Besides, in Molly’s opinion, Marlow Tanner had made matters worse by marrying the one they called Emma Grady. In spite of the fact that the hated Justice Crowther had done nothing to stop her being transported as an accessory to murder, and there was now a feud said to be raging between them, Molly saw that particular woman as an enemy to be feared. After all, rumours ran rife and happen Emma and Caleb Crowther were not ‘at each other’s throats’. After all, he was her uncle when all was said and done, and there was no denying that Justice Caleb Crowther would like nothing better than to clap Molly in irons and leave her to rot. ‘But oh, not if Molly keeps her wits about her!’ Molly declared aloud now. ‘They’ll not catch me and mine while there’s a breath in my body.’

Molly and the Justice had crossed paths on that particular night when he had snatched the precious timepiece from round her neck and burned old Sal’s cabin to the ground. It was Molly’s avowed intent that her enemies would never get the better of her, nor would the one who had joined them… old Sal’s treacherous brother, Marlow.

Drenched in sweat and anxious for her baby, Molly waited for Tilly to come to her. The time for thinking was over. The child was on its way and there was much hard work ahead. If Tilly didn’t hurry up, Molly knew she’d have to do it all on her own. There was no doubt that the birth was imminent. That in itself wasn’t a bad thing, reasoned Molly, because this particular child had been the worst of all to bear. She would not be sorry to see it parted from her aching body and lying warm beside her. But it was hard! Dear God in Heaven, it was hard to take such persistent and crippling pain; worst of all to make herself suppress the cries that might help to make the ordeal a little more bearable. But she must not cry out, not in front of little Sal, who would likely be horrified to hear her mammy in such pain.

As it was, the girl knew well enough that ‘my babby’ was on its way, for Molly had been careful to satisfy little Sal’s curiosity regarding ‘the bump’ in her tummy; although she had kept her explanations short and simple, assuring the child that the babby she would insist was hers was a precious gift to her mammy and daddy from the Lord above and that the ‘bump’ was the cradle where the tiny being would stay warm and safe, until it was big and strong enough to come into the world and say hello. Little Sal was content with the explanation and never tired of hearing it. ‘I hope she says hello to me first,’ she had told Molly with an old-fashioned look in her soft blue eyes, ‘’cause I was here before Peggy, so my arms are bigger to hug the babby… and I won’t let the babby fall, will I, Mammy?’