by Lorin Grace
Sarah continued to watch the street. A few children played over on the green, but none of them would write a note. Tim’s touch at her elbow startled her.
“Are you listening?”
“I’m sorry. I just—” Sarah shrugged, unwilling either to lie or disclose her thoughts.
“Dr. Morton thinks it would be best if Amity moves in here the last couple weeks before her confinement. Do you think it would work with Emma?”
“Maybe. Emma seems to stay in the present when Amity is around. At least she has the last two times. Thomas Jr. is asking his sister-in-law to come help with Emma. If she comes, we will double up rooms, but it could work. It would be one more person for Amity to get accustomed to, but she is already acknowledging you after only one day.”
Tim straightened his coat. “You know I do charm all the ladies.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Go try your charms elsewhere. I need to get back in case Emma … I don’t want her to frighten Amity.”
“See you tomorrow.” Tim jogged down the steps and to his little carriage.
Sarah looked up and down the street once more. Hopefully her letter writer hadn’t been watching.
Tim wondered what had distracted Sarah. Mrs. Wilson had been in very good humor and even recognized him, though that could change in a moment. However, Sarah hadn’t been looking at the house. She had been studying the street. Perhaps she did not wish to be seen with him. She had been rather abrupt after church yesterday.
He turned the corner to find Miss Page and Miss Brooks walking with their heads together. They waved him down.
“Oh, Doctor, we saw you in front of Widow Wilson’s. Is she well? We worry about her so.” Miss Page put her hand on the side of his carriage.
“I do not discuss my patients with anyone other than their families. If you wish to inquire about Mrs. Wilson’s health, you will need to do so in person.”
Miss Page blinked a couple of times. “Oh, that is good of you. Doctors shouldn’t spread gossip. There is to be a men’s choral concert across the river on Wednesday. Will you be attending?”
Miss Brooks shifted. Tim thought she might be trying to step on her friend’s toes. Good for her. “I feel it is my duty to stay on the north side of the river while I see to Dr. Morton’s patients. However, I am sure you will enjoy it.”
“Oh.” Miss Page looked at Miss Brooks to come to her rescue.
Miss Brooks obliged. “We must bid you good day, then. No doubt you are needed elsewhere. We must hurry off ourselves.” She pulled Miss Page back up to the walkway.
Tim set his horse to a trot. He would need to remember to go around the other way when he came to Sarah’s so as not to pass the boardinghouse. He didn’t want to hurt one of his sister’s friends with his rejection but feared he must soon make his preferences known.
Fifteen
Why does the doctor visit so often?
Mrs. Wilson seems to be healthy.
What would it do to her heart if she knew about her son?
But maybe she already does . . .
Would that make her complicit?
Find another doctor.
Three days since the last note. Sarah studied the street. Whoever wrote the note was in a position to see Tim stopping by frequently. He brought his bag each time, so at least his visits looked medical.
Sarah slipped up to her room and added the notes to the others.
Mrs. Morton arrived just after nine, bringing a frosted cake for the noon meal. Sarah set a chicken to boil over the fire.
In preparation for the meal, Amity had agreed to a bath and having her hair washed. Sarah wasn’t sure how Emma had coaxed her into such a thing, but it would allow the midwives to check the progress of the unwitting mother.
Sarah added more hot water to the tub they’d set up in Emma’s room. Mrs. Morton followed with a bucket of cold water.
“N-no her! N-o h-her!”
Mrs. Morton quickly retreated to the kitchen.
Sarah helped Amity remove her boots, but once Amity stood in only her shift, she shooed Sarah away, too. Unwilling to leave Emma alone, Sarah pretended to straighten the room, dusting Emma’s perfectly clean dressing table and watching Amity in the mirror.
Emma helped with the bath, washing Amity’s hair.
As Amity stood to dry off, the baby kicked, stretching the girl’s taut belly. Eyes wide, Amity touched her abdomen. “W-wrong. Fat. M-move.”
Emma placed her hand where a foot pushed out. “This baby will be here mid-July.”
“B-baby?” Amity tilted her head. “N-no, b-baby! Not Ma-ma!” She pushed Emma away. Emma lost her footing and fell against the bed.
Amity wrapped her arms around herself and wailed.
Sarah grabbed a quilt and wrapped it gently around the girl. “Mrs. Morton!”
Mrs. Morton rushed into the room.
Amity screamed and twisted out of Sarah’s embrace and dashed for the door. Sarah made to follow but looked back at Mrs. Morton first. “Help Emma!”
As she turned back around, the screaming stopped.
Tim stood just inside the doorway and was holding the unconscious girl, the quilt pooled at their feet. His face was a color of scarlet not often seen on a male. “She’s fainted.”
Sarah hurried to wrap the quilt around Amity and said, “Bring her into Emma’s room.”
There, they found Emma sitting on her bed. “I’m right as rain. Now let me up!”
Mrs. Morton looked from Sarah to the doctor.
Sarah hurried to Emma’s side. “Are you hurt?”
“Of course not. Can’t raise a pack of boys without getting pushed now and then.”
