Chapter 26
Mary
Dumfries
April 14, 1912
In true Scottish fashion, it had been terribly damp and cold on this early spring Sunday. Mary had sat shivering in the great stone church next to her mother, ungrateful for the towering stone walls of the church that never allowed heat to stay during the winter and made it stifling hot during the summer. She wasn't certain if she was so cold because of the weather or if she was just more sensitive now that she was expecting.
The Humes always sat at the front of the church, Andrew always sitting perfectly still and attentive to whatever the priest was saying. Alice mirrored him, her hair pinned up perfectly under her elegant hat. Grace and Andy sat beside them, Grace sneaking looks at Mary whenever she got the chance. Mary had always been friendly with Jock's sisters and it was a shame she hadn't gotten to know them better as their father kept them far away from the Costins after Jock had begun handfasting.
It was upsetting that such a large family contained so much division and anger. It was the death of Jock's mother that had torn the family apart, primarily Nellie and Jock. The Costins had also been a large family at one point, but bad luck had always seemed to follow them. Many of Mary's siblings had died as children and in the last few years both her father and her favorite brother had passed away. Although this baby was much too small to feel any movement inside her, Mary put her hand to her stomach, convinced that her son's life would be nothing like the one Jock had endured. This baby would have a loving home and loving parents that were both alive and well.
However, the chill that had settled into her bones during the church service refused to go away that night. She had even taken a hot bath (a rare luxury) that afternoon, and yet it was nearly midnight and she was still shivering underneath the many blankets of her bed. The clock on her nightstand read ten minutes until midnight and a chill so violent ran through her body that she nearly cried out. She went to the small fireplace in her room, poking the embers until it was set ablaze again. Even now, standing this close to the flames, she was still shaking with cold.
As she turned to go back to her bed, her shoulder bumped something on the mantle. A pack of playing cards fell to the floor, most of them spilling into the fire, already lost to the flames. She realized with horror that these were the very cards Jock had won her at the fair when they had first met. She scooped up the nearly empty pack from the hearth and clutched it to her chest.
What a fool I am, she thought, placing what remained of the cards back on the mantle. She went back to bed still freezing cold and a nagging feeling that something was wrong.
Jock, she prayed. Come home.
