The Grace Stories Page 13

  Beth moaned again.

  ‘Are you sick?’ Grace jumped to her feet, sending the bucket of new milk spilling across the ground.

  ‘Oh, Grace . . . it feels like a knife in my stomach!’ She fell to her knees on the milk-stained grass.

  ‘Oh, Beth . . . ’ Grace dropped down beside her mistress.

  Beth dug her fingers into the earth and drew her breath in pain.

  Grace looked at Beth’s stomach, so round and hard and full. ‘Beth, is it . . . could it be . . . ?’ She put her hand gently on Beth’s arm.

  ‘No – no, the baby isn’t due for weeks!’

  Grace saw the fear in Beth’s eyes. ‘But, Beth – could it be?’

  Beth was breathing hard. ‘I don’t know – I don’t know – maybe I was wrong . . . or maybe it’s early . . . ’ She gasped and gripped Grace’s arm. Her face was white and there was a sheen of sweat across her brow. Her fingernails bit into Grace’s skin. ‘Oh, Grace!’

  Grace felt her blood rush with fear. She didn’t know anything about how to have a baby – she’d never had a brother or a sister – and they were so far from everyone.

  She helped Beth to her feet.

  ‘Grace, can you come with me into the house? Maybe if I lie down, the pain will stop.’

  But Grace didn’t think it was going to stop. Once Ma Honeywell’s screaming and groaning started next door, there wasn’t a break until the baby was born. As Grace helped her mistress into the hut, she could feel her trembling. I wish Liza were here, Grace thought. Liza would know what to do.

  ‘Grace, can you – can you – make a bed for me here where you sleep – by the fire?’ Beth panted between her words.

  Grace unrolled her bedding and set it up for Beth, close to the hearth.

  ‘If I lie down and rest, this blasted pain will go away and the baby can wait for its father to come home.’

  ‘But Tom isn’t back for two more days!’

  ‘He’ll be back in time! Please, Grace, make the fire warm.’

  Grace pushed logs into the fire until the flames leapt high. Beth lay in the bed and groaned, her fists clenching above the blanket, then unclenching. Grace sat beside her mistress on the floor pressing a wet cloth to her forehead. Beth began to cry. Grace wished desperately that she could do something more to help her mistress. She felt useless.

  After what seemed like a very long time Grace had to go outside. It was so hot in the hut – so filled with Beth’s suffering and fear. Grace took in deep breaths of cool air. Was there someone who could help – somebody close enough? She tried to remember what Tom had said at the table the week before he left – something about a neighbour – a woman – not too far away. What was it? That she was capable and had experience nursing the sick? But Beth needed help now – it would take Grace a whole day to follow the East Trail to see if she could find her. It was no use!

  Beth called to her from inside the hut. ‘Grace? Grace, where are you? Are you there?’

  ‘I’m coming, Beth, I’m just getting more wood for the fire!’ In that instant, Glory whinnied, the sound carrying clearly from her field. Grace turned to go back inside. ‘Neigh-eigh-eigh!’ Glory whinnied again. It’s as if she’s calling me, Grace thought.

  Glory called once more. ‘Neigh-eigh-eigh!’

  Grace gasped. An idea took hold. She ran into the hut.

  Beth lay on her side with her eyes closed. Grace knelt beside her. ‘Beth, ma’am, I’m here.’ Beth’s eyes remained closed. She’s in another world, Grace thought, where there is nothing but pain.

  Grace filled a mug with water from the kettle on the stove and brought it to her mistress. ‘Can you drink, Beth?’ But Beth did not respond. Grace saw dark patches of sweat forming under her arms and down the front of her chest. She placed the wet cloth on Beth’s forehead.

  ‘Beth, I have to go, but I will be back very soon.’

  Beth opened her eyes and clutched Grace’s arm. ‘Please don’t leave me, Grace, please!’

  ‘But I must find help!’

  ‘There is no one to help. If I just rest with you here to take care of me, everything will be all right.’

  ‘No, Beth, the baby is coming. I have to go.’

  Another wave of pain gripped Beth. She writhed and groaned.

  ‘I’ll be back soon, Beth, please hold on until then – please hold on.’

  But Beth didn’t answer. There was nothing more Grace could do for her at the hut; she had to leave – there was no time to waste.

