Page 56 of Beneath the Harvest Moon

A muffled squeak across the room transformed into a cough.

Blythe did not blink. “I always have, and I always will.” Her blue eyes beheld him, clear and true. “I do not intend to marry anyone but you, as we agreed last night.” She cleared her throat. “That is, if you will still have me.”

He should never have doubted her. His heart soared, and he stepped forward, cupping her chin before placing a soft kiss upon her lips.

A gasp travelled along the line of women. He should not have kissed her in public, but he could not help himself. She had announced her love and their intention to marry in front of the village gossipmongers.

He brushed her hot cheeks with his thumbs. “Of course. I love you too.”

A collective sigh rang through the ladies.

Blythe buried her face in his chest. He turned to their audience. Some smiled, and some frowned. “Well, ladies, I believe we have provided enough entertainment for today.”

With affronted mumbles and raised chins, the ladies shuffled out of the shop.

The news would spread through Midthorpe in the blink of an eye.

EPILOGUE

Two years later

Blythe knelt before her patient in the birthing chair. “One more push, Mrs Watson.”

“I can’t!” cried the woman.

“Yes, you can. One more push and your baby will be here. Think of holding it in your arms.”

Behind the chair, Gabriel’s mother nodded.

“Oh, it hurts.” Mrs Watson gasped.

“You can do it. Push!”

The soon-to-be-mother bore down and howled. The infant slipped into Blythe’s arms with a hearty cry.

After a quick glance, Blythe set the babe at its mother’s breast. “You have a healthy boy.”

“Oh, he is perfect.” Mrs Watson cried, wrapping her arms around her child.

Mrs Sharpe nodded. “Well done.”

Blythe’s heart sang. Was there any better feeling than helping to bring a new life into the world?

After ensuring all was well with Mrs Watson and her son, Blythe and Mrs Sharpe wandered through the village. Behind the uneven roofs and stubby chimneys, an orange glow spread across the sky.

Mrs Sharpe said, “It can be difficult for first-time mothers, but you were calm, efficient and encouraging.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs Sharpe rubbed Blythe’s belly. “It will not be long before you’re in the birthing chair yourself.”

“It has been over a decade since Violet was born.” Blythe ran a hand over her growing stomach.

“Don’t worry.” Mrs Sharpe wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “All will be well. I will be with you, as will Gabriel.”

They stopped before the old squire’s house, now known as the doctor’s house.

“Get some sleep. We may need to curtail your duties as the babe grows.”