Page 32 of Beneath the Harvest Moon

“I know Mama will support me. But I am uncertain whether she wishes to return to York. She seems much happier since we came to Midthorpe. I suspect she missed her life here.”

A soft cough drew their attention to the doorway where Blythe stood. “Has the inoculation been successful?”

Elijah puffed out his chest. “I did not cry, unlike Violet.”

Blythe patted her son’s shoulder. “Grandmother is soothing her hurts with biscuits.”

“I do not need biscuits to soothe anything.”

Blythe folded her arms. “Shall I tell Mama to put them away?”

Elijah shrugged. “I do not mind having one before I return to the fields.”

“Have a care while you work,” Gabriel said. “And if you develop any symptoms more serious than a slight fever, tell your mama immediately.”

Elijah nodded.

“Before you leave,” Gabriel rummaged through his bag, “read this.” He held out a dog-eared book. “It contains some of the latest thinking on medicine and health. Dr Buchan is at the forefront of modern medicine, with attention to matters of hygiene.”

“Thank you.” Elijah leafed through the pages on his way to the kitchen.

Blythe asked, “How much do I owe you?” She lifted a hand. “And do not say nothing. You are too kind for your own good, Gabriel.”

“A shilling each.”

Blythe scowled.

“Very well, five shillings for both.”

Blythe dug around in a small leather purse.

“Elijah says you feel becoming a physician is a noble profession.” The statement slipped out before he could stop it.

“I do, because it is, and I admire those willing to care for others. You know that.” Blythe did not meet his gaze when she handed over five silver coins. Dark smudges remained beneath her eyes.

“Have you slept better since the funeral? You did not need to stay with the body the night before.”

“I could not leave the boy alone before his final journey.” She tightened the strings of her purse. “Now, I must catch up with the jobs I missed while playing nurse.”

“You did not play nurse. You provided the best care.”

She clasped her hands in front of her. “It was clearly not good enough.”

He stepped towards her. “Do not blame yourself for James’s death. He was a hearty lad, but fighting smallpox and lung fever proved too much.”

“I am certain your mother would have nursed him back to health.” Her chin dropped to her chest.

“I doubt even the most accoladed physician in the country could have saved him.” He tucked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “It is a blow to lose a patient, but one must make ready for the next. It does no good to dwell on those who could not be saved. We must concentrate on those we can help.”

Blythe harumphed. “I cannot help but think that if I had continued my training, I would—” she sighed. “You are correct. One cannot change the past, and I must learn to move forward.”

“It is not too late, you know.”

Blythe frowned.

“You could still train to be a midwife and healer as you always wished.”

She toyed with the edge of her apron. “It is too late. Who would apprentice me?”