted abruptly and, tugging on Annie’s arm, pulled the tiny woman around to face her. “What do you mean, Annie? Did Mr. Thornton buy you?”
“Not exactly.” Annie shrugged. “He paid out five pounds ta rent me, so ta speak, but if’n he don’t take me back, then he’ll be twenty pounds poorer.” She shook her head in wonder, amazed by his ability to lay out such a large a sum. “Yer Mr. Thornton must be rich or somethin’.”
“He’s not rich, Annie, just very, very wonderful, I’m thinking,” Shemaine said with an elated smile.
Dr. Colby Ferris, a tall, gray-haired man with gaunt features and a perpetual stubble covering half his face, arrived before they finished the noon meal. Annie took her duties seriously and provided the physician with warm water and soap to wash his hands and clean linens with which to dry them before she would allow him in the woman’s bedroom.
“Me ma said ‘tweren’t right for a midwife ta leave one house an’ go ta ‘nother where babies were bein’ born without showin’ proper respect ta the mothers by washin’ yer hands.”
The tall doctor settled a stern stare upon the small woman. “Young lady, do you know how many babes I’ve brought into this world?”
Annie settled her thin arms akimbo and stubbornly held her ground. “Prob’ly more’n I can count, but what hurt is it gonna do ta wash yer bloomin’ hands after tendin’ the sick or maybe touchin’ the dead . . . or . . .” She searched mentally for another good reason and finally flung up a hand in frustration toward the window through which the mount he had arrived on could be seen. “Or ridin’ a smelly ol’ horse?”
Dr. Ferris seemed momentarily taken aback by the small woman’s impertinence, but after a lengthy pause, he scrubbed a hand reflectively over his bristly chin and began to chuckle, much to the relief of those who had witnessed the confrontation. “I guess there’ll be no harm done by washing my hands. What about my feet? Will you be inspecting them, too?”
Annie glanced down without thinking, and then clapped a hand over her mouth as she saw his dusty boots and realized that she had been a victim of his humor. Leaning her head back to meet his gaze, she gave him a wide grin, lending some charm to her plain face. “Wipin’ ’em will be good enough for the time bein’, I suppose, but ye’d best be mindin’ yer manners, ’cause I’m gonna be meetin’ ye at the door when ye come back . . . at least for a while.”
A hoary brow shot up to a lofty level, as if the doctor had taken offense at her threat, but his next query had nothing to do with her demands. “What about that toad, Myers? Is he going to let you stay here without raising a ruckus?”
Annie Carver was astounded by the physician’s obvious conclusion. “I came here with his consent, I did, so ye needn’t be a-thinkin’ I skedaddled. Mr. Thornton gots a paper ta proves it.”
Dr. Colby Ferris scoffed. “It must have taken a goodly sum to get you out of that toad’s clutches. Myers has never been overly generous with his possessions.”
“Oh, it took a goodly sum, al’right,” Annie agreed, and threw a thumb over her shoulder to indicate her benefactor. “Mr. Thornton had ta lay out twenty pounds, five ta rent me an’ fifteen ‘gainst the likelihood o’ me not bein’ returned.”
“Are you saying that Myers actually signed a receipt to that effect?”
Annie nodded cautiously, not at all sure why the doctor was so shocked. “That he did, gov’na.”
Colby Ferris looked pointedly at Gage. “Then I’d advise you to keep the receipt safe, sir, because Myers isn’t to be trusted. He’ll cheat you if he can . . . or find some way to call you a thief.”
“I don’t know the man very well, except that I’ve come to dislike him in a very short span of time,” Gage admitted. “You can be certain I’ll be as careful as I can.”
The doctor waved a hand toward Annie’s battered face. “You know, of course, that Myers will do more of this to the girl if you take her back to him.”
“Do you have any suggestions as to what I should do?” Gage was eager for a solution to his quandary. He briefly indicated Shemaine, who stood washing Andrew’s face at the far end of the table. “I have a bondswoman already, and there’s no room in my cabin for another.”
The elder stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve seen the girl working at Myers’s place and know what she’s capable of.” He snorted as he digressed a bit. “Work that Myers should’ve been doing instead of laying such tasks on a little girl.”
“Do you need an assistant?” Gage queried hopefully. “Annie says she’s had some experience with midwifery and such. Perhaps you could use a servant to keep your house.”
Dr. Ferris seemed to dismiss the notion as he tossed a glance toward Annie. “What? And see myself vexed into washing my hands every time I sneeze? Lord save me from such a fate.”
“Ye needn’t worry ’bout me!” Annie declared hotly, miffed by the doctor’s casual rebuff. “I’ll go back ta Mr. Myers when I’m done here. ‘Twouldn’t be the first time I’ve been knocked ‘longside the head.”
Stepping to the washstand, Dr. Ferris proceeded to scrub his hands and face until they were clean. Drying them on a towel, he offered Annie a grin. “Are you going to show me where Mrs. Tate is now? Or are you going to stand there like an outraged porcupine with your quills all bristled?”
“Mrs. Tate’s doin’ better since M’liedy Sh’maine had a talk with her. Maybe ye could buy Shemaine from Mr. Thornton an’ take her on yer calls with ye,” Annie suggested tartly.
Gage lowered an ominous scowl upon the small woman. “I didn’t lay out my hard-earned money for you, Annie, so you could sell Shemaine behind my back.”
Annie grinned back at him. “Mighty touchy ’bout her, ain’t ye? Maybe ye like her more’n a mite.”
“I like Shemaine just fine,” Gage stated emphatically. “And I’m not willing to sell her. Do I make myself clear?”
Ferris glanced at Annie, curbing a chuckle. “I guess that means I’d better look elsewhere for an assistant.”
“That’s the bloomin’ truth if I e’er heard it,” Annie agreed, cackling gleefully as she cast an eye toward Gage, who finally relented enough to smile.
“Come on, Doc,” Annie urged, beckoning to him. “I’ll show ye the missus.”
She led the doctor to the back bedroom, and while Ramsey paced with renewed anxiety, Gage helped Shemaine clear the food and dishes from the table in spite of her repeated assurances that there was no need for him to do so. Several reasons prevented Gage from taking his leave before the doctor had completed his examination. He knew Shemaine wanted to hear the verdict, and Ramsey needed him there as a buffer against possible bad tidings. Then, there were his own concerns, for he realized he was not as distant to the matter as he might have supposed. The Tates were his friends, and he wanted to be there to offer support in whatever way proved beneficial.
The baby’s condition could not be determined, Dr. Ferris announced solemnly when he returned to the parlor. Nor could he predict whether Calley would carry her child full term or if she would lose it in the weeks to come. It was imperative that she remain in bed if she held out any hope of giving birth to a healthy baby, and he instructed Annie to watch over the woman carefully, for it would be no easy task keeping a hardworking mother inactive. If there was anyone who could accomplish such a feat, he was sure it was Annie. After all, he needled with amusement, she had made him wash his hands.
The doctor wisely advised Ramsey Tate to return to his cabinetmaking, for his wife’s sake as well as his own. It would only make Calley anxious if she saw her husband fearful, he reasoned. Working would not only serve to occupy Ramsey’s time, but his thoughts as well, no doubt reducing his constant worry.
Before Dr. Ferris took his leave, he promised to make regular house calls to keep abreast of Calley’s condition and, if a meal was furnished at such a time to ease his widowered state, he would count that as payment enough. Then he quipped that he hoped Annie was as good at cooking as she was at taking charge.