Enduring Love (19 page)

Catharine gave Hannah’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, dear.”

Hannah climbed into the buggy. “I’d better be off or I’ll have no time to visit with Lydia.”

“Be watchful,” Catharine warned.

“I shall.” Hannah tightened the sash of her bonnet. “I’ll be home by early afternoon.” She slapped the reins, and the horses set off.

It felt good to be on her way somewhere, anywhere. The Athertons were kind and her cottage was more than adequate, but traveling, even if only to Parramatta, distracted Hannah from the shadow of sadness that had been with her these past months.

As the roadway disappeared beneath the wheels of the buggy, heat and biting flies besieged her. The peaceful, pleasurable trip she’d imagined wasn’t to be. Instead, she swatted at flies and urged the horses to a faster pace, hoping to create a cooling breeze.

A barge loaded with crates and bags of grain moved upriver. Two men drove poles into the muddy river bottom and pushed it forward. The image carried Hannah back to her journey inland from Sydney Town. The Female Factory and its squalor had awaited her. She envisioned the poor souls imprisoned there now. Rosalyn’s and Marjorie’s tragic ends and Abigail’s plain angular face came to mind. Abigail had always seemed resilient, but the last time Hannah had visited the Factory, she could see that years of deprivation had taken a toll on the sturdy woman.

Hannah put the image from her mind. This was to be a time of rest for her—to think on pleasantries. She let her eyes roam over the trees and bushes along the riverside. They were alive with squawking, trilling birds, each contending to have its voice heard. Hannah tried to count them but stopped at forty. There were too many, most dressed in bright feathers—reds, yellows, oranges, and myriad shades of blue. They lit up the foliage.

Hannah listened to the songs, thinking it must feel good to have something to sing about or to be free to let out whatever emotion you felt without thought or care to what someone might think.
It would be rather nice to be a bird.

In spite of the heat and bugs, Hannah enjoyed her drive to Parramatta. Once there, it didn’t take long to complete her errands. Her arms laden with bundles of cloth and a bag of thread and new needles, she walked toward the buggy, anxious to meet with Lydia.

Her empty stomach grumbled, and she hoped Lydia would be able to join her for lunch. She’d had no opportunity to send a message.

After placing her purchases in the buggy, she strolled down the street toward the apothecary. She felt a strange fluttering sensation in her abdomen and stopped. It came again.
What
is it?
she wondered, then realized the cause. “The baby,” she whispered, wonderment filling her.
My baby.

“Mum, how grand to see ye!”

Hannah looked up to see Lottie running toward her. The little girl’s red curls bounced as she ran.

She threw her arms about Hannah’s waist and hugged her. “Oh, I’ve missed ye.”

“Lottie. What a surprise.” Hannah gazed at cheery brown eyes and a freckled face. She knelt in front of the little girl. “How about a proper hug, eh?” She opened her arms.

Lottie smiled and moved closer, wrapping her arms around Hannah’s neck and holding her tightly. “I’ve not been in church and I’ve missed seeing all me friends.”

“And why haven’t you been there? Have you been on holiday?”

Lottie loosened her hold and stepped back, glancing at her mother, who walked toward them. “Mum’s been sick and then Dad.”

“Nothing serious I hope.”

“Oh no. Everyone is well now. Good as gold is what Mum says.” She smiled. “What are ye doing in town?”

“I had errands to run for Mrs. Atherton, and I hope to visit Lydia.”

“Is Thomas with ye?”

“No. He decided to stay at the Athertons’ and help Perry. He’s learning toolmaking and he quite likes it.”

“Oh. It would be nice to see him.” Lottie sounded disappointed, then brightened. “Tell him hello from me, then.”

“I will. Perhaps you and your mum can come for a visit soon.”

“I’d like that.” She looked at her mother as she approached. “Good morning,” Grace Parnell said. “How nice to see you out and about.”

Feeling a momentary flair of irritation, Hannah wondered if her separation from John meant she was expected to remain in seclusion. Knowing Grace would never purposely insult anyone, she smiled and said, “Life goes on.”

“You’re quite right. It does.” Grace glanced at Lottie. “Charles and I were sad to hear the news, though. You and Thomas have been in our prayers.”

“Thank you. Your prayers are welcome.” Hannah looked up the street toward the apothecary, anxious to move on. The subject of what had happened between her and John still brought spasms of pain. “Thomas and I are getting along quite well. We feel at home at the Athertons’. And as I was telling Lottie, Thomas is learning toolmaking. Perry Littrell has taken him under his wing. Thomas is quite good and may well grow up to be a toolmaker like John.”

“That’s grand news. It’s a good trade, indeed.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the women. Grace finally said, “Lottie and I will be taking our midday meal at the café. Would you care to join us?”

“I’d love to, but I already have plans to spend lunch with Lydia.”

“Mum,” Lottie said, “can we visit Hannah and Thomas soon?”

“Of course. I’ll send a note to Catharine.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you. And I’m sure Thomas will as well.”

“Just as soon as possible, then.” Grace caressed Lottie’s curls. “I fear we may all be locked in our homes soon with this dreadful outbreak of quinsy.”

