The Girl from the Tanner's Yard

by Diane Allen

  ‘You must go – there’s no other alternative.’ Adam sighed.

  ‘No, I’ll try and pass you Rosa’s reins, if I can. Grab hold of them and I’ll make her walk backwards, and hopefully we will be able to pull you out,’ Lucy said as she pulled Rosa’s reins over her head and led the pony as far as she dared to the bog’s edge.

  ‘Don’t come any nearer, else you’ll be joining me,’ Adam whispered. He was soaked to the skin, frozen and exhausted, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to hold onto the reins that Lucy was about to throw him.

  Lucy unbuckled one side of the reins and threw the long strap of leather to Adam, lobbing it several times before he caught it successfully. She watched as he wrapped the leather rein around his hands and held on for dear life itself, as Lucy held onto Rosa’s harness and pulled on the small, loyal horse to go backwards.

  Rosa lifted her head and fought against the instructions given to her. And then, with coaxing and sweet words, she moved slowly backwards, a leg at a time, while Adam hung onto the rein. The peaty mire was reluctant to give forth its victim, but slowly and surely Adam was released from the life-sucking bog. He lay exhausted and shaking on the rough heathland, gasping for breath.

  ‘Thank you. If you hadn’t have come, I’d have been dead by the morning,’ Adam whispered.

  ‘You are not out of the woods yet. You are shivering, filthy and you sound terrible. Can you manage to climb onto Rosa, and I’ll lead her back down to the farm?’ Lucy looked down at a sodden Adam and tried to fight back the tears. She too was shaking, and her heart was beating fast as she bent down and offered him her arm to rest upon. He was weak, and she didn’t know if she could manage to get Adam onto the back of the horse and take him home.

  Adam took her arm, pulled himself shakily up and walked the few steps towards the horse. His legs were like jelly, and he couldn’t stop shaking as he tried to put his foot in the stirrups and hoist himself up into the saddle. Lucy put her shoulder underneath him and helped hoist him into the saddle, then watched as he slumped down over the horse’s neck, hanging onto its mane.

  ‘We’ll get you home and into the warmth. Then perhaps I should go for the doctor.’ Lucy took the harness of the little horse again and, with one hand on one of Adam’s legs and the other guiding the horse down the moorside, she slowly made her way from the wild moor down to the farmyard. She was thankful when she arrived in the yard and saw the lights and smoke rising from the farmhouse. She’d found Adam and he was alive – that was all that mattered for now, she thought, as she took the horse and its rider as near the kitchen door as she could, before holding out her arms for Adam to take, as he slid off the back of the horse.

  ‘Steady now, take your time. Let’s get you up these stairs and into bed. I’ll bring the bed-bottle up, once you are in bed, and that will warm you up.’ Lucy was Adam’s crutch as he walked, step by step, up the stairs to his bedroom.

  He sat, still sodden, on the edge of his bed and looked up at Lucy. ‘Sorry, I haven’t the energy to undress. Can you help me, please?’ He shivered and shook, his voice feeble as he begged her with his eyes.

  ‘Yes, sir. Let’s get you into a clean nightshirt and washed, and then into bed.’

  Lucy had never seen a naked man before, and she blushed as she started to peel the peat-covered clothes off her master’s body. She was trying her best to ignore his manly parts as she pulled his breeches off and put a clean nightshirt over his head, before washing his face and hands and then lying him down in bed.

  ‘I’ll go and get the doctor, as you look to be running a fever.’ Lucy looked at Adam and pulled the sheets over him.

  ‘No – no doctor!’ Adam protested. ‘You’ll find some laudanum drops in a bottle in the top drawer over there. Just give me one of those drops – it’ll cure my fever and help me sleep.’ He closed his eyes, too ill to worry that Lucy had seen him naked and that now she knew his secret addiction. She passed him the laudanum, which he took with shaking hands and then collapsed onto his pillow. He sighed and looked up at her. ‘Thank you, you’ve saved my life. Now you must go home. Leave me – your parents will be worried about you.’ He closed his eyes.