Sarah assisted Emma to her feet. “Perhaps if you take Mrs. Morton and Dr. Dawes to the parlor, I can get Amity dressed before she wakes up.”
Tim shook his head “I’ll help you.”
“That isn’t proper.”
“As a doctor, I assure you I won’t do anything improper, but she is bigger than you, and if she were to wake up . . .”
Sarah nodded her agreement and retrieved Amity’s shift from where she had hung it over the back of a chair.
“It looks like Mrs. Wilson was correct in her estimation of the pregnancy.” Tim laid his hand on Amity’s belly. “This one is active. He must have liked the bath better than his mother.”
“Her mother.”
“You think it is a girl?”
Sarah pulled the shift down to Amity’s knees and started with the single petticoat. “Maybe.”
“What happened?”
“Emma forgot she couldn’t talk about the baby. Amity didn’t take the news well. Can you lift her a little?”
They worked in silence for a moment, Sarah watching how gently Tim handled the girl. Every touch was professional and kind. Doctoring suited him. The thoughts swirling around Sarah’s head came out unbidden. “You know more about expectant women than I thought you would.”
Tim swallowed. Of course he did. There were more to treat than just the dying men on the front. “I am familiar with the process.”
The spot between Sarah’s brow furrowed. “I suppose there were not too many midwives around the camps.”
He nodded. “Most people blamed the women, but it was the men too. I think Reverend Woods didn’t address that as much as he should have in some of his sermons. I have no idea what Reverend Palmer’s view is, but I wish everyone would just learn to live the sixth commandment. Then things like this wouldn’t happen.”
“It isn’t Amity’s fault.” Sarah dropped the stocking she held.
“I didn’t say it was. I do not blame the women who suffer because a man has taken advantage of them. But those women who are willing? I harbor equal disdain for them as I do the men
.”
Sarah buttoned the cuffs of Amity’s dress. “Come now, you know a good portion of the women who marry are in the family way. Are you telling me you condemn them?”
He felt the conversation slipping into places as slippery as axle grease. “No, but I don’t think a woman should let even her fiancé take liberties. That is why the Commonwealth has kept the fornication fine.”
Sarah made a funny sound in her throat as she tied Amity’s shoes. “I think she is coming around. You had better leave.”
Tim took her advice but didn’t shut the door. He knew most men his age didn’t agree with his strict moral code, but he had always assumed most good Christian women did. What had he said to upset Sarah? Surely she didn’t think he placed any responsibility on Amity. He replayed the conversation and was left feeling confused.
Low murmurs came from both the parlor and the bedroom. He peeked into the bedroom to see Sarah with her arm around Amity. He moved to the parlor, figuring it was best to leave before Amity realized he had been there.
Amity kept rubbing her belly. “B-baby?” she asked repeatedly.
Sarah confirmed her answer each time, thankful Amity didn’t ask the question everyone else would.
Amity stood up and took Sarah’s hand, pulling her up, too. “T-tell Da.” Without releasing Sarah’s hand, Amity headed for the front door.
“One moment, Amity. We need our wraps. It is cold today.” Sarah took a moment to stick her head into the parlor. “She wants me to go with her to tell her father.”
Mrs. Morton nodded. “I’ll let Dr. Dawes know where you went. Stay away from the docks.” She slipped out the door.
Sarah understood. Amity’s news was best shared in private.
Emma shuffled out of the parlor. “Why, dear, your hair is still dripping. Let Sarah braid it before you go out.” Emma herded them back into her bedroom and directed Amity to sit at her table.
“Tell-l D-da.”
“Yes, sweetheart, we will, but let’s get your hair all pretty before we do.” Sarah used Emma’s brush and made a hasty braid.
As soon as she stepped outside, Sarah wished she had dried Amity’s hair completely. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees since dawn. The closer they got to the river, the more Sarah felt like running back for her pelisse as her shawl did little to keep out the chill.
Somehow it was fitting the weather had turned upside down today too.
Tim slowed the buggy to a stop in front of the rundown building. He hoped Sarah had only gone as far as the Barns’s small apartment. They had just reached the door when Amity burst out, dragging Sarah behind her.
“Where are you going?” Tim hopped down, unsure how to stop them from going to the docks.
“F-find Da.”
“It is awfully chilly out here. Why don’t you let me go fetch him and you stay in the apartment?”
“The doctor has a very good idea. With his buggy, he can go so much faster than we can.” Sarah tried to put her arm around Amity, but the girl shrugged her off.
Amity pointed her finger at the center of Tim’s chest. “G-go fin-nd Da.”
“I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
He looked back to be sure Amity and Sarah had entered the building.
Driving along the docks, Tim occasionally stopped to ask if anyone had seen Mr. Barns. After three false leads, he found the man supervising the unloading of several barrels from one of his late stepfather’s ships.
“Mr. Barns! Mr. Barns!”
“Hey, Barny, boss man’s brother wants ya!”
Mr. Barns hurried over to Tim’s buggy. “If it’s Amity, make ’em think it’s ship business.”
