Baby

slip by, both convinced it might be her only chance off the farm, a fortuitous rescue from the ignoble plight of spinsterhood. God knows, who would come along again with Netty’s perpetual habit of spending every free moment in the woods or wrapped up in her latest creature rescue?
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    Mrs. Smith longed for her baby girl to avoid many of her own early mistakes that led to their current circumstances. Mr. Smith was a good, God fearing man, but Mrs. Smith wanted Netty to have the wonder of true love, just like she herself once experienced. She especially wanted her off the farm, wistful hope for an easier life of comfort and security. Every mother in the county plotted to secure the best suitors for their daughters. And Mr. Woods vouched for Robert himself. After all, Robert’s favorable legal wrangling with Mr. Woods’ extensive farm holdings kept him lucratively employed for years.
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    Netty felt quite content on the farm with her parents. Mr. Woods often stopped by to consult Papa on farm business. He never failed to bring special treats for all of them, sweets for her, bolts of good strong sack cloth for Mama, books for them both and really horrible smelling tobacco for Papa. She remembered with delight, her mama’s blushes and rare girlish giggles as Mr. Woods surprised her with the occasional store bought pieces of finery, never understanding her papa’s silence, long after Mr. Woods departed.
    Far behind the tiny cabin stood a well-built outbuilding previously used to store winter firewood, seeds for the next year’s plantings and the trellises for her mother’s bean crop. After much lobbying to Mr. Woods when she was a child, she finally got him to agree, amid much laughter and hearty encouragement, to allow her to turn it into her very own animal hospital. For it was Mr. Woods who owned the shed, along with the surrounding 2000 acres, and even the little cabin she lived in. Netty thought Mr. Woods was probably her best friend.
    So, it was with the jubilant blessings of her parents and Mr. Woods that Netty accepted Robert Doyle’s proposal of marriage, even as she waited in vain for the elusive feelings described by her mama as true love.
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    Netty forced her thoughts to return to her present dilemma. She spent every minute since arriving at the cabin moving gingerly on her badly damaged feet, cleaning cobwebs, shooing away harmless black snakes and field mice, stocking in some meager supplies and linens, collecting firewood to buffer her from the biting cold evenings and attempting to repair the dilapidated furnishings still left in the cabin. Upon reflection, she now understood why Mr. Woods failed to rent the cabin after her mother’s death. Robert wasted no time taunting her with the secret he hid from her since Mr. Woods’ sad passing. Too late, it was now perfectly clear why he married her.
    Netty tried to stand, wanting to get off the cold damp floor of the woods. Struggling, she doubled over with nausea as cramps painfully contracted her abdomen from the memory of the events that forced her to flee their home in Norristown.
    Her escape came on the heels of the expected appointment of Robert as the new county magistrate. How nice for him , she thought, bitterly. She wondered how he would explain her conspicuous absence at his induction and the subsequent ball he planned at Sunnydale, their 10,000 square foot, Renaissance Revival mansion. Thinking of his lavish spending, she found herself wondering, yet again, where all the money came from. His country lawyer fees could not possibly cover the household expenses, along with the house staff, the office staff and Robert’s outrageous lifestyle. A lifestyle he hid from her during their courtship. Not that she cared. As long as she did not participate in his social affairs, she remained safely out of sight and mind.
    She also developed an aversion to the smell of the harsh spirits imbibed to excess by Robert and his cronies during their constant late night meetings at the carriage house behind the mansion. Meetings that inevitably turned into drunken brawls, often drawing the attentions of the local law enforcement; who then would do what? Well … join in, of course ; so much for enforcing the local laws . Did the police ever bother to wonder where the prohibited alcohol came from? The thought unexpectedly reminded her that she was down to the last few silver coins Mr. Woods pressed into her hands at her wedding. Yes, she encountered many