As the days passed Rachel knew she was not alone in her grief. There were several families in the village and parish who had lost children and one family had lost three. She shuddered at the thought of such tragedy.
Eventually the day arrived when Conan and Bridie were allowed to return home. Conan was pale and listless. He was to be kept away from other children until Doctor MacEwan pronounced the epidemic completely over.
Four weeks was a long time in the life of a six-month-old baby and Rachel was heartbroken when Bridie showed no recognition. Her own milk had dried up. Bridie had lost weight and Rachel was desperate to give her nourishment. The nurses had been kind but they were all unfamiliar faces in strange surroundings. Back at Glens of Lochandee, Bridie was too young to understand she was home again – safe, secure and loved.
To her it was just another strange place with more unfamiliar faces. She cried more than she had ever done. It was Alice who constantly cuddled the little girl and re-established the continuity of routine which Bridie had missed. Rachel knew how necessary this was. She knew Alice had more time for sitting down with Bridie in the ancient rocking chair, for singing to her and soothing her. She knew how badly Alice was missing Margaret who had toddled after her so happily. She was grateful for Alice’s help and patience, but she could not suppress the fleeting stabs of jealousy.
Her heart ached with sorrow for the loss of Margaret, and guilt because she believed she must have neglected Bridie. If she wakened in the night Rachel nursed her longer than was necessary, finding comfort in the small warm body close to her breast.
‘You’re spoiling the wee lass,’ Ross said more than once.
‘I’m loving her. She can’t have too much loving.’
* * *
Rachel knew she would never forget Margaret Alice, the little daughter she had borne and loved so well. Like Bill Carr she grasped at her own philosophy to bring her comfort. Remembering Margaret’s apparent perfection she wondered if God had deemed her too angelic for the world she would live in and had chosen to spare her the toils of earthly life. When Conan asked where Margaret had gone and why she wasn’t coming back she told him she had gone to heaven to live with the angels.
‘Is it a nice place to live?’
‘Oh yes. Margaret will be happy there. She will not have any more pain.’
‘And no awful cough? No horrid medicine?’
‘No, she will not have any of those things,’ Rachel had answered, and prayed to God she was right.
Christmas and Hogmanay passed almost unnoticed. There had been two more cases of diphtheria at the beginning of December. One of the children had died. Since then the infection seemed to have faded away and by the end of January life reverted to as near normal as it would ever be for those who had lost children. The Reverend Simms was joined in fervent prayers for better times ahead.
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A Maxwell Maligned – Part I of The Laird of Lochandee:
At sixteen, Rachel O’Brian finds herself alone in the world and accepts a home with an old friend of her father’s, but she is unprepared for his wife’s malice and cannot guess at the secret which feeds the woman’s hatred.
The younger Maxwells welcome Rachel to their Ayrshire farm, especially Ross, but he too has earned Gertrude Maxwell’s spite. When Ross disappears Rachel is dismayed to find herself destitute and expecting his child. Not until past secrets are revealed can the two find each other again.
ISBN 9781909335820
A Maxwell Takes Flight – Part III of The Laird of Lochandee:
As their children grow, Ross and Rachel continue their battles to consolidate the farm at the Glens of Lochandee, fighting against a corrupt landlord and the ravages of disease. Overshadowing their rural life, too, are the dark clouds of another World War and the impact on their friends and family.
ISBN 9781909335844