“That’d be Johnny, the rascal. Always gettin’ into some mischief or other.”
“And I’m afraid I broke a wheel of Mr. Beebe’s carriage—but Thomas repaired it.”
“That’s a mercy. No one likes to see the old man cry.” Mrs. Beebe grinned. “Thomas has the touch, he does. What a blessing he is, especially to his mother—what with the mister out to sea fishing for days on end.”
“I wonder he’s so much older than his sister.”
“Than all the others, aye.” Mrs. Beebe looked as though she might say more but seemed to think better of it.
“Do pass me that sugarloaf, will you? There’s a love.”
On a fine afternoon the following week, Charlotte again took Anne for a walk on the shore. She looked up hopefully but saw no kites in the sky. She enjoyed the wind—though the arrangement of her hair did not—and she relished the freedom of being out of the cottage and the atmosphere of malaise that seemed to indwell it. So, too, the relief of being out from under the watchful eye of Mrs. Taylor. Her mistress was certainly not cruel, but she was exacting in her expectations of how Anne should be cared for—how she should be dressed, upon which side of her head the bow should be fastened in her small tufts of hair, and so on. It was tiresome to always be on one’s guard against a misstep. And unsettling to realize one’s livelihood and lodgings depended on a mistress who was both particular and changeable.
“Miss Charlotte!” a voice called down to her from the ridge above. There was Lizzy Cox, in those same trousers, waving down to her. “Come and see!” she called excitedly. “Come and see!”
Charlotte did not relish the prospect of pushing the baby carriage up the steep incline, so she maneuvered it off the side of the path, picked up Anne, and carried her up the slope. Lizzy met her halfway. “You’re just in time!”
“For what?”
“Lambs!”
She followed Lizzy around a fine house and to a timbered outbuilding. Inside, the smell of hay and grain and animals was strong, but not unpleasantly so. In the straw bed of a stall, Thomas sat cross-legged beside a ewe, on her side breathing rapidly. Thomas held one lamb in his arms, a second draped over his leg. “That’s it, then. Hello, Miss Charlotte.”
“Hello, Thomas.”
“Always best to be on hand during lambing. Tend to have trouble, they do. This girl is late—and see how big her lambs are.” He held up the one in his arms for her inspection.
“She was having trouble at first,” Lizzy said, “bellowing something awful. But Thomas helped her along.”
“Old Bob is a friend of mine. Had to go to town for his daughter’s wedding, so I said I’d watch this ewe for him.”
He stuck a piece of straw into the lamb’s nostrils. The lamb sneezed. Thomas wiped at its nose with a rag, then wiped down the rest of the lamb as well. “Sneezing helps them breathe.”
He offered the lamb in his hands to Lizzy. “Would you like to hold this little lad?”
“Yes, please.”
She took the lamb into her arms and held him gently against her chest. “How soft he is.”
“Would you like a turn, Miss Charlotte?” Thomas asked. “I’d offer to hold Anne for you, but my hands are soiled.”
“Here, I shall hold her, Miss Charlotte.” Lizzy handed her lamb back to Thomas, wiped her hands on her trousers and held out her hands to receive Anne. Anne, one fist in her mouth, opened her mouth even wider, forming a smile around her hand. Drool leaked out, but Lizzy didn’t seem to mind. She held Anne as if she had held many babies before. And likely had.
Thomas handed Charlotte the lamb and she held it and stroked it.
“You’re right, Lizzy. He is soft indeed.”
Little Anne’s eyes lit up as she watched the baby animal. She babbled happily and reached both hands toward the lamb.
“Not this time, moppet,” Charlotte said gently. “He’s not to put into your mouth.”
She handed the lamb back to Thomas, who set it on the floor near its mother, followed by its sibling. The ewe scrambled to her feet and began licking first one lamb, then the other. Stretching their necks eagerly, the lambs began to nurse.
“They’ll be all right on their own now,” Thomas said, and rose to his feet. Charlotte took Anne from Lizzy, and they all stepped outside into the sunshine. Thomas washed his hands in a bucket and wiped them with a clean rag.
“I’m off to finish picking the beans,” Lizzy announced, running off.
“Care to see the garden, Miss Charlotte?” Thomas asked.
