by Linda Finlay
‘There’s plenty of time for that. I’m only fifteen, Fanny,’ she said, shocked at such a thought.
‘But I am married and I am only a few years older than you,’ Fanny said.
Rowan looked at her in surprise. She’d never given any thought to the woman’s age. Now she could see she was years younger than her father.
‘You must leave me to run things around here. You go out and enjoy yourself whenever you want,’ her stepmother said magnanimously.
‘Thank you, but at the moment I’m happy staying indoors, especially in this weather,’ she quipped. Then sensing she wasn’t giving the woman the answers she wanted, she added, ‘Of course I’ll be happy to leave the cooking and housekeeping to you. You must have more experience than I do.’
Fanny smiled, acknowledging the perceived compliment. ‘Why, of course, dear,’ she said before returning to her former subject. ‘It beats me how a young thing like you passes the time in such a remote place.’
At that moment the door clattered open and they looked up to see Sab stamping the snow off his boots. ‘Gosh, it’s cold out there. I’ve cleaned up these big boys, so where do you want them?’ he asked, holding aloft the two skinned rabbits.
Fanny looked horrified, then screamed so loudly, Magic bolted from her hiding place under the table and fled up the stairs.
‘They’re dead rabbits, take them away,’ she gasped, frantically flapping her hands.
‘Would you prefer to cook them live, then?’ Sab asked, moving closer and swinging them in front of Fanny’s face.
Her stepmother screamed again, then collapsed back in her seat, covering her face with her hands. Rowan bit her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud. Some effective cook and housekeeper she was going to be. Well, she’d told Rowan to leave things up to her, so she would.
CHAPTER 8
Hastily gathering up her mending and placing it on the dresser, Rowan turned to Sab. ‘I think we’d better make ourselves scarce, don’t you?’ she whispered. ‘I’ll go and draw some water to wash the dishes.’
‘And I’d best remove these,’ he said, picking up the rabbits. But before they could escape, the door clattered open again and Edward came rushing in, snowflakes fluttering in his wake.
‘What’s wrong? I heard a scream,’ he asked, glancing from the skinned animals in Sab’s hand to Fanny, who was now wailing louder than ever. ‘Ah,’ he said, immediately taking in the situation. ‘Best take those back outside, lad,’ and he hurried over to his new wife.
Quickly doing as they’d been bid, Sab and Rowan fled to the scullery. Closing the door behind them, they dissolved into hysterics.
‘Did you see her face?’ Rowan gulped, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘That was really naughty, but the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages.’
‘Well, it was one I owed her,’ Sab chuckled, then frowned. ‘You two were looking mighty cosy when I came in. What was going on?’
‘Don’t look like that, Sab. Fanny said she wanted us to get to know one another, whilst you and Father were busy outside. She asked me so many questions.’
‘Oh, like what?’
‘What goes on around here, how often I go out, and then she asked if I was courting,’ she giggled.
Sab’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. You be on your guard, Rowan. I trust that one as far as those dead rabbits can jump.’ He nodded towards the inert bodies on the drainer.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Her mood’s too changeable for my liking. One minute she’s all smiley and friendly, the next she’s growling and hostile, especially if the answers aren’t to her liking.’
‘Ah, there you are, you two,’ Edward said, pushing open the door. They jumped guiltily, waiting for the telling-off they expected. However, he just stood there shaking his head.
‘Fanny’s taken herself off to bed with a megrim. I said you’d prepare one of your curatives, Rowan, but that just made her more agitated.’ His brow furrowed. ‘It appears we are archaic, the farmhouse is antiquated and the animals antediluvian.’
‘Ante what?’ Sab asked.
‘Don’t even ask,’ Edward said, his hand automatically going to stroke his beard and making contact with his sore chin instead. He grimaced, saying, ‘All I know is she wasn’t like this when we were courting.’
‘What was she like, Father?’ Rowan asked. ‘We never got to know her before the wedding.’
‘She was all sweetness and kind of, well, womanly,’ he said, his expression softening as he remembered. Sab glanced at Rowan and raised his eyebrows knowingly. ‘Don’t worry, lad, you have these pleasures still to come,’ Edward said, grinning.