  GRACE rushed to the storage shed and grabbed Glory’s bridle from its hook. Then she ran to the field behind the house. When the mare saw Grace, she lifted her head and pricked her ears.

  Grace’s heart raced. She pulled up a handful of grass and held it out to the mare. Glory ate the grass from Grace’s open palm.

  ‘Glory,’ whispered Grace, running a hand across the horse’s broad chest and looking into her eyes. ‘Please help me.’

  Glory pressed her nose into the crook of Grace’s arm and lowered her head. ‘Thank you, Glory,’ whispered Grace, lifting the bridle over the horse’s ears just as she’d seen Tom do. She pressed the iron bit against Glory’s mouth and pushed it in as she fitted the headpiece over the mare’s ears.

  Next she buckled the throat lash under the horse’s cheek. Then, holding onto the reins, she bent down and unbuckled the hobbles from around Glory’s fetlocks. She led the mare to the fence, looping the reins over her head.

  Grace climbed to the second rung of the fence. Her legs were shaking and her chest felt as if it would burst.

  ‘Glory, please look after me.’ Grace grabbed onto Glory’s mane with both hands and climbed onto her back. Glory shifted uneasily from side to side. Grace felt her own body stiffen. She ran her shaking hand down Glory’s neck. Please look after me.

  Grace pulled the right rein and Glory turned her head and walked forward. ‘We need to take the East Trail, down by the creek. Quickly Glory, we have to hurry.’

  The mare began to jog and Grace jiggled awkwardly up and down on her back. She pulled hard on the reins, and Glory threw her head high in the air as if Grace had hurt her mouth.

  ‘I’m sorry, Glory, I don’t know how to do this!’ Grace continued to jiggle and bounce as she steered Glory to the creek. The trail led both ways along the stream. Grace didn’t know which direction to take – left or right.

  Panic twisted in her stomach. What was I thinking? she wondered. I’ve left my mistress all alone to have a baby and I don’t even know which way to go! Grace noticed that Glory was pulling her head towards the right. I wonder if Glory has carried Tom along this trail before? she thought. She decided that she had no choice but to trust the mare and go right.

  ‘Hurry, Glory, hurry,’ Grace clicked her tongue as she had heard the gentlemen riders do in London. Glory began to trot. Grace felt as though every part of her was being shaken and rattled by Glory’s movements. Each time she came down on the horse’s back she felt the breath being pushed out of her chest.

  Suddenly Glory swerved to avoid a fallen log in the path and Grace lost her balance. ‘Ahhh!’ She was thrown from the mare’s back, landing on her face in the dirt. She sat up, wiping mud from her nose and mouth. ‘Uch!’ When she looked at her hand she saw a smear of blood across her fingers. Her nose was bleeding. Grace felt like giving up. Here she was sitting on her bottom in the mud and she didn’t even know if she was going the right way.

  Glory nibbled at the grass beside Grace’s legs. Grace thought of Hannah. If Hannah were here, she would brush away the mud and the blood and ask that next time Grace fell, could she do a somersault on the way down please.

  Glory pushed her head against Grace’s shoulder. Grace stood up, gave her nose another wipe with her skirt and led the mare close to the fallen log. Climbing to its highest end and holding on to Glory’s mane, she hauled her shaking body back on to the horse.

  This time she gripped the reins even tighter than before, but Glory threw her head up and down even
more wildly. Grace squeezed her legs against Glory’s sides. ‘Glory, please go as fast as you can!’

  Glory broke into a canter. Grace slid stiffly up and down the mare’s back, feeling that at any second she would fall again. She was so frightened she felt as if her blood had stopped flowing.

  The horse threw her head so high and pulled so hard that the reins slipped through Grace’s sweating hands and she had to hold onto the mane instead. As the reins hung slack against Glory’s neck, Grace could see that the mare stopped throwing her head around and her gait grew steadier. Grace leaned forward and picked up the reins again, but this time she didn’t pull them so tight.

  She allowed her body to loosen and for the first time she was aware of the horse’s warm flesh through her dress, alive and reassuring.

  Grace felt calmer. She stopped sliding about so much and began to breathe. The mare’s gait was as steady and rhythmical as a song. We are keeping the same time, Glory, Grace thought, as she moved with the horse. Even though Grace wished, with her whole heart, that Beth was not alone and suffering, as she cantered along the track in the afternoon light, Grace felt free.