  Lucy looked down at him as she stood up. How could she leave him in such a state? If she had been even an hour later in finding him, he would surely have perished in the cold of the peat bog. She tiptoed out of the bedroom and went to place the kettle back on the fire, and fill the stoneware bed-bottle to put under Adam’s bedcovers. She hung her rain-sodden shawl back up behind the kitchen door and towelled dry her long hair, before taking her sodden boots off her feet and warming them at the fireside. The steam rose from her soaked skirt and she shivered herself, as she filled the bed-bottle with boiling water from the kettle, after taking her dress off and hanging it on the clothes drier above the kitchen fire. She was about to take the bottle upstairs, when there was a knock at the door and she hurried to answer it, opening it only slightly, until she knew who was behind it.

  ‘You are here then, our lass. We thought something had happened to you. Mother’s bothering to death, and she made me walk up to see what you are about.’ Bill looked at his daughter, half-dressed and with her hair still damp, with a bed-bottle in her hand. ‘It’s like that, is it? Well, don’t come running back to us when you are in trouble. I thought Adam Brooksbank was a decent man, but obviously not, as you have next to nothing on.’ Bill scowled at his daughter.

  ‘It’s not what it looks like, Father. He’s ill in bed – he nearly died tonight, sucked down into the mire at the top of the moor. I’ve just pulled him out, with the help of the horse. In fact the poor animal is still standing in the yard. I’ve only stripped my dress off because I was sodden to the bone. And this bottle is to warm Adam up, as he’s feverish, shivering and exhausted. Come and see for yourself – he’s in bed and all his peat-caked clothes are on the floor. I don’t think I should really leave him on his own tonight.’

  Lucy opened the door for her father and watched as he looked around the farmhouse, and at her clothes drying above the fire.

  ‘He’s up there – climb up the stairs and tell me what you think. He won’t have the doctor. He’s taken some drops of laudanum and says that will see him right.’ Lucy ushered her father up the creaking stairs to the bedroom, where Adam lay, sweating but asleep, in his bed. ‘He’s caught a chill. Look at the beads of sweat running down his head. He doesn’t want to be on his own tonight, and he should have the doctor.’

  Bill looked concerned as he heard Adam mumble in a strange language under his breath. ‘He’s wandering in his mind – that’ll be the laudanum and the fever.’

  ‘I can’t leave him, Father, he’s too ill. I’ll stop until the fever breaks or goes the other way, God forbid.’ Lucy placed the bed-bottle under the bedcovers and picked the dirty, peat-covered clothes up from the bedroom floor and looked at her father. ‘I’m going to stay, so don’t ask me to come home. He needs me.’

  ‘Well, he’s not fit to be left, and I’m no good at looking after anybody. But at the same time, I don’t like leaving you on your own with him. What made him unaware of the mire up there on the moss, as everyone local knows it’s there? He might have killed himself, the silly bugger. You’d better stop – he’s going to need you.’ Bill shook his head and looked at Adam who was still mumbling under his breath. ‘Poor bugger, he nearly lost his life in the Crimea, and now he’s like this.’

  ‘That’s why I can’t leave him. He’s a good man and he needs somebody by his side tonight. Besides, Archie will be here first thing in the morning, so I’ve only a few hours on my own.’ Lucy looked at her father and knew that he respected Adam Brooksbank for serving his country, and for being understanding about the loss of the baby.

  ‘Aye, well, stay with him then. It’s only right and proper that you do. I’ll stable the horse before I go, so don’t fret over it not being looked after. You sit with him overnight. He’ll get worse before better, by the looks of him. He’s lucky to be
alive – the devil must be on his side.’ Bill started to go down the stairs, with Lucy following him, when he stopped at the kitchen door. ‘You’ll be alright, won’t you? You’ll not be frightened if anything happens to him? Locals always had it that this place is bad luck, and they might be right.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Father. I only hope that he makes it through the night.’ Lucy’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘He’s a good man, Lucy. But don’t you get too close to him. You are just his maid. Your mother said your head was full of thoughts of him. Set your sights on somebody your own age, not somebody who’s a cripple.’ Bill sighed and opened the door. ‘I’ll see to the horse, and one of us will be up to see how you both are in the morning. Or send Archie down, if it’s bad news.’

