knew he had to say something. And he knew by the tension in Maggie’s body that she was desperate for Angus to respond.
‘Yeah,’ he said at last, and it was a beginning.
‘They’ll be milkers,’ Gran whispered. ‘It’s just the start. Now Maggie’s here you can have your herd again.’
‘We could use the milk from these for cheese,’ Angus said, in a voice that sounded rusty from disuse. ‘Until we build the herd up enough to sell milk to the co-op again.’
‘Yes!’ It was still a whisper but Gran’s tone was almost triumphant. She turned to Maggie. ‘Four calves are a start. If you buy Angus another every time you can afford it…Promise me you will. Promise.’ The last word was such a fierce demand that he felt Maggie flinch against him.
‘I’ll do my best,’ she said.
‘And you’ll help her.’ The old lady was suddenly staring at
‘Gran,’ Maggie said roughly, sounding desperately anxious.
‘Yeah, it’s time to go to sleep,’ Gran said, without opening her eyes. ‘And if your fella’ll give me another shot of that morphine stuff, I’ll take it with pleasure. You’ll do that?’
‘I will,’ Max said, because there was nothing else to say, and the pressure of Maggie’s hand in his increased.
Thank you, the pressure said. Thank you.
More and more he had no idea what he’d been propelled into. This was a weird setting, so strange he felt as if he’d been transported to another world.
But there was peace here, of a sort. Angus was waiting with ill-concealed impatience for the people in the tableau to disappear so he could be alone with his animals. Maggie was leaning against him, taking strength from him and giving him warmth in return. An old lady was saying goodbye.
Maggie was weeping openly now, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked. He held her tighter, and he felt her shudder against him.
‘Can you carry Gran back to bed?’ she whispered.
‘I’ll do that, and then I’ll come back for you.’
‘I’ll make my own way,’ she whispered. ‘I always have and I always will.’
He looked down at her in the moonlight, a woman who needed to be cared for, yet who was worrying about everyone around her. She worried about more than just these two people, he knew. She worried about the whole community.
Maggie. The word alone was making him feel strange, like he’d never known what a woman could be until now.
He was involved until the morning, he told himself. No more.
Did he believe it?
First things first.
Leaving Maggie-as ordered-he carried Gran back to the house. She roused enough to direct him to her bedroom, a room of grand proportions overlooking the front garden. He tucked her into a huge bed heaped with faded eiderdowns, he injected more morphine and he thought she was asleep. But as he made to leave, her hand came out and grasped his.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve made it perfect. I can go now. Look after them for me.’
Her eyes closed again and he stood looking down at her, trying to take in what she’d just said.
It was a farewell, and by the look of her…
She desperately needed fluids, he thought, touching the back of her hand, pressing the dry skin back a little and watching it stay where he’d pressed it. She was so dehydrated.
She was emaciated. Weary. Done.
If this woman presented at Emergency right now, the wheels of medical technology would move into overdrive.
He should at least set up a drip to get fluids in.
But he knew instinctively that this woman wouldn’t thank him for extending her life. He didn’t need to talk to Maggie to know it. The decision had already been made.
She was dying and she knew it. So how did he react to the old lady’s request.
What sort of request was that?’
Should he rouse her and say ‘Hey, I’m a passing stranger, stuck for the night but out of here first thing in the morning.’
As if he could rouse a dying woman and tell her that. But not to tell her…
He could tell her nothing. She was already asleep.
He flicked off her bedside lamp and left, feeling that a promise had been made regardless. By failing to deny her…
Nonsense. She had no right to ask anything of him, and he had no need to answer.
Move on, he told himself harshly. Move on to Maggie?
He came out into the living room, expecting her to be there, but there was no sign of her. He’d come ahead with Betty, and he thought she’d have struggled back on her crutches. Apparently not.
He swore and went out again, to find her sitting on a low stone wall by the garden gate. Just sitting, staring into the night.
She should be in bed, too, and those wounds still needed dressing. He came up behind her and saw her shudder. Involuntarily his hands rested on her shoulders. She flinched, and then, unexpectedly, she leaned back into him.
‘She’ll go now,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you for caring for her.’
The night was growing more and more surreal. He’d turned into Gran’s treating doctor?
There was nothing for it but to agree. ‘I expect she will,’ he agreed. ‘Unless we get proactive.’
‘There’s no point. But today…It would have been a disaster without you.’
‘I suspect it was a disaster because of me,’ he said ruefully. ‘If I hadn’t driven around that bend…’
‘You had every right to drive around that bend.’
‘Come inside, Maggie,’ he said gently. ‘Can I carry you?’
‘No point,’ she said, and sighed. ‘Sorry. That sounded ungracious, but there’s not a lot of use in getting accustomed to leaning on anyone.’
Yet still she leaned on him.
‘You’re cold.’
‘I do need to go inside,’ she agreed with reluctance.
‘You don’t want to?’
‘I want to run,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so tired.’
He hesitated. There were things he should be doing. Carrying her inside, cleaning her face, strapping her knee, putting her to bed as he’d just put Gran.
But out here the stars were hanging low in the sky. From over at the haystack came a soft lowing as the calves settled down for the night. Angus would be with them. As Max had left, carrying Gran, he’d turned back and seen the elderly man settling onto the straw with an expression on his face that was almost joy. Angus and Bonnie wouldn’t be leaving their charges.
They wouldn’t be coming to the house to help Maggie, either.
How alone was this woman?
What was he doing? There was still something inside him yelling go no further, ask no questions, back off. He couldn’t. The old lady’s words were like a spell cast across the night.
It wouldn’t hurt, he conceded. For one night he could help, and maybe he could help by staying outside with her for a little. Instinctively he knew she didn’t want to go into the beautiful old house. No matter how Maggie had filled it with flowers, no matter how she’d fought to keep it lovely, for now age and infirmity had taken over, leaving an intangible air of impending sorrow.