  The trail twisted and turned. Grace ducked her head from low-hanging branches, leaning down against Glory’s shoulders. ‘Faster, Glory, faster!’ Grace leaned forward and the mare began to gallop. Grace could see Glory’s legs thundering before her along the trail. She smelled horse and bush. Branches whipped at her face, a cold wind blew around her head and the sound of the mare’s pounding hooves filled the air. Grace barely noticed the trees ripping and tearing at her dress, her trembling cold body or the steam rising from Glory’s damp hide. She only knew she had to keep going, for Beth, for the baby.

  The trail left the creek, turning uphill, before veering down again, pitted with stones and fallen branches. Many times Grace thought the track had ended, but then it would appear again, snaking through the dark, rough earth.

  At last it opened out into a field. Grace could hardly believe her eyes when she saw a hut a little like Tom and Beth’s, surrounded by cleared land. Smoke rose out of the hut’s bark chimney. Smoke! Somebody was home – somebody who might be able to help.

  Grace thought she might cry with relief. Glory had chosen the best path and Grace had been right to trust her. The mare slowed to a walk as she approached the hut. Grace slipped from the horse, her legs buckling so that she fell in a heap to the ground. Glory snorted. A dog barked and strained at his rope. Grace tried to get up but her legs gave way again.

  Then someone came out of the hut.

  GRACE felt choked and when she tried to call out, her lips were too cold. Her face was frozen. She was shaking. She looked up and straight into the face of . . . Liza.

  Liza!

  ‘Grace!’ Liza looked as shocked as Grace felt.

  Grace opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

  ‘Grace? Is it you?’

  Grace could only gape and nod.

  Liza turned back to the hut. ‘Hannah! It’s Grace! Grace has come to us!’ she called.

  Grace wondered if she was dreaming.

  Hannah ran out the front door of the house towards her. ‘Grace! Grace!’

  Grace struggled to speak, her words caught in her tears.

  Hannah cried, too, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her friend. ‘Grace! Grace!’ The girls clung to each other.

  After a moment, Liza gently took Grace’s hands. ‘Grace, dear girl, it’s really you. Are you all right?’ She touched Grace’s bloodied cheek. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘It’s nothing. Please Liza . . . Liza . . . ’

  Liza turned to her daughter. ‘Hannah, stop your crying. What is it, Grace?’

  Grace gripped Liza’s hands. ‘My mistress is . . . she’s having a baby! Help me, Liza!’

  Liza pulled her from the ground. ‘Slow down, child – your mistress? Who is your mistress?’

  ‘I – I – my mistress, Beth . . . we don’t live far from here . . . she’s having a baby and I don’t know what to do . . . she’s in terrible pain . . . I’m afraid she might die!’

  Hannah turned to her mother. ‘The people who live along the East Trail, Mama! The Whitbys, isn’t that what William said? Beth and Tom Whitby, and they’ve just chosen a servant – it must be our Grace!’

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s right,’ said Grace, ‘and Tom is away clearing land. The baby is coming early and Beth isn’t ready!’

  ‘Is someone with her now?’ Liza asked.

  Grace burst into tears all over again. ‘No, she is all alone. I have left my mistress all alone!’

  ‘Grace, calm down! I’ll come and help her. Now tell me, Grace, this is very important – were there breaks between your mistress’s pain, can you recall? Did she rest between the waves of pain?’ asked Liza.

  ‘Yes, I think so – I’m not sure – it was hurting her something awful!’

  Liza turned to her daughter. ‘Hannah, go and bring Grace something to eat and drink. Make sure you’re quick about it. And give her your coat, too. I don’t know how you made it all the way here on that bloomin’ great horse without a saddle. You must be a natural, Grace.’

  ‘Glory is a good horse. She did all the work.’ Grace felt calmer now; she knew that Liza would take care of things.

  Liza turned back to Grace. ‘William, my new husband, is away working, too, so we’ll have to do this alone. I’m going to put a saddle on Hilary, our workhorse, and one on yours, too, Grace, and then we will go. We’ll have to hurry.’ Liza looked up at the sky. ‘It looks like rain is coming.’