‘Not me, Uncle. I’ll be steering clear of women if that’s what they’re like. Apart from you, of course,’ he said, turning to Rowan.
‘Well, we can’t stand here idling the day away. Old Davey’s back with the sheep. He’s driving them into the barn and needs your help, Sab.’
‘Yes, Uncle.’ Sab began buttoning his jacket.
Edward turned to Rowan. ‘I know you said you were going to leave the cooking to Fanny, but it’s still snowing a storm and we’ll need a good hot meal tonight, Rowan. Can you turn those into a stew?’ he said, pointing to the rabbits.
‘Of course, Father,’ she answered, eager to appease him.
‘Probably be best if you call it meat stew when you serve up, though. That’s if Fanny’s fit enough to join us, of course,’ he added, pulling his cap down over his ears as he went outside.
‘Problems in paradise already?’ Sab whispered, rubbing his hands gleefully before following Edward outside.
Rowan set about her task, adding onions, turnips and carrots to the pot with the rabbits, for she guessed the shepherd would be staying overnight and would need feeding, too.
She was just hitching the pot of stew onto the arm over the fire when Davey hurried in cradling two of the tiniest lambs she’d ever seen. Knowing from experience that every second counted, she hurried over to the chest and pulled out an old horse blanket. As the shepherd began rubbing the barely breathing bodies with brisk, yet surprisingly tender strokes, Rowan set milk to warm. Moments later, the first one gave a weak, pitiful bleat and Davey turned to Rowan.
‘That were close,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll leave these two in your capable care, girl. Happen they could use an extra special charm, seeing as they’re so frail, like.’
‘Whatever is going on?’ Fanny demanded, having crept up behind them unheard. ‘What are those?’ she demanded, sniffing at the tiny bodies.
‘ ’Tis a farmhouse, missus, and these here are orphan lambs I’ve brought indoors so that Rowan can work her magic. It’ll be their only chance of surviving, having just lost their mother,’ Davey grunted, staring back at her.
Fanny sniffed, glaring down at his frayed trousers and dirty boots.
‘Well, you workers are paid to sort out the animals, aren’t you?’ she asked.
Davey’s eyes darkened and Rowan thought he was going to explode, but before he could say anything, a dun-brown collie nudged the door open with its grizzled nose.
‘Get out,’ Fanny hissed, stamping her feet and waving her hands at the dog.
‘No need to vent your spleen on my poor creature, missus. We was just going anyhow,’ Davey said, heading towards the door. Then he stopped in front of Fanny and gave her a piercing stare. ‘Don’t I know you?’ he asked.
‘I wouldn’t think so. I’m not from around here,’ she answered, turning away.
‘Never forgets a face, doesn’t old Davey,’ he said, sniffing the air. ‘Nor a smell,’ he muttered. ‘Shouts if you need a hand, young Rowan.’
‘You could ask Sab to bring in more wood when he comes,’ she replied, noticing the stack by the grate had got low. ‘I’ll need to keep a good fire going all night for these little ones,’ she called after his retreating back.
Her stepmother stood there looking flustered, but quickly turned away when she noticed Rowan staring at her.<
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‘You’d better get this mess cleaned up, my girl,’ she ordered, sweeping into the parlour and slamming the door behind her.
Rowan bent over the lambs, her curtain of copper curls adding warmth to their trembling bodies. What were a few wisps of straw on the floor compared to saving these little darlings? Had the woman no heart? Didn’t she understand the livestock were her father’s living, the means by which they all lived?
Rowan cradled her charges closer, patiently coaxing them to take the milk drop by drop. It took all her powers of persuasion, but eventually she succeeded in getting them to take the minutest amount. Even that exhausted them and as they collapsed against the blanket, she gently tucked it around them, hoping they’d gain strength in sleep. Remembering Davey’s words, she kneeled beside them and, placing a finger on each tiny head, whispered:
Know me as your healer,
Bestowed with blessed power,
That from these fingertips will flow
The strength to thrive and grow.
So mote it be.
As energy pulsated from her tingling fingertips to the sleeping forms, she kissed each faintly beating heart in turn. Then staring deep into the heart of the flames she offered up her blessings.