“I’ve been asked to fetch you. Foreman, he’ll be back soon. You are not to dock his pay!” It was probably going too far, but Mr. Barns needed all of his daily wages. He would pay it out of his own pocket if Ichabod had an issue with what he had done. Tim turned the buggy and set the horse to a trot.
“What is wrong with my girl?”
“She wants to tell you. She realized she is having a baby. She brought Miss Marden with her.” They stopped in front of the apartment building, and Tim ran up the stairs after Mr. Barns.
Amity greeted her father with a hug. “B-baby.” She pointed to her rounded belly.
Mr. Barns pulled her back into his arms. “I know, my girl. I know.”
Amity pulled away and studied her father. Reaching up, she wiped a tear from his face, her head tilted. Tim had come to recognize the gesture. Amity did it often when she pondered. “S-sad?”
To his credit, Mr. Barns lied. When Amity took his hand and laid it on her belly, she turned to Sarah with a perplexed look. “G-gone?”
Sarah came over and laid her hand next to Mr. Barns’s. “No, the baby is sleeping. Sometimes babies sleep. Then when you eat something or you want to sleep, they wake up and move again.”
Amity nodded, then yawned. “I sleep-p t-too.” She walked over to the corner and curled up on a little cot.
Tim and Sarah followed Mr. Barns out of the apartment.
“Should I stay with her?” asked Sarah.
“No, my girl be fine. I need to get back to work before they figure out I didn’t go see your brother. I don’t like lying.”
“Then let me take you to the office. I’ll tell my brother I needed you, and then you will have talked with him.”
“What if he cuts me pay?”
“I’ll cover it.” Tim turned to Sarah. “Come with us, then I’ll take you back. You shouldn’t be down here alone.”
Mr. Barns studied Sarah for a moment. “Docks ain’t no place for a lady. Best you cover your head with your shawl.”
Sarah did as Mr. Barns asked, and the three of them went over to the Morse shipping office. Tim explained as little as possible. Ichabod asked Mr. Barns into his office and closed the door.
Knowing his brother wouldn’t fire the man, Tim hopped back into the buggy. Sarah kept her shawl tight around her head, shading her face, even as they drew close to her house.
“I hope you know I would never blame Miss Amity for what happened.”
Sarah only nodded.
“Don’t be upset at me for keeps.”
“I’m not cross with you. Just thinking.”
When he stopped in front of the house, Sarah hopped out of the buggy and ran quickly into the house. Clearly she didn’t want him to follow.
Miss Page crossed the street in front of the green. Not wanting to have her quiz him, Tim didn’t linger. As the buggy passed her, he met her wave with a brief nod but urged the horse onward. He’d had enough of emotional women today.
Sixteen
The third day of June. Sarah bit her lip. Surely she could tuck her woolen petticoat away for the summer. With Amity coming daily, she’d neglected to pack away her winter clothes, even if she had needed them only last week for her jaunt to Amity’s. Too bad she hadn’t worn them that day.
She opened the trunk, banging the wall. The first volume of Pride and Prejudice tumbled off the shelf, the papers inside it scattering. The note left Friday morning landed closest.
Hiding your face under a shawl?
You know what they say about women who frequent the docks.
How far have you fallen?
Sarah tucked it back in the book. There hadn’t been another note since. Knowing someone was paying such close attention to her sent chills up her spine. It had to be a single woman who’d written them, but narrowing it down to just one seemed an impossible task. Mrs. Webb’s boardinghouse housed a dozen women at capacity. But she couldn’t imagine any of the women there being the author of the notes. Sarah put the book back in place and prayed there would be no more notes to add since there hadn’t been one for three mornings.
She placed her two warmest petticoats in the trunk and pulled out her lightest ones. Soon it would be too warm to be comfortable with these. Sarah couldn’t wait. Like everyone else, she’d grown tired of the cold. What would it be like to live farther south? Lucky Miriam. Ohio must be warmer than the North Shore. They’d had only a moment to speak after church, but Mrs. Miriam Wells couldn’t look happier.
Sarah would have talked longer, but Tim had joined them. Fearing she was being watched, Sarah made an excuse and left. It must have been enough because no new note awaited her this morning. She wished she could just respond. If people wouldn’t think she had gone mad, Sarah would shout it from the front porch. “I don’t intend to marry anyone. If you want Dr. Dawes, win him without my help!”
But that would lead to questions she could never answer.
The clock tower chimed eleven. Since he was the only one in the office, Tim decided it would be a good time to visit Miss Amity. Since learning of her condition last week, she had started to talk to him more and not avoid Mrs. Morton. Although not privy to the conversations, he knew Sarah had been doing her best to impart the information Amity needed to get through the delivery. No one talked about what would happen to the baby after. There would be pain enough then.
As always, Tim took his doctor bag into the house with him. Amity needed to not fear the bag like some of his young patients did. He found Mrs. Morton already there, teaching Amity some sort of sewing stitch for a small quilt. Mrs. Wilson sat on the other side of Amity giving encouragement. No Sarah.
“Dr. Dawes, how nice of you to come by. Would you like some chocolate?” Mrs. Wilson lifted her own cup. Chocolate wasn’t his favorite drink, but having a cup would allow him to stay longer.