Free Midwife of the Blue Ridge by Christine Blevins Page A

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    pliments. “It’s been a trying day, lass. Ye must be done in. Take a
    blanket and fix yerself a bed near the fi re.”
    Maggie’s smile evaporated. “And where’ll you sleep?”
    “I’m not goin’ t’ sleep just yet.” Seth slipped one of his moc-
    casins onto his hand and wriggled a finger through a tear in the
    Midwife of the Blue Ridge 59
    sole. “I’ve mending to do.” He tossed wood to the fire and settled
    back to patch the hole.
    Satisfied with his answer, Maggie cleared a flat area of twigs
    and stones and spread a wool blanket. She draped her plaide
    about her shoulders and lay on her side, facing the fi re.
    Even though she was very tired, the nocturnal babble—chirping
    crickets, croaking frogs, and an odd creature sounding much like
    teeth of a comb dragged across a hard edge—thwarted her at-
    tempts to find sleep. Maggie propped up on one elbow. “Och, but
    it’s noisy, na?”
    “No noisier than the streets of Glasgow, I expect.” He glanced
    right, to his big knife stuck point end in the ground. His long rifl e
    rested beside it, barrel end up on a forked branch. “Yiv naught t’
    fear, lass. I tend to sleep with one eye open, rifle primed and knife
    at the ready.”
    The sight of his loaded weapon set Maggie’s mind at ease, and
    she was a little surprised to be more threatened by what lurked
    beyond the glow of their campfire than by what might be lurking
    in the mind of her master.
    Other than his initial gruff aspect, she could only classify
    Seth’s behavior as kind—almost brotherly. Still, Maggie decided
    that she, too, must sleep with one eye open. She cradled her head
    on bent elbow, and her eyes grew heavy as she watched the dance
    of the fl ames.
    H
    Maggie jerked awake. She must not have been sleeping long, for
    Seth was still awake, staring catatonic into the fl ames, sipping
    from a leather flask and smoking a funny, long-stemmed pipe. She
    heard the noise again—growling, coming from the pitch black
    beyond. Seth slowly set his pipe aside and picked up his knife.
    Maggie stared into the darkness, the tiny hairs raised on the
    back of her neck. Something stared back. “What is it, Seth?”
    The twin red lights flashed and flew toward her. Maggie
    squeezed her eyes tight and screamed at the top of her lungs.
    60 Christine
    Blevins
    Seth laughed and shouted, “Friday!” He dropped his weapon
    to greet the dog bounding into the light of their campfi re. “Stop
    yer gallie-hooin’, Maggie—it’s but a dog!”
    She opened her eyes. Here, barking and leaping, was the same
    ginger dog she had befriended on board the Good Intent .
    “Ye scared th’ bejesus out of Maggie, Friday!” Seth scrubbed
    the dog’s floppy ears. “No t’ worry, lass. He’s not one of them
    biting dogs.”
    Friday circled the fi re twice and flopped with a grunt at Mag-
    gie’s side. “I know this dog,” she said. “He was on the ship this
    morning. Where’s yer master, pup?” She stroked one fi nger along
    the velvet space between Friday’s eyes and a moon-cast shadow
    loomed over her.
    “C’mon, lad . . .” Seth waved Tom Roberts into their circle.
    “Yer always welcome t’ share my fire.” Tom stepped around
    Maggie to pump Seth’s outstretched hand and slap him several
    times on the back. He settled next to Seth, immediately removing
    wet moccasins and stockings and stretching his feet to the fi re.
    “Nothing worse than rotten feet, eh?” Maggie observed,
    amused at the attention these rough men lavished on their feet.
    The hunter ignored her.
    Seth splashed whiskey from his flask into a tin cup and handed
    it to his friend. “Och, ’tis good t’ see ye, Tommy! Naomi’ll be
    pleased t’ hear yer still walking among the living.”
    Naomi? Maggie scooted closer to the fi re.
    “Hmmph . . . tell me, friend, how pleased will Naomi be when
    she sees what twenty-three pounds buys in Richmondtown these
    days?” Tom jerked a thumb Maggie’s way.
    “Ahhh . . .” Seth