  HANNAH hugged Grace hard, her cheek, wet with tears, pressing against Grace’s own. ‘You are brave, Princess Grace,’ she whispered as she helped her up onto the saddle on Glory’s back. ‘And a good rider, too. I don’t know how you did it.’

  ‘I did it because I had to,’ Grace answered, pulling her friend’s coat tightly around her shoulders.

  ‘I’ll see you again soon, Grace. Now that I know where you are, I will come and find you.’ Glory began to move off. Hannah squeezed Grace’s hand.

  ‘Come on, Grace.’ Liza picked up the reins of her huge bay workhorse, turning her towards the track, her feathered hooves leaving deep impressions behind her in the mud. ‘Your horse knows the way better than mine. I will follow. We must take care. Will said the spring rains can be very heavy.’

  ‘Goodbye, Hannah!’ Grace leaned forward and Glory broke into a canter. Grace gripped onto the rise at the front of the saddle and held on firmly with her legs. Glory knows we’re heading for home, she thought.

  Grace and Liza galloped along the track, the branches across the trail snatching at their arms and legs. It began to rain. Mud splattered up from beneath Glory’s hooves, hitting Grace’s cheeks and arms. She couldn’t see ahead of her for the rain in her eyes. The trail seemed to go and on.

  Finally it came to the creek and Grace knew Wattle Park was not much further. She squeezed her legs harder against Glory. ‘As fast as you can, girl!’ Glory galloped even faster, with Hilary close behind, as if even the horses knew Beth was in danger.

  At last the house came into view. Glory charged towards the fence then came to a sudden halt, sending Grace flying. She landed hard on her bottom beside Glory’s front legs.

  ‘Grace, are you all right?’ Liza clambered down from Hilary, out of breath.

  ‘Yes.’ Grace pulled herself unsteadily to her feet. ‘I didn’t expect her to stop so suddenly!’ As Grace turned to pat the mare, she saw a long gash down Glory’s side, just below where the saddle had been. The cut was bleeding. Grace was horrified. Glory’s sides heaved as the steam rose from her hide.

  ‘There’s no time to worry about her now,’ said Liza. ‘Quickly, Grace, unsaddle the horses and put them in the field, then come inside.’

  Oh, Glory . . . poor Glory . . . Tom will never forgive me, Grace thought, as her numb, shaking fingers fumbled at the buckles on the saddles. That gash must have been made by a sharp branch on the
trail. Grace felt sick with guilt and worry.

  She ran, drenched, inside the hut. Beth lay as Grace had left her, eyes closed. When Grace saw her chest rising and falling with her breath, she was flooded with relief. ‘Oh, Beth! Beth! I am back!’ She ran to her mistress’s side.

  Liza was lighting the slush lamps. ‘Quick, Grace, bring in wood and get the fire going nice and hot, and then boil some water. Quick! We need to get the hut ready before we’re in darkness.’ Liza took clean sheets and towels from the shelf and went over to Beth. She spoke to her calmly and softly, as though there was no danger and Beth was completely safe. Liza’s comforting voice made Grace feel calmer, too.

  ‘Everything will be fine now, Beth. My name is Liza and I’m here to help you have your baby.’

  Beth opened her eyes wide and cried out as though a great wave of pain was bearing down on her. Grace put a large pot of water on the stove as Liza had told her.

  Liza held Beth’s hand until the pain passed. ‘Grace, scrub your hands with soap and then come and sit by Beth’s head. Beth, can you speak to me? Are you all right?’

  Beth was panting. ‘Yes – yes . . . is the baby coming?’

  Liza put a hand gently to Beth’s forehead. ‘Yes, the baby’s coming. We must work hard together to bring the baby out.’

  Grace washed her hands and then came to Beth. Beth grabbed her arm.

  ‘Oh, Grace, I thought you’d left me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Beth, but I had to get help.’

  ‘And I’m glad – though I don’t know how you did it.’ She cried out in pain again, squeezing Grace’ s hand so hard that Grace thought she might break it.

  Liza laid out the towels and cloths under Beth and helped her to take off her dress and put her nightgown over her shoulders. Then she sat on the floor at the end of the bed. Grace stayed beside Beth’s head, giving her sips of water and wiping the sweat from her brow.

  ‘You must push now, Beth, push as hard as you can,’ said Liza.