Chapter 41
Kathy paused at the threshold, her hand lingering on the doorframe as she observed the scene unfolding. The morning light slanted through the kitchen windows, catching motes of flour in the air, illuminating the tension between the two women. The older servant’s voice reverberated off the stone walls, sharp and reprimanding, echoing with years of authority. The younger woman, clutching her baby tighter beneath the worn blanket, shrank back, her eyes red and swollen, her cheeks streaked with tears.
Sarah hovered behind Kathy; concern etched across her face. For a moment, Kathy considered intervening, but something in the older servant’s posture—a trembling hand, a flicker of regret in her eyes—held her back. It seemed as if the outburst was as much fear as anger, a desperate attempt to regain control in a kitchen already thrown into disarray.
The baby stirred, a plaintive whimper escaping from beneath the blanket. The young mother soothed them, whispering quiet reassurances, her voice barely audible over the older woman’s tirade. The baby bag on her shoulder slipped, and she caught it instinctively, every motion radiating exhaustion.
Kathy watched as the older servant’s words began to falter, her anger softening as she took in the young woman’s distress. The kitchen, once charged with confrontation, grew still, the only sounds the simmering kettle and the steady, rhythmic breaths of the baby.
After a deep breath, Kathy stepped forward. “Is everything alright here?” she asked, voice gentle but firm. The older woman glanced at her; the lines of worry etched deep into her brow. The young mother lifted her head, blinking away fresh tears.
For a moment, no one spoke. Then, the older servant lowered her gaze, her voice quieter as she muttered, “She’s just arrived, says she needs help. I lost my temper, but—this isn’t the way.”
Kathy nodded, turning her attention to the young woman. “You’re safe here,” she said softly, offering a reassuring smile. “Let’s sit down, have some tea, and talk things through.”
Relief flooded the young mother’s face. Sarah busied herself at the stove, pouring hot water and setting out cups. The older servant retreated to the far end of the kitchen, her shoulders slumped, remorse flickering in her eyes.
As the four sat together, the mood began to shift. The tension ebbed away, replaced by a fragile sense of calm. Outside, the packhouse bustled on, unaware of the minor act of kindness unfolding within. And as Kathy listened to the young woman’s story, she realized that sometimes, all it took to change the course of a day was a little patience—and the willingness to stand back, watch, and wait for the right moment to step in.
“No, this is none of your business,” said the older woman
“It’s my business if you are yelling at a young mother,” said Kathy
“She is late everyone around here has to do her chore, now she is making excuses she doesn’t have a babysitter to watch her half-breed child. Now, that for you that she won’t get paid for today,”
"So, even if she doesn’t have anyone, are you offering to care for the baby?"
“Look here I always have someone watch my children while I am at work, this is not a place for her to bring a half-breed baby here,”
“You say that word again, I will kick your teeth in,”
“He is the entire pack knows about it, that she slept with a vampire,”
“Listen while she is working today I will watch her baby and if there is a problem, I am all ears,”
Kathy took the baby and the bag from the mother so she can stay to work, as the older woman want to have the last word but not today, the baby has reddish hair and blue eyes and was sleeping in her arms.
“Um…I never got your name? My name is Kathy,” said Kathy.
“Oh, my name is Amy, and this is my son Chris is only five days old,”
Kathy wondered why the mother wasn't resting at home, seeing that the baby was only five days old.
Kathy blinked in surprise, glancing over her shoulder at Sarah. The words carried a shiver of the extraordinary, settling between them like a secret thread. “So… that’s why she’s up and about, not curled in bed for weeks like most mothers?” Kathy murmured, adjusting Chris gently in her arms.
Sarah gave a subtle nod, her eyes darting to where Amy was busy at her station, already focused despite the fatigue shadowing her face. “It’s in our blood. Wounds close overnight. Bones knit in hours. Childbirth is hard, but we don’t linger in weakness.”
Kathy watched Amy with new understanding, feeling the warmth of the sleeping infant and the faint hum of something ancient in the air. The murmurs and judgments drifting from the others faded to static, replaced by a quiet respect. “Well,” Kathy said, smiling softly as Chris stirred, “he’s lucky to have a mother strong enough to fight every day, and a pack willing to stand up for him.”
Sarah’s lips curled into a rare grin. “Sometimes strength isn’t just about how fast we heal. It’s about who’s got your back.”
“I will take Chris to my home, my house is next to the packhouse so when you ever finished just come and pick him up, even if you need a break I don’t mind watching him,”
"Are you sure?" Amy asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yes, I am sure I been babysitting infants, toddlers and little children in my younger days. Parents always want me to stay overnight if they need that brief break. I remember I babysit a family of five and trust me I teach them everything even help them with their homework, make sure they did their chore, before they can watch their tablet, and tv. At the end of the night, all the children were in bed and asleep before the parents come home and I would clean up the living room, kitchen and put any leftovers I cook into the fridge so that the parents can heat and eat,”
“Oh wow, that is a lot of work. You see, I don’t mind at all,”
As Kathy finished recounting her years of experience, her voice took on a firmer edge, eyes narrowing as she addressed the older woman who had been watching the exchange. “If I find out you’re giving Amy any trouble—making her do extra work that isn’t hers, or denying her a lunch break—I’ll come back, and it won’t be pretty. Do I make myself clear?”
The older woman cleared her throat, trying to draw their attention as Kathy turned around to face her, meeting her gaze with unwavering resolve. Amy, meanwhile, disappeared to change into her uniform, while Sarah gathered the baby bag, readying for their departure from the kitchen. Kathy lingered for a moment, her stare steady, ensuring her words—and her promise—hung in the air.
Kathy, taking the baby with her walking out of the packhouse, careful walking downstairs while holding the baby, the sun is covered by the clouds, which it means that it is about to rain because the temperature has dropped. Before the downpour began, Kathy rushed to get the baby into the house.