‘What on earth are you doing, Rowan?’ Fanny asked, suddenly appearing by her side.
Startled out of her trance, she stared up into her stepmother’s grey pebble eyes. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she sighed.
‘I certainly don’t understand you muttering nonsense into the fire like that. Whatever next?’ Fanny asked, shaking her head. ‘It’s absolutely freezing in that parlour,’ she declared, sinking into a chair beside the lambs, heedless of their sleeping bodies. She wrinkled her nose. ‘How long do those things have to stay in here?’
‘Until they are strong enough to survive in the barn with the others,’ Rowan answered.
‘Well, I’ve never seen anything like it. Animals in my living room, indeed! Your father never told me I’d have to put up with this kind of thing. Of course, he was different before we were married,’ she said, glaring at Rowan as though it were her fault. She was just about to say her father had said something similar about her, when the door clattered open and Sab struggled in with an armful of wood, bringing with him a blast of cold air. Fanny shivered.
‘Still snowing a storm out there and old Davey reckons it’ll freeze solid by morning. Says he’ll sleep in the barn in case any of the sheep need a hand,’ he said, throwing down his load beside the fireplace. He sniffed the aroma rising from the pot appreciatively. ‘That smells right good, Rowan. Good job you can prepare a nice stew,’ he said, staring pointedly at Fanny.
‘Rowan won’t have to worry about that for much longer,’ she said loftily. ‘You two are not the only ones who’ve been busy.’ Sab raised his eyebrows in disbelief, but Fanny ignored him. ‘I have been preparing a list of the hired help we shall require, along with things necessary to bring this place up to a habitable standard.’ She got to her feet, looking around her with disdain. ‘It’s perishing in that parlour so bring that wood through and get a fire lit, Sab.’
‘The lambs …’ he began, but he was talking to her retreating back. Rowan saw the tic under his right cheek begin to throb, a sure sign he was furious. But as he stared down at the sleeping lambs, his expression softened. ‘Think we’ll see to you first, little uns,’ he said, throwing wood onto the dwindling fire and poking away until it burst into a blaze. Wiping his hand on his trousers, he got to his feet. ‘Hired help? Uncle Ted can’t afford that,’ he muttered.
‘I know,’ Rowan said. ‘And, let’s face it, we’ve always managed before.’
‘Sab, I said immediately,’ Fanny shouted.
‘Blooming woman, doesn’t she ever do anything for herself?’ he asked, but duly collected up an armful of wood. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring in some more after I’ve seen to the livestock. I’ll sleep in here and take a turn tending to these tonight.’
‘Are you sure, Sab?’ Rowan asked.
‘Yes, the warmth will make a nice change after dealing with frosty Fanny,’ he said, grinning.
Dinner was a quiet affair. The men, hungry after their busy day, ate ravenously but were too tired to make conversation. Rowan, who’d been careful to announce it as meat stew, watched as Fanny cleared her plate in record time. Tomorrow she would let her stepmother see to their meals and see how she fared.
‘That was a lovely meal, Rowan. Just what we need in this bitterly cold weather,’ her father said, grinning affectionately at her.
She smiled back and then saw Fanny stiffen.
‘All that cavorting around and muttering for the sun to shine didn’t work, did it?’ she scoffed.
‘Sorry?’ Rowan said, looking perplexed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You told me you were dancing under a full moon to speed up the summer,’ her stepmother insisted.
‘I think she means Imbolc,’ Sab said, laughing.
‘That’s not what it’s about or how it works, Fanny,’ Rowan began, but her stepmother had lost interest and was studying her list.
‘Talking of the moon reminds me, Uncle. Do you think the snow will clear in time for us to sow the crops on the next quarter?’
‘Realistically, I think we’ll see at least another moon cycle round before then, Sab.’
‘All this talk of the moon and cycles is stupid. Why can’t you just go out and plant the crops?’ Fanny asked impatiently.
Her husband got to his feet, yawning. ‘It’s been a long day so let’s go up the wooden hill, my dear.’
‘Oh, grow up, Edward. We are adults and we go up to bed, but not yet,’ she said, when he looked at her hopefully. ‘I haven’t gone through my list yet.’
