Frontier Wife (18 page)

“You were stupid coming up here. But whoever left that poor dog tied up should be bloody horsewhipped.”

“I’ve never seen anything so cruel. They must have known he would get burnt.”

He edged closer and ran his thumb gently along her lower lip. “You care too much.”

Dear God, humiliation surged through her. Did he know what effect his presence had on her?

After a time he deemed it safe to venture forth. The flames had been so fierce the blackberry brambles, just blackened ashes, still smoldered. Tommy squelched along in her waterlogged boots. With their clothes filthy and ripped, they must look like a pair of scarecrows.

For as far as the eye could see the bush smoldered. Some trees stood black, twisted and grotesque, others degenerated into piles of smoking soot. As they trudged along she glanced over one shoulder, and away in the distance, the fire roared up into the mountains again.

“What are you doing here?” David dashed up to them. “I couldn’t believe it when someone said they saw you.”

“Mary and I got worried so I came to check whether you were both safe. Where’s Jim?”

“Just over there.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Once more it seems we’re in your debt, Munro.”

Adam brushed away his thanks. “I suggest you keep a tighter rein on your sister in future.” He strode off. If Tommy could have found a rock she would have hurled it at his departing back. The fleeting tenderness disappeared and he declared war on her again.

“What gets into him when he’s near you?” David stared at her. “He’s civil enough when you’re not around.”

“How would I know?” She shrugged indifferently. So, he acted in a civilized manner when she wasn’t around. What was it about her that brought the animal out in him?
Probably hates the fact I won’t be cowed by him
. The other alternative being he fought against his attraction to her like she did to him. No, that couldn’t be it because he planned to marry the-oh-so-suitable Sophia Bothroyd. This last thought tore her heart to shreds.

Jim strode up to them. “Good morning, Tommy; Munro said you were here. We might as well head off, reinforcements have arrived from town. Is Mary all right?”

They strolled towards their horses. “She’s been worried sick about you, that’s why I decided to come up to make sure you were both safe.”

“You’ll be the death of me one day, I swear it.” David gave an exaggerated sigh.

“I’ve never felt so in need of a bath in my whole life,” she said. “And I think I could sleep for a week.”

On arrival at the homestead, a relieved Mary and an excited Jamie greeted them. How touching to see Mary and Jim embracing with such affection. That’s how it would have to be for her, Tommy decided.

Mary, with Jamie’s help, had tins of boiling water on the stove ready. As soon as they left, refusing to stay for a meal, David helped Tommy to fill up the bath tub. She lay in the warm, soapy water surveying several nasty scratches on her hands and arms. If it hadn’t been for Adam, she might well have succumbed to the might of the bushfire.

“My darling,” he had whispered. A slip of the tongue in the heat of the moment with the flames bearing down on them?
Idiotic fool, he can’t stand the sight of you.

Chapter Nine

Tommy and Jamie rode over to see Mary. Touser followed along with them. As they drew near to the Cavendish homestead, she saw smoke drifting from the chimney, otherwise no sign of life.

They dismounted, tethering their horses in the shade of a tree. Jamie darted off to play on a swing someone had erected in the back yard.

“Anyone home?” she called out before entering the homestead. In the kitchen everything looked clean and tidy.

“Tommy, Tommy,” Mary's frantic voice came from the bedroom.

Dashing into the room, Tommy gasped. Mary lay awkwardly on the bed, her face twisted in pain.
“Thank goodness you’re here. I think the baby's coming.”

“I'll make us some tea, just lie still, everything will be fine.” Could that thin reedy voice be hers?

Out in the kitchen she threw a log on the fire and set the kettle on to boil. On hearing a frightened scream she dashed back into the bedroom. Panic surged through her, but she crushed it with ruthless determination.

“Help me.” Mary gasped, her face twisting with pain as another contraction tore through her.

Fighting back her own fear, Tommy picked up the other girl's hand. “You'll be all right,” she soothed, “I'll send Jamie home for David. He can get the doctor or midwife for you.”

“Yes, hurry. Please. I wish Jim hadn’t gone on that second cattle drive.”

Tommy rushed outside calling Jamie's name as she went. He came running up with Touser bounding at his side. “Listen carefully, darling. You must ride home for David. Tell him Mary has started to have her baby, and we need help.”

She hated having to send a five-year-old on such a long ride alone. “Hurry, you understand?”

“Mary's having her baby,” he recited as she lifted him up into the saddle. Once he rode off, she dashed back inside.

Mary started calling out, panic-stricken now. “Help me. Oh, God, help me.” She clung to Tommy's hand as another spasm of pain caused her to scream. When it passed she slumped exhausted against the pillows.

Tommy poured some water on a cloth and sponged her friend's face, trying to soothe her with words of comfort.

“My mother will be here tomorrow, but I think she’ll be too late,” she said hoarsely.

“I’m sure your mother will arrive in time.” Tommy forced a reassuring smile. “Let me help you into a nightgown.”

