“Who are you?” A redheaded woman asked. I assumed she was speaking to me.
“My name’s Angelica.”
I found myself in what seemed like a kitchen or dining room with a large hearth at its center. The woman was grinding herbs with a mortal and pestle.
“You’re not going to tell are you?” she asked.
“Tell? Tell who and what?” I looked around and saw in the reflection of a glass cabinet that my long hair was twisted up in a bun. It’s usual tawny color was brown, and I wore a woolen dress that reached the floor. The fabric irritated my skin. I held a long cloak in my left hand. The young woman wore almost an identical garment, but the fabric looked finer.
“I have to get these herbs ready, the lass down the road is going to have her baby any day. Are you the woman Abby told me about from the neighboring village?”
“I…uh…yes. Abby sent me. Jenny is going to have her baby?” I placed the coat down on a chair and walked toward the fire to warm up. My hands and feet were cold and I noticed melting snow on the floor near the front door. The winds howled outside, but the house was warm and smelled of dried herbs and blueberries.
“No. Jenny moved to South Carolina. I’m so glad you made it, especially in this storm. There’s already a few inches of snow on the ground. Poor Abby came down with a fever, she said you were the best healer in your village.”
My eyes widened as I looked over to the young woman. “I…I try, people tell me I do help them.”
“And you’re so young to be a mid-wife.”
I stood there staring at the fire. I had no outward response, but fear settled in my bones. My mind rushed in a million directions.