‘What list?’ he asked, slumping back in his seat.
‘You’re not the only one who has been busy, Edward. I have spent the afternoon meticulously writing down what needs to be done to make this place habitable. Now as I was saying yesterday …’
‘Excuse me, missus. I’ll just check on those wee ones and then be off to me bed in the barn,’ Davey said, scraping back his chair. ‘That were a nice bit of stew, my dear,’ he added, turning to Rowan. ‘I see you enjoyed your rabbit, missus,’ he said, nodding to Fanny’s empty plate.
‘Rabbit?’ she said, narrowing her eyes.
‘Yes, rabbit, missus. That’s what we eat around here, and grateful for it we are, too. There are those upcountry who are quite literally starving,’ he said gravely.
Fanny opened her mouth to protest.
‘I’ll see to the lambs, Davey,’ Rowan said quickly, not wishing for any more confrontation. ‘You must be tired after driving the sheep down from the hills.’
‘Well, really. Is nobody going to listen to the list I’ve been busy making?’ Fanny asked, regaining her composure.
Davey stood in the doorway shaking his head. ‘In my experience, there’s those who write about the things that need doing and those who actually get on and do them. Night, all. I’ll be in the barn with the sheep if you needs help with them little uns, Rowan.’
‘Well, how rude,’ spluttered Fanny. ‘And what’s so important about a few shaggy sheep anyway?’
‘They bring in a fair proportion of our income,’ Edward said wearily.
‘Edward, my dear, why ever didn’t you say?’ asked Fanny, her voice suddenly soft as butter. ‘So how do you turn them into money, then?’
‘Look, this bad weather means the animals need more tending, so I’ll need to be up early. Do let’s go to bed, my dear. We can discuss it in the morning,’ Edward said, stifling another yawn.
Just then Sab, who’d followed Davey outside, came in staggering under yet another load of wood.
‘Good, you can take that upstairs and light a fire up in our bedroom,’ Fanny said. ‘It’s perishing up there.’
Sab looked at Edward. ‘It’s still snowing and the wood pile’s already getting low, Uncle.’ Reaching across the table,
Edward took Fanny’s hand.
‘Look, my love, you know I want you to be happy here but we just cannot keep lighting extra fires. This time of year, we all gather around the one in here and when we go to our beds, we hop under the covers, quick as we can,’ he explained.
‘If only you’d listen to me, Edward,’ said Fanny, waving her list in the air. ‘I have the very solution.’
‘We cannot afford to buy in more wood,’ he said, shaking his head. But Fanny was not to be deterred.
‘Yesterday, I asked Sab to move the bed so that we can see right down the valley.’
‘Yes, I know, and the wind blew over me something chronic all night long,’ Edward grunted.
‘It occurred to me that if you cut down those old trees beyond the field, we would be able to see right down to the sea. And …’ she paused, dramatically, ‘… it would mean we’d have a good stock of wood for any numbers of fires.’
The room fell silent, apart from the crackling of the fire. Rowan and Sab exchanged horrified looks.
‘But you can’t chop down our hangy downs,’ Rowan protested.
‘Hangy downs? What are you talking about, girl? They’re merely old trees,’ Fanny snorted.
‘Those old trees happen to be our orchard, Fanny, and the hangy downs are the finest apples in the West Country,’ Edward said. ‘Come on, it’s definitely time we went to bed,’ he insisted, getting to his feet.
As they made their way upstairs, Rowan and Sab burst out laughing for the second time that day.
‘She’s priceless,’ Rowan said, shaking her head.
‘Oh, am I indeed?’ Fanny hissed as she peered over the banister.
‘Come along, my dear,’ Edward said wearily.
‘Just coming,’ Fanny called in her syrupy voice. ‘I was just telling Rowan that we shall have another nice mother-and-daughter chat tomorrow,’ she said.
Looking up, Rowan saw the malicious gleam in her stepmother’s eye and her heart sank. Not if she could help it, she thought. Tomorrow, she would busy herself in the dairy all day. Heaven knew, there was enough to do and braving the bitter cold would be infinitely preferable to being cooped up in the same room as her stepmother.