‘I suppose you’ve heard me being sick too.’
‘Aye,’ Connie said. ‘But though it came as a shock to me, I’m still delighted. What did Danny say?’
‘He doesn’t know yet.’
‘Och, girl, he should have been told first,’ Connie chided gently. ‘When d’you intend to tell him?’
‘Today,’ Rosie said. ‘I wanted to be absolutely sure first. None of my family know either – the weather has been too bad for me to make it to their house since Christmas.’
‘Well, lose no time in telling Danny.’
Rosie nodded. ‘I will, as soon as he comes in.’
Danny, Phelan and Matt had gone up to the hills with the two farm dogs, Meg and Cap, to collect and bring the sheep down to the lower pastures where it was easier to feed them the bales of hay which they relied on for the winter. Nearer to the house it was also easier to keep an eye on the pregnant ewes too, for some of them were due to give birth within the month. They’d been gone a couple of hours already, for it was a tidy tramp, and Danny told her the odd sheep often got into difficulties which they needed to sort out.
Rosie didn’t envy them: the cold was intense. It was almost too cold to snow, though there had been a sprinkling in the night and this had since frozen solid and lay sparkling on the yard. Rosie rubbed her hands against the misty kitchen window and looked out. The world seemed hushed and still, the empty fields dressed with a covering of snow, and icicles hung like silver spears from the window’s edge.
She turned with a shiver and Connie said, ‘Aye, it’s bonechilling cold, all right. They’ll all be glad of the stew I’ll have ready for them when they come in. Put new heart into them.’
‘Aye,’ Rosie said, rousing herself. ‘I’ll get some water in to wash the potatoes. They might be back soon.’
‘Are you all right, girl?’ Connie asked. ‘I can get it.’
‘Don’t fuss now!’ Rosie admonished. ‘I’ll not have you treat me like an invalid because I’m expecting.’
‘No danger of that,’ Connie said with a laugh. ‘You fetch in the water then, and I’ll make us a drink.’
Rosie picked up the galvanised bucket from beside the door and went out into the wintry afternoon. The skies were heavy, grey and snow-laden, and the bitter chill caught in her throat and made her teeth ache. She wished she’d thought to lift her coat from the peg. As soon as Rosie stepped out onto the slippery cobblestones her feet began to slither. Gingerly, she made her way forward, but didn’t notice the sheet of ice that had formed around the pump where some of the water had dribbled out and frozen solid. As she stepped onto it she felt one leg slide from beneath her.
In a panic, she fought to try and regain her balance, but as she did the other foot skimmed across the icy cobbles and she lost her footing completely. She fell awkwardly and clumsily, the bucket clattering beside her as her head slammed heavily against the ground.
Connie was beside her in seconds. ‘Oh dear God!’ she cried. ‘Are you all right?’
It was obvious Rosie was far from so. The very breath had been knocked from her body and she lay on the frozen yard and felt as if every bone had been shaken loose.
Dear God, Connie thought, if Rosie was to lose this child before Danny even knew he was about to become a father! That would be dreadful altogether. But then, she chided herself, there was no need to look on the black side of things: the girl had had a fright, that was bad enough, and anyone would be in pain after falling in the yard. A hot drink and bed, that was best.
She helped Rosie indoors, supporting much of her weight. The kettle had already begun to sing over the glowing turf and she sat her before the hearth.
‘You need tea with plenty of sugar to steady you after a shock like that,’ Connie said, pressing Rosie down gently in the armchair. ‘And then it’s bed for you.’
She filled the teapot and while it brewed she lifted two air bricks from the back of the fire with tongs and wrapped them in flannels. ‘I’ll put these in the bed to warm it for you,’ she told Rosie as she hurried from the room.
Rosie didn’t answer. She was feeling light-headed and muzzy, but her overriding fear was for the child she carried. She put her arm protectively on her stomach and groaned.
Connie heard her as she came back in and her heart contracted in pity, but one of them at least had to stay positive. ‘Come on,’ she said, handing Rosie a cup of tea, which she’d also laced with a drop of whisky. ‘Drink this while it’s hot.’
Rosie obediently took the drink, glad of its warmth for she felt chilled to the marrow, and Connie, aware of her trembling, gave the fire a poke to release some of the warmth. She wished Danny was there to fetch the doctor, for the whitefaced girl in front of her worried her half to death.
Rosie was too weary and sore to undress herself, so Connie gently removed the clothes from her as if she were a child and then slipped a white cambric nightgown over her head before helping her between the warmed sheets and tucking the blankets snugly around her.
Rosie gave a sigh of thankfulness to be lying in the semidark in a soft warm bed and Connie sat beside the bed, waiting until Rosie’s closed eyes and even breathing told her she was asleep before she left her.
The men came in, stamping their boots on the mat and bringing the cold of the fields in with them. ‘By, that smells good,’ Matt said. ‘You need something to stick to the ribs today.’
Connie scarcely heard her husband. Her eyes were only for her son. When she’d left Rosie’s side she’d rehearsed over and over how to tell Danny that his beloved wife had hurt herself and maybe the unborn child he knew nothing of yet would be lost because of it. ‘Where’s Rosie?’ Danny demanded, seeing the anxious look on his mother’s face.
‘She…she’s had a bit of an accident,’ Connie said. ‘She slipped in the yard. I’ve put her to bed. I thought it was best. She was asleep when I left her.’
Danny was across the room in three strides, but his mother’s hand was on his elbow before he opened the bedroom door. ‘Danny, wait!’ she said. ‘It’s best you know it all. Rosie is expecting a baby.’
The grim-set expression on Danny’s face changed to one of incredulity. ‘A baby?’ he repeated.
‘Aye,’ Connie said, and then, because she knew her son would rightly think he should have been told first, she went on. ‘She didn’t tell me until after she’d had the fall. She intended telling you today.’ That made Danny feel better and, when all was said and done, however he was told, his wife was expecting their first child. ‘Go easy now,’ Connie cautioned him. ‘Let her sleep while she’s able.’
Danny gave a mute nod and opened the door as quietly as he could and stood transfixed in the doorway. Rosie’s hair, released from its fastenings, was spread out on the pillow, her pinched face as white as the sheets she had tucked around her and her breathing so shallow that her chest barely moved. Danny turned an anguished face to his mother. ‘Oh, Ma. She looks…’
‘She looks as if she’s sleeping, which she is,’ Connie said firmly, giving her son’s arm a shake. ‘She needs a doctor, Danny. You’ll have go to the village and fetch out Doctor Casey.’
‘Aye, aye,’ Danny said, glad to be doing something practical at least.
Matt was beside his wife and son and looked in on the girl. ‘Do you want me along with you, son?’
‘No, I’ll be fine,’ Danny said. ‘I’ll ride in on Copper. He can go like the wind when he has a mind