The Lost And Found Girl by Catherine King Page A

that she dragged in from the dining hall and lit the fire. Where was Mr Roberts with the supplies? She hoped nothing had happened to him but guessed that others would have suffered in the tremors. The older woman’s condition worsened. Beth did all she could, making her mixtures from recipes she had used at Blackstone. After fivedays the fever had not broken and there was still no sign of Mr Roberts. Beth decided to go to Settle and fetch a medical man for Mrs Roberts.
    She followed the track until it came to the stream. She heard the rushing water long before she could see it. Surely it had not been so wide and turbulent on her journey up the fell. As she neared the narrow bridge she realised that only half of it was standing. One of the stone supporting arches had gone.
    The area, she knew, was riddled with potholes, underground caves and streams. The earth tremor must have widened a crack in the crag and sent water and boulders gushing downstream, taking the bridge with it. There was no way across until the water subsided. She stared at the bleak expanse of fell on the other side hoping to catch sight of a walker or rider. But it was futile. Every able-bodied man would be dealing with his own disaster from the tremor. Even when the water subsided, there would be no way a trap could cross the river until a new bridge had been built. Nonetheless, Beth waited for sight of someone, anyone, who could relay a message to the doctor. As she did, her anxiety increased. Any one of the party that had left High Fell Farm might also be injured.
    She searched the bank for a crossing point but the current was too strong and she gazed up at the high fell wondering just how much water it held in its catacombs. Reluctantly, when the light faded, she re-traced her steps back to the farm and prayed that Mrs Roberts’s fever had broken. I shall have to ask Abel for help, she thought. The notion had crossed her mind several times and she had dismissed it, uneasy with her feelings for him. But this was an emergency and she needed him. It could be weeks before Mr Roberts, or indeedanyone, would get through. A frisson of apprehension made her shiver as she realised she had no other choice.
    There was a lamp glowing through the kitchen window and a dog barked as she approached the back door. Within seconds it was open. ‘Who’s there?’
    ‘Mrs Collins. Is that you, Abel?’ She felt faint with relief to hear his voice. ‘I was coming to get you in the morning. The bridge has been swept away and we are cut off.’
    ‘Dear Lord, no. It will take weeks to repair. Could we get the donkey across?’
    ‘Not until the water goes down.’ Beth stepped inside. The fire was going well and a kettle was bubbling on the plate. ‘How is Mrs Roberts?’
    ‘She will live. Her fever is bad but she isn’t delirious. She told me you had left her to die.’
    ‘I went for a doctor.’
    ‘You are safer in here. This is a fortress of a farmhouse.’
    ‘The farmyard has not fared so well.’
    ‘So I see. I’ll stay and get it cleaned up.’
    ‘What about your sheep?’
    ‘I’ve moved them down the fell to this side of the rock fall.’
    ‘Heavens! Don’t bring them any closer. There’s a putrid cow in the stable.’
    ‘I know. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.’
    ‘Thank you.’ Beth was exhausted. ‘Have you somewhere to sleep?’
    ‘I shall be comfortable outside.’
    She wondered where. The upstairs of the stable, over a rotting corpse, was not habitable. She wanted to invite him indoors, yet dared not for fear of her reputation. He must be aware of that. She looked at his face, directly into thoseintense blue eyes, and thought, I believe he knows how I feel and he understands. She said, ‘Thank you, Abel.’
    He nodded briefly. ‘I shall have no reason to come into the farmhouse at all.’
    How could she feel relieved by this and irritated at the same time? He picked up his lantern and said goodnight, leaving her alone to ponder on her