Jack and Sam Ellis shed their linsey shirts as the late June sun beat down on them. Sweat poured down Jack’s face as he swung his scythe over and over. After an hour of steady mowing, Sam called to him, and he stopped his rhythm and laid down the scythe. Sam walked toward him, drinking from the cider jug as he came.
“Here, you need a rest.”
Jack took a swig of sweet cider. At least it was cooler than the air around him. They had sunk the jug in the shallow water at the edge of the creek when they began haying.
“I should be at the house,” he said with an anxious glance toward home.
“The ladies will tell us when you’re allowed,” Sam reminded him.
Jack sighed. “She’s working harder than we are, and it’s too hot for this.”
“She’ll do fine, Jack.”
“That’s easy for the father of ten healthy youngsters to say.”
A call reached them, and both men turned to stare up the slope. Sarah Ellis stood near the woodpile, waving her apron.
Jack thrust the jug into Sam’s hands and bolted for home.
Before he reached her, he could see that Sarah’s face was one huge smile.
“Lucy?” he gasped.
“She’s fine, and so is your son!”
Jack laughed. “It’s a boy?”
“A strapping, healthy boy.”
“I thank you, Sarah.” Jack ran around to the door and hurried to the bedchamber.
Alice Hamblin was bending over the bed, holding a bundle wrapped in flannel. “Well, well, here’s Papa,” she said with a smile.
Jack slowed his pace and walked forward, trying to control his panting. His heart flipped as he looked at Lucy. Her hair was plastered to her brow, and her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but her face radiated joy.
He sat on the edge of the bed and took her in his arms. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I am,” she whispered.
He held her close.
After a moment, Alice said, “Well, Papa, do you want to see little Johnny?”
“Johnny?” Jack asked, blinking at her.
She nestled the bundle into his arms, and Jack looked down at his son. In spite of Sarah’s description, the baby seemed tiny, and his face was red. Golden down grew on his head, and he opened his mouth in a huge yawn.
Jack laughed. “He’s beautiful, Mother Hamblin, but didn’t Lucy tell you? We’re naming him for your late husband.”
“That’s right, Marm,” Lucy said with a smile. “We’ll save Jack’s Christian name for next time. This is Thomas Hunter.”
Alice bent over the baby, her eyes wet with tears. “Thank you. That’s a wonderful gift you’ve given this old granny.” She smiled and stroked the infant’s head. “He looks like Lucy’s brothers did when they were born.”
“I don’t mind.” Jack grinned. “The Hamblins all be handsome.”
“You must write to Simon tonight and tell him we have a boy,” Lucy said.
“I shall.”
The baby stirred and let out a little wail.
“What do I do?” Jack asked in dismay.
“Give him to his mama.” Alice laughed. “Now, pardon me, and I’ll go help Sarah fix dinner and do a bit of laundry. We’ll bring you something to eat in a few minutes.”
She left the room, and Jack passed the baby to Lucy, feeling clumsy in his new role.
“When I married you, I never thought I’d live to see this day,” he said.
“Nor I,” she admitted. She cuddled the baby close. “Most women would say their wedding day was the happiest day of their life, but that’s not so with me.”
“Nay, that was quite a grim day,” he agreed. “Today is much happier.”
She smiled at him over the baby’s head. “Aye. Today is wonderful. But still, I think the very best day …”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Go on.”
She squeezed his hand. “The best day of my life was the day your name was cleared, Jack Hunter, and you stopped courting me.”