She sat down at the table and looked around her. The house was warm and welcoming now and she enjoyed her time there, but she’d never stopped this late. She looked at the grandfather clock, which ticked steadily and made her aware of every minute that was passing. Nine-thirty – she couldn’t wait any longer, but must make her way home and hope that Adam would understand. With the fire made safe and the kettle and stew to one side, she reached for her shawl from behind the kitchen door and stepped out into the farmyard. A full moon was starting to rise, shining briefly from behind the rain clouds, and it threw eerie shadows around the yard, as Lucy pulled the door behind her and made across the yard to the path down to the valley bottom. She drew her shawl around her and looked quickly about her, hoping to spot Adam coming out of the stable or perhaps from the pig hull, which now housed a recently bought piglet. But there was no sight of him. She was about to make her way home when she heard the sound of horses’ hooves coming down the hard, stony path from the moor. She stopped and turned.
‘I’m just about to go home, sir. Your supper is waiting for you, and I’ll see you in the morning.’ She looked up at the small horse as it came into the light of the yard, and found that she was talking to a riderless pony. There was no sight of Adam, but Rosa was still saddled and bridled and had made her way home without her master. ‘What are you doing without your rider? Where’s Adam?’ She grabbed the horse’s reins and patted its neck. ‘Has he fallen or is he hurt? Oh Lord, what am I to do? You’d never have come back on your own if something wasn’t wrong.’ She stood for a second, wondering what to do. There was no option but to light a storm lamp and go and look for her master. Something was wrong, and she could not leave without knowing that Adam was safe and in his home.
With her head down against the rain, and with Rosa by her side, Lucy walked up the moorside, the lamp lighting her way. Every so often she stopped and yelled out Adam’s name, but it fell on deaf ears, with nobody replying – just the soft winds of the moor and the hoot of an owl, watching and waiting for its prey of moorland mice and voles. The light picked up the eyes of the sheep as they crouched behind the walls, and the illumination of the houses down in the valley, making Lucy realize how remote the moor was of a night. She didn’t like the feeling of being alone and vulnerable on the wild moor, as she yelled out Adam’s name again. Rosa paced patiently beside her and snorted, as Lucy stood in desperation and looked up at the stars that were starting to break through in the heavens above, as the clouds and rain began to clear above her, and the moon and stars won the battle for the night skies.
‘Adam,’ Lucy yelled out in desperation. ‘Adam!’ She turned as, faintly from a few yards away, she heard a feeble reply.
‘Here – I’m here.’
She rushed to where she had heard the voice coming from, and by the light of her lamp and the moon she made out the form of Adam, buried up to his chest in the peaty bog, unable to move.
‘Don’t come any nearer – we don’t want both of us buried in here,’ Adam gasped, his voice already weak and exhausted. ‘Go and get help. I only hope you’ll not be too late.’
Lucy stared at Adam in disbelief and worry. ‘I can’t leave you. If you died, I’d never forgive myself,’ she cried.
‘You must go – there’s no other alternative.’ Adam sighed.
‘No, I’ll try and pass you Rosa’s reins, if I can. Grab hold of them and I’ll make her walk backwards, and hopefully we will be able to pull you out,’ Lucy said as she pulled Rosa’s reins over her head and led the pony as far as she dared to the bog’s edge.
‘Don’t come any nearer, else you’ll be joining me,’ Adam whispered. He was soaked to the skin, frozen and exhausted, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to hold onto the reins that Lucy was about to throw him.
Lucy unbuckled one side of the reins and threw the long strap of leather to Adam, lobbing it several times before he caught it successfully. She watched as he wrapped the leather rein around his hands and held on for dear life itself, as Lucy held onto Rosa’s harness and pulled on the small, loyal horse to go backwards.
Rosa lifted her head and fought against the instructions given to her. And then, with coaxing and sweet words, she moved slowly backwards, a leg at a time, while Adam hung onto the rein. The peaty mire was reluctant to give forth its victim, but slowly and surely Adam was released from the life-sucking bog. He lay exhausted and shaking on the rough heathland, gasping for breath.
‘Thank you. If you hadn’t have come, I’d have been dead by the morning,’ Adam whispered.
‘You are not out of the woods yet. You are shivering, filthy and you sound terrible. Can you manage to climb onto Rosa, and I’ll lead her back down to the farm?’ Lucy looked down at a sodden Adam and tried to fight back the tears. She too was shaking, and her heart was beating fast as she bent down and offered him her arm to rest upon. He was weak, and she didn’t know if she could manage to get Adam onto the back of the horse and take him home.
Adam took her arm, pulled himself shakily up and walked the few steps towards the horse. His