“There’s an outbreak? I heard there were only three cases and one of them is at the Female Factory.”

“We can’t be too careful.” Grace looked up the street as if she might spot someone with the dread disease walking toward them. “I wasn’t certain I should come into town at all, but some things must be done. I pray it doesn’t become widespread.”

“I’m sure Doctor Gelson has everything well in hand. He’s a fine physician.”

“He is, at that.” Grace took Lottie’s hand. “It was a pleasure to see you. Say hello to Catharine for me.”

“I will.” Hannah accepted a quick one-armed hug from Lottie. “I look forward to your visit.”

“Me too.” Lottie smiled. “I’ll see ye at church this Sunday, eh?”

“See you then.”

Lottie and her mum walked toward the café.

Hannah continued on to the apothecary. When she stepped inside, a pungent odor like the dampness of an English forest settled over her. With the smell came a childhood memory. She and her mother and father had gone on a picnic outside the city. She’d explored the shadowed woods and then lay down in cool fragrant grasses, staring up through the limbs of a monstrous tree. When she rolled to one side, a giant fungus that resembled a face of a troll she’d once seen drawn in a book was only inches from her. Startled, she’d shrieked and jumped to her feet. Her father had laughed and then shown her it was nothing more than a growth coming from the tree. She could still smell its sharp odor.

Lydia stepped into the room. “Hannah! How good to see ye.” She pulled her friend into a tight hug, then releasing her, said, “I’d planned to come visit ye this afternoon. And here ye are.” Her green eyes looked brighter than usual.

She closed the door behind Hannah. “Do ye have errands to do?”

“I’ve finished already. I found some beautiful fabric. Mrs. Atherton wants me to make gowns for the women at the Female Factory and some for the poor ladies in the Sydney Town prison.”

“So she’s still watching out for the women, then.”

“She is.”

Lydia smiled. “I remember well her kindness, the Lord bless her.” Moving toward a door that led to her living quarters, she asked, “Can ye stay for tea?”

“I was hoping for more than that. Can you join me for lunch at the café? I’ve been putting a little aside from my wages just for a special occasion.”

“Lunch out is a grand idea. I’ll tell David. I’m sure he won’t mind. I’ll be right back.” Lydia disappeared into the house.

Hannah roamed the small shop. David was committed to taking good care of the people in Parramatta, and so the small store contained most any kind of elixir or remedy one might need. An earthenware bowl sat on the counter, a pestle still lying in it. An herb of some sort had been ground up and waited to be bottled. Hannah bent over it and sniffed. The odor was sharp, making her nose sting. She straightened and pinched her nostrils closed.

The door to the house opened, and Lydia stepped out. Pinning her bonnet in place, she said, “Actually, I’m not allowed in the apothecary these days. David’s concerned about my health.”

“Your health?”

“It’s the quinsy. He’s worried an ill patient will come for medicine. He’s nearly locked me in the house.”

“Does he think it’s a serious outbreak?”

“He’s not greatly alarmed, but he’s had several calls from people who are scared they have it and some who do. I doubt we have much to worry ’bout, though.” She smiled and, placing a hand on Hannah’s back, steered her toward the door. “I’m starved. And it will be good to get out of the house.”

The two friends settled at a table in the corner of the café. Lottie waved at them when they walked in. She and her mother sat at a table near the front windows. “I’ve got to say hello,” Lydia said and hurried across the room. Hannah followed.

“So how ye keeping, eh?” Lydia asked, giving Lottie a hug. “We’re fine now.” She looked at her mum.

Grace nodded. “Charles and I were laid up with some sort of fever, but are quite well these days.” She smiled. “You’re looking fit.”

“I am.”

Grace glanced at Hannah. “So good to see you again.”

“It would seem we’ve chosen similar paths today.”

“Indeed.”

“We’ll let ye finish yer lunch,” Lydia said. “Good day.”

“I’ll look for you on Sunday, then.”

“Yes. We’ll be there.” Lydia circled Hannah’s waist and they moved across the café to a table in the corner. “Lottie’s looking lovely, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Very.”

“When we were on the ship, she was such a frail little thing.” “Those days were beastly, especially for the children.” Hannah could still see Lottie, a resolute little waif. She’d needed a mum after losing hers, and Hannah had needed Lottie. The two had comforted and bolstered one another. “Her strength carried her through.”

“That and yer mothering.”

Mild melancholy touched Hannah. To this day, she missed being Lottie’s mother. “God was good in giving her Grace. She’s a fine mum.”

“That she is.” Lydia leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “Ye look good, Hannah.”

“Thank you. I’m well. Thomas and I are . . . comfortable.” She studied her friend, thinking something was different about her. “You’re looking especially pretty today. Have you changed something? Your hair or . . . I don’t know just what it is, but you’re quite beautiful.”

“Beautiful? Me? I’ve never considered myself something to look at.”

“You’ve always been lovely.”

“What, me with my freckles and square hips?” She smiled and sat back, keeping her hands on the table in front of her. “Something is different, though.” She waited for a moment, as if holding a secret. “I’m going to have a baby.”