  ‘I will, Father, thank you.’ Lucy watched Bill grab Rosa’s reins as the pony stood patiently in the yard, then he led her to the stables behind the house. She closed the kitchen door, once he had disappeared out of sight. She was on her own and it was her task to make sure that Adam Brooksbank lived to see another day. Please God that he did, because she knew she loved him, no matter what her father said.

  18

  Lucy sat at Adam’s bedside. It was the second day of him drifting in and out of consciousness, and she had heard him shout his dead wife’s name in despair, as he relived his past. She had sat by his side, keeping him cool and giving him sips of water, for the last forty-eight hours, without securing any real sleep for herself – just the odd nap when she found herself slipping into an uneasy slumber as she sat faithfully by his side.

  Archie had been her prop outside, keeping the farm working and lambing the last of the sheep, and making sure that all was in order there. He’d come to an understanding with Lucy’s father that he would work for Adam Brooksbank until he regained his strength – if he ever did. Lucy prayed that Adam would survive. The more she soothed his head, the more she realized how she felt about the man whose life hung in the balance. She closed her eyes and felt her eyelids getting heavier as she dropped off to sleep in the uncomfortable Windsor chair, as Adam for the first time in a while lay still and quiet. Perhaps the worst was over now and, with sleep, he’d recover.

  Lucy awoke with a jerk, not knowing the time or day, but she quickly regained her senses and remembered where she was and what she was about.

  ‘I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.’ Adam looked up at a wide-eyed Lucy and smiled wanly. ‘How long have I been in this bed? I’ve no idea of time,’ he whispered, as she looked down on him with relief.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’ Lucy pushed back her long hair and looked down at her ward. ‘You’ve been in your bed for two days now. I didn’t think you were going to survive. Thank God your fever has broken. Do you remember why you are here? The bog you were stuck in?’ She looked at Adam as he tried to ease himself up onto his pillows. ‘Here, let me.’ She helped him sit up and plumped up his pillows, so that he could sit more upright in his bed.

  ‘And you’ve been by my side all that time? You’ve never left me? It seems that I owe you my life, because yes, I do remember you helping me out of the bog that was sucking my life away. If you’d not come searching for me, I’d surely have died of the cold and been sucked down into the peat’s depths.’ Adam closed his eyes, exhausted from the small amount of talking he had done.

  ‘I couldn’t have done any other. I couldn’t have left you there. And you needed nursing. You were adamant not to have the doctor, and you administered yourself a dose of laudanum, which eased your pain and made you sleep. But it was when the fever came over you that I worried for your life,’ Lucy said as Adam shook his head.

  ‘Ah, you’ve found out about my weakness for laudanum. I only take it when I’m desperate – I’m not addicted,’ Adam whispered with his eyes still closed, hoping that Lucy would not question him any more about his need for the painkiller.

  ‘It makes no difference to me. Plenty of people take laudanum, and I’ve known my mother take it in the past, after giving birth. She says it helps dull her pain and her low mood, as sometimes life can be too painful to bear. Now, you just rest and keep quiet, and I’ll go and get you some broth. You’ve not eaten for the last few days, so we need to build your strength up.’ She stood up and looked down at Adam, feeling that a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. He was alive, and now she would nurse him back to strength. She smiled and nearly burst into song at the thought of her Adam being back in the land of the living.

  Adam sipped the broth being fed to him and looked at Lucy. ‘What would I have done without you? I take it that it was you who undressed me and put me into bed? I’m sorry that I can only just remember. I must have been frozen to the bone when you got me home.’ He sipped slowly at the spoonfuls of beef broth that Lucy gave him gently, then started putting together the past few days, from what he could remember.

  ‘I did, sir. There was no one else to do it.’ Lucy blushed as she placed the spoon in the bowl and tried not to make eye contact with him.

  ‘I hope I covered my modesty. I thank you, Lucy. You’ve done more than I could have asked of you, these last few days. Please stop calling me “sir”. From now on, I’m “Adam”. After all, you know more about me than any friend.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry, sir. You’ve been the perfect gentleman while you’ve been ill. You rambled a lot in your thoughts, and mentioned your late wife’s name more than once, but whatever you said is already forgotten.’ Lucy smiled and stood up as he looked at her.

