“This way, miss,” the boy said.
They arrived at a small tidy cottage with thatched roof. The boy went in first, leaving the door open for her. When she stepped in, she was stunned to see Thomas there, holding a swaddled infant in his large hands. She thought instantly of the lambs.
“Bring another blanket, Freddie,” he said. “We’ve got to get your sister here warmed up.”
Thomas looked at the boy—her escort—then his gaze rose to her. “Miss Charlotte?”
“Dr. Kendall asked me to come along.”
“He’s in there with her now.” He shook his head, clearly worried. “She’s strugglin’, I’m afraid.”
“The mother?”
He nodded. “Twins. Seems they’re having a terrible time with the second one. Mrs. Henning handed this one to me and told me to keep her warm.”
Freddie jogged back into the room holding a wool blanket.
“Here, let me help.” Charlotte took it from the boy and helped Thomas wrap the blanket around the tiny baby.
She said, “I thought you were off visiting cousins today.”
“Betsy is my cousin.”
“Miss Lamb?” Dr. Kendall appeared in the doorway, rolling up his sleeves. “Please, if you will.”
She gave Thomas a look of empathy before following Dr. Kendall into the bedroom. In the bed, Betsy Collins looked exhausted. The midwife standing nearby did as well.
“Mrs. Henning. Do rest yourself,” Dr. Kendall admonished.
“But—” The grey-haired woman paused in her mopping of the patient’s brow and shoulders.
“You cannot help if you faint on me.” He turned to Charlotte. “Miss Lamb, please.”
Charlotte gently took the bowl and rag from the elderly midwife and began wiping Betsy’s forehead. She was sweat-soaked and clearly weak. Charlotte smiled at the woman, who was close to her own age. “I saw your new daughter in the parlor. What a beauty she is.”
“Is she?”
“Oh, yes.”
Betsy smiled faintly.
“I shall have to attempt to reposition the baby,” Dr. Kendall announced sternly.
Betsy grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Take her hand, there, Miss Lamb,” he instructed.
Mrs. Henning had already risen from her stool to take the other.
He pushed and strained against the woman’s abdomen, sweat pouring off his forehead. “I cannot ... quite ...”
“Thomas can help,” Charlotte said. “Thomas!” she called without thinking.
Thomas strode into the room, babe in arms.
“Give her to me,” she ordered. “The doctor needs your help.”
When Dr. Kendall looked at Thomas and hesitated, Mrs. Henning said, “He’s good, he is. He can help.”