After she sponged Mary down and helped her into a fresh nightgown, Tommy went to the kitchen. She filled up every saucepan in the house and set them on the stove to boil.

“Old linen, yes they would need some.” Muttering to herself she dashed back into the bedroom. “I'll just get everything laid out ready for when your mother arrives tomorrow.” First babies always took their time about arriving; they had plenty of time. Why panic?

Mary told her where to find everything. She laid the baby's clothes out, only to give herself something to do. She ripped up an old sheet, trying to think of anything else that needed to be done.

“It's all right.” She sponged her friend again and laid a warm, damp towel over her stomach, trying to make her comfortable; not an easy thing in such primitive surroundings. The window stood open, the curtains hanging limp in the stillness, with not even a breath of wind stirring outside.

The wickerwork baby basket was already made up. If only David would hurry up and arrive with help.

Time passed, Mary's pains became more frequent and of greater intensity causing her to cry out every now and again. Tommy felt tempted to join her, but dared not. She had to be courageous, resolute; Mary and the baby’s life might depend on it.

“Don't be brave. Scream your head off if you want to.” She alternately sponged her friend down, paced the floor or kept an eye on the saucepans.

Night had fallen when the sounds of hoof beats racing towards the homestead brought tears of relief to her eyes. Thank goodness David was here to support her until help arrived. She heard his booted feet on the verandah, the door swung open and she launched herself at him, sobbing her relief into his shirt.

“Thank heavens you came. Mary's just about ready to have her baby. How long will the doctor be?”

He wrapped his arms around her, and she felt his fingers trailing up and down her spine.

“There’s no doctor coming.”

“You!” She struggled to free herself from Adam Munro's imprisoning arms.

“Yes, Tommy, me.”

“I thought you were David.”

Adam dropped his arms and stepped away. “I know. You wouldn't be giving me such a heartfelt welcome.” He gave a taunting grin. “I enjoyed it while it lasted, though.”

“I wanted a doctor or a midwife.”

“Well, you’ll just have to put up with me. It would have taken too long for me to ride…” A scream from the bedroom interrupted them and she rushed into her friend.

“It's coming. It's coming.”

“Adam Munro is here.”

“Where’s the doctor? Oh, God, don't let Mr. Munro see me like this, please.”

“I might need his help.”

“You won't, you're so strong and brave. Nothing frightens you.”

Who was she trying to convince? Tommy felt a quivering mass of nerves, ready to collapse in a heap at any moment. A miracle Mary didn't see her trembling.

She dashed into the kitchen. “I think Mary's ready to have the baby. What will I do?” She wrung her hands in despair.

“Deliver it.” He had lit the lamp in the kitchen, and brought in another bucket of water from the well.

“I can't. I don't know what to do.”

“It’s a natural process. You're a woman, aren't you?” His gaze wandered over her, his expression seeming to suggest he thought otherwise. She had rolled her sleeves up to the elbows and undid the top two buttons of her bodice in an endeavor to keep cool. She must look an absolute wreck.

“You…you’ve delivered a baby?”

“Not of the human variety, but it’s the same procedure. Support the head when it comes out; rotate the shoulders if you need to.”

She started trembling. What if something went wrong? Mary or the baby, or even both of them could die.

“For God’s sake. Pull yourself together.” He grasped both her arms and shook her slightly. “Where's the clever brave Tommy I keep hearing about from Jamie, the sister who isn't afraid of anything?”

“I am frightened. You need to help.”

“You think Mrs. Cavendish would want me seeing her…well, in that state?”

“Please, Adam, you have to help me.”

“You make me sick. Little hot house English rose,” he sneered, “with your nose stuck up in the air; but when it comes down to it, you've got no guts.”

The contempt in his voice straightened her spine, stilled her shaking hands. No one had ever spoken to her in such a dreadful manner before.

“I hate you.” She swung away from him.

“I'll keep the fire going and make sure you have plenty of warm water.”

Ignoring him, she almost ran into the bedroom.
I'll show him. How dare he
berate me in such a manner?
Who did this uncouth frontier man think he was? Anger and fear warred with each other—anger won.

As the delivery drew near, the world outside turned pitch black. Adam lit two more lanterns. He set one up on the dresser, another he hung from the ceiling.

“Everything will be all right, Mrs. Cavendish.” He gave a devastating, ice melting smile. “You’re in capable hands. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me for anything. Tommy,” he lowered his voice, “after the baby’s birthed, don’t tie the umbilical cord until it stops pulsating, then cut it, and don’t panic if it takes a little while for the placenta to come away.”

Once the baby started, it came fast, a perfectly formed little girl. Tommy laid the child gently between her mother’s legs and followed Adam’s instructions; she was too frightened to do anything else. The baby didn’t cry, even after the cord was cut, severing her from her mother. There was a bluish tinge to the infant’s skin. Oh, God, she wasn’t breathing. Grabbing the baby, Tommy dashed out into the kitchen.