He galloped after his cronies, sending dust flying over Kerensa and choking her. Coughing violently, she somehow crawled over to Jack. He lay on his back, his head turned to one side with his mouth wide open and his tongue hanging out. She knelt over him and her hands hovered over his body, not knowing what to do or what to touch first. Then she smoothed streaks of dusty bloodied hair away from his battered face and cried tears of hopelessness.

‘Oh Jack, what have I done to you? My poor Jack, it’s all my fault. My poor dear Jack. I’m sorry… I’m sorry…’

Sobbing wretchedly she lowered her head on his chest, feeling sharp edges of broken rib under her cheek. She stayed like that till her tears slowed, then raising her head she pushed back her hair and looked helplessly about. What should she do now? She could do nothing for Jack. He was dead.

She hoped she was mistaken about the baby coming but another strong pain convinced her the birth was not far off. She breathed in deeply in the way Beatrice had taught her until the pain passed. From her experience of giving birth to Olivia and Luke she reckoned she had at least four or five hours. Long before that she hoped help would come from someone travelling along the cart track or out looking for them.

She put her head sorrowfully on Jack’s chest again. Suddenly her body stiffened. There was a faint sound… definitely something… The heady knowledge that she could hear something stirring in Jack’s beaten body brought her fully to her senses.

‘You’re alive! Jack! Oh Jack!’ She gently shook his still body, desperate for any movement, however small. It came in a weak flutter of an eyelid. ‘Oh, thank God, thank God.’

Her mind now crystal clear, Kerensa knew she had to get help for Jack. The day was advancing towards the afternoon and getting warmer but even so Jack could become cold and it would worsen his condition. Taking off her jacket she placed it over him. Carefully she pulled off his neckerchief and dabbed at the blood on his face but it made no difference to his mauled features. She straightened his limp legs, praying it would not make his injuries worse. Then she placed her hat over his head to keep off the sun. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear.

‘I’m going to get help, Jack, I promise. Just hold on, I’ll make sure you’ll be all right.’

She got shakily to her feet. She would get help. But from where? There was only one answer. The nearest dwelling was Trecath-en Farm. She would go to Clem.

Chapter 25