Page 66 of What a Widow Wants

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Breathing hard, Fanny reached the top of the hill. No wonder Ella had been jumping up and down. Inside, she was dancing a jig. “Thank you, dear Lord.”

Not a farmhouse, but a structure at the far end of the field almost as welcome: an ancient barn with one end almost totally fallen away. New energy surged through her.

“Hurry, Mama!” Ella had climbed up on the stone wall and jumped over into the field.

Exhaustion and relief came in waves by turn. Fanny had to sit on the stone fence, a sharp edge of rock digging into her backside, and lift her legs over. With a sigh she stood and, keeping an eye on the building, started off across the field in pursuit of her daughter. “Wait for me, please.”

Pausing in her headlong flight, Ella turned back then resumed jumping up and down, as if she could not stand still for the excitement.

Fanny was jumping up and down inside too. Even though the barn was disused, perhaps it was close to a house and warmth and people. And if not, at least it was shelter for the night. Reaching her child at last, she took Ella’s hand, and they continued quickly, over more dead grass and hillocks, toward the looming structure.

By the time they neared the barn, daylight had waned to a deep twilight gray.

Several yards from the building, caution raised doubts in Fanny’s mind. What dangers might the barn conceal? They might not be the only souls wishing to use it for a refuge tonight.

“Shhh.” Putting her finger to her lips, she pushed Ella behind her. Slowly, they approached the byre. A combination of wood and brick, one end of it had been reduced to a rubble of broken sticks and sharp stones. The opposite end, however, still stood, the wooden door hanging ajar. She crept up and poked her head into the dim doorway.

After a moment her eyes adjusted to the gloom that was even darker than the failing light outside. Possibly a barn for cattle, one end held a huge pile of moldering hay, the sweetish smell still lingering in the damp air. They slipped inside, the complete silence convincing Fanny that the place had truly been abandoned.

“Can we stay here tonight, Mama? There’s no one here.” With complete trust, Ella peered up at her.

Fanny smiled at her daughter. She must keep Ella safe this night. “Let us see what we can find, lovey. There may be houses and people on the other side of this barn.”

Taking Ella in hand, she crossed to the other side, encountering nothing untoward, and opened a small door giving onto the outside. Gazing avidly into the darkness, she searched for the merest pinprick of light across the vast expanse of grass.

The falling darkness revealed no cheerful spark, no flame of candle or lantern, merely a vast sea of grass and trees fading into blackness. Disappointment ate sharply at Fanny. She had hoped so hard that they would find someone to succor them. Still, she would give thanks for this drafty old structure. It might be the difference between their waking in the morning cold and hungry but alive, and freezing to death in the night alongside the road.

Pulling the small door shut, Fanny retraced her steps to the large pile of hay strewn haphazardly about. Their best chance to stay warm in the chilling temperatures would be to cover themselves with the discarded fodder. It should provide protection against the damp and cold, though as she drew closer the faint sweet scent gave way to a less pleasant, moldy smell. Still, beggars could not be choosers.

“Come sit down by me in the hay, Ella.” Fanny lowered herself onto the musty straw and patted the place beside her. “It will keep us warm until the morning.”

Wrinkling her nose, Ella stepped back. “It smells bad, Mama.”

“I know, lovey. But it’s ever so much warmer than the cold air. Come, sit beside me.”

“I’m hungry.” The child’s bottom lip poked out as she took a begrudging step toward Fanny.

“I know. I am as well.” Fanny held her hand out and Ella finally took it. She drew the child down to her, putting her arm around the thin shoulders and pulling her close. “We will go to sleep and in the morning we will walk across the fields. If there is a barn here, there must be a house somewhere near.” Cuddling her daughter close, Fanny rocked her gently. “They will be country people, who are always friendly.” God forgive her that lie, but she hoped whoever they eventually found would come to their rescue. “They will have a good country breakfast to share with us, homemade bread thick with butter and honey, and eggs and sausages, and lots of hot tea. Won’t that be lovely?”

“Can I have some now, please?” Yawning, Ella settled back on Fanny’s chest. “I would like bread and honey ever so much.”

“I will make certain you have as much as you like in the morning, my love.”

True darkness had descended while Fanny described the delightful breakfast. Ella sagged against her, her breathing soft and even. Poor babe. Fanny shifted her onto the hay and pulled handfuls of it over the child. The straw was stiff and scratched sometimes, but it did keep the warmth of their bodies close. She heaped it over Ella until all that showed was her head. That should keep her comfortable until morning.

The place on her chest where Ella had lain, deprived of the child’s warmth, now made Fanny shudder with a newfound chill. She must cover herself before she fell asleep on top of the hay and froze. Ignoring the musty smell that intensified each time she grasped a handful of the ancient fodder, Fanny scattered several layers of straw over her legs and lower body. Pulling it over her chest and arms was more difficult, but slowly the chill receded. She glanced toward Ella, who had not moved an inch. Good, let her sleep. They would both need their strength tomorrow.

As warmth stole into her at last, Fanny relaxed for the first time since Davies had pulled them from the carriage. When she told Matthew of Theale’s perfidy, he would be absolutely livid. Matthew in a rage was a rare sight to see. She would particularly enjoy seeing this one. Yawning, she burrowed deeper into the straw. Once Matthew rescued them, she would tell him she was sorry for all her dithering and accept all his past proposals to become his wife. Then she’d sit back and watch with great satisfaction as he took revenge on Theale on her behalf.

Drifting off, Fanny smiled at the image of Matthew planting her brother-in-law a facer. Ah yes, revenge against the old monster would be sweet indeed.

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Fanny jerked awake, completely confused about where she was or what was going on. Prickles on her hands and neck and the musty smell of the hay brought her back to where she was with startling clarity. Stealthily, she moved her hand beneath the hay until it brushed against Ella’s body, alive and warm under her blanket of straw. She eased her head back down, straining to hear any sound. Something must have awoken her, but what? No rustling of mice in the straw, no snorting of some nocturnal animal looking for shelter or a meal. It seemed the dead of night. Who else would be about? The owner of the property, perhaps, but would he come out this late to check on something? There was nothing here of value.

She settled back into the straw. This whole miserable experience had been enough to make her jumpy. Taking a deep breath she tried to relax. She’d need her strength for the ordeal yet to come tomorrow. Best get back to sleep.