  ‘It’s “Adam”! And thank you again, Lucy, I’ll not forget your help. The sooner I’m back on my feet, the better. My flock will need attention, not to mention the rest of the farm. I’ve also the little matter of sorting out Jacob Baxter. It is his fault that I’m in this state. I caught him stealing a lamb, or at least I chased him to our dividing wall, but I’d forgotten about the mire and waded into it in the mist.’ Adam scowled and swore under his breath.

  ‘There’s no need to rush getting better, for the sake of the farm. Archie has it all in hand, as my father’s let him work here instead of at the flay-pits. He knew you needed Archie more. I’ll ask him to check your flock. He lambed the last two sheep yesterday, and I think he said you had a pair of twins and triplets born. He was here early each morning and hasn’t been going home until dusk. He’s been worried about you, just like me.’ Lucy shook her head. ‘Those bloody Baxters are a bad lot, especially Jacob. I’ll ask Archie to check the number of sheep, and then he can go down to the peelers in Denholme and tell them about your mishap, and that you saw Jacob with one of your lambs. It’s time they were brought to justice, if you are up to it.’ Lucy frowned.

  ‘Aye, if he could do that, I’d appreciate it. Ask Archie to tell the sergeant there to come and see me. I might be in my bed for now, but I’ll soon be up and about, and those bastards are not getting away with it.’ Adam slumped back down into his pillows. He was tired, so very tired, but he’d see justice done to the Baxters, if it was the last thing he did.

  Archie stood on the moor top. He’d counted and counted again, but he was still two sheep short. There should have been forty – forty sheep and their followers – so that meant two were missing; and if the lambs had been taken with them, it could be as many as six, if they both had twins.

  He looked around him and spat out the grass that he had been chewing on. It was time to go down into Denholme and talk to the peelers. This time the Baxters would be caught, if they still were holding the sheep they had stolen. The speck of red paint, and the sheep’s breed, would catch them good and proper. They’d swindled and stolen their way in the world for long enough, and hopefully now they’d get their comeuppance.

  ‘Now then, Adam. You’ve been in the wars, I hear, and had a run-in with the tough boys of our patch. They’ve got a lot to answer for, have the Baxters. I wish they’d bugger off to where they came from. Since they appeared in the area there’s been nowt but trouble: stock goin
g missing, fences being broken down, not to mention folk being bullied into selling their homes to them. And I’m sure that they are up to no good, making counterfeit money, but I haven’t been able to prove it as yet.’

  The sergeant looked at Adam. It had been a long time since he’d talked to Adam Brooksbank, and memories of them both joining the constabulary in Keighley together came flooding back. They’d been close friends then; both of them young and full of hope for the future, ready to take on the world and change it.

  ‘Aye, it’s good to see you, Fred. We go back a long way, do you and me. So I’m glad that you are still a sergeant in these parts, because these buggers – as you say – need stopping. Archie will have told you what happened. They’ve taken two of my sheep, not to mention Jacob leaving me in the mire to die, without a second’s glance. If it hadn’t have been for Lucy, I’d have been a goner. Thank God she saved me.’

  ‘You always do manage to get yourself into bother, one way or another, Adam. When I heard that you’d come back to live at home, I thought: Perhaps this time he’ll settle, tend to his family home and, hopefully, find himself a woman. Then I hear that you were there when that strange bugger, Thomas Farrington, died at The Fleece. And now you’ve got yourself involved with the Baxters. I’m beginning to think you court danger and bad luck.’

  Fred Dobson looked down at Adam. He’d been the first one on the scene when Adam’s wife had died, and he knew that Adam had never recovered from the loss of her and the baby she had been carrying. He’d lost his best friend that day, as grief had turned Adam into a different man: bitter and angry with the world. However, looking and listening to him now, Fred hoped that he had finally found peace.

  ‘Now Archie Robinson tells me that these two sheep are marked on their horns, underneath their ears, with a dot of red paint. So if they are on the Baxters’ property, they should be easy to find. This might be the excuse we’ve needed to raid their farm. It’s the first time one of the Baxters has actually been seen thieving, so I’m grateful you are still alive to tell the tale.’