Chapter 14.

By the time Hally emerged from the bedroom, blinking, it was mid-morning, and Violet had just put all four children down for a morning nap, not just the two littlest, for she deemed that it had been an exciting and exhausting night for the older ones as well, and they needed to catch up on their growing sleep. In the quiet that resulted, she was rolling out pastry for a meat pie for the noontide meal. Dried venison and cut up potatoes were simmering in a small pot of water, and chopped onions and carrots, dusted with herbs, sat in a pile on a plate, waiting for the final assembly. She’d built a fire in one of the ovens, and as soon as it was ready, she planned to pop in the pie, and then put her head down for a rest.

‘There you are!’ she said to Hally. ‘Does Rosie need anything?’

‘She’s sleeping, as is the babe,’ Hally said. Violet knew him as a hobbit of few words, who almost never said more than was needed, and would not employ two or three words when one would do. She would have been very surprised to see his effusive greetings for the Men, on their first visit to the little smial on cleaning day, and again when they sought him out in the Wood on the previous day, Rosemary’s baking day, though they’d tried to make it look like an accidental meeting.

‘Well, that’s good,’ Violet said. ‘She was able to nurse him a little, not long ago, but you didn’t waken.’ She went on to tell him that she’d stay at least through the morrow, and depart the day after, and that Robin had milked the goats when he’d awakened, and done his other chores without being asked, and Parsley had helped to dress and feed the little ones, and they’d done the washing up together and played quietly until she’d put them all down for a nap, and...

Hally nodded and seemed to be listening while he moved to the hearth, checking the amount of split logs in the woodbin, and then he checked the buckets and seeing that the level of water was low, he picked them up and carried them out without another word, just as Violet reached naptime in her narrative. He proceeded to haul water from the spring, and then went out again, and soon Violet heard the sound of his axe, chopping. He was quick and efficient about it, and before long he brought in several armloads of wood, filled the woodbin to overflowing, swept out the hearth, and built a fresh fire.

During this time, Violet finished rolling out the pastry, lined a pie shell, filled it with the vegetables and potato-thickened meat sauce, topped it, and cut some fancy shapes to let out steam and prettify the pie for Rosie’s sake, to tempt the new mother’s appetite. By the time the little fire was burning cheerily on the hearth, the pie was beginning to send out good smells, into the smial.

‘Well now,’ she said to Hally, who had washed and dried his hands and now picked up his cap, preparatory to going out of the smial for whatever purpose. ‘That’ll make a fine noontide meal… I thought I’d cut up some cheese and apples for elevenses, with a few of those fine scones your wife baked yesterday...’

‘Mph,’ Hally said, fingering his cap, and then he went out the door.

Violet shook her head at him, after the door closed behind him. It was no more, and no less than she expected. Hally would exchange pleasantries with Ches or other hobbits of his acquaintance, and could be quite cheerful with the children, but he was reticent to the point of shyness with mums and maids. She wondered how he’d ever managed to put enough words together to ask Rosie to marry him!

It was off-putting, that’s what it was, and made it awkward for her to ask him about the actions of the ruffians yesterday, gathering so much from the Bolgers -- that wasn’t surprising -- but then putting it all back again! And what had the scar-faced Man meant, when he’d said Rosie had promised them teacakes?

Hally was gone for some time, and Violet fretted, for she was certain he’d gone out to his woodcutting, and she’d meant to ask him to carry a message to her family, that all was well with herself, the ruffians had taken themselves off, and that she planned to stay for a few days to make sure that all was well with Rosie. She wasn’t expecting any of the other mums of her acquaintance to enter their confinement this week, at least, but if any needed her, they could seek for her here.

But when Hally returned, in time for the noontide meal, grinning at his children’s cheers, she didn’t have the chance to ask him. No, for the first words out of his mouth were, ‘Ches says all’s well...’ and she realised that he’d been to her family and back again and had likely said all that needed saying, into the bargain!

Violet found no satisfaction that day, at least, not from Hally, nor from Rosie. The hobbit was as sparing of his words as always, even in the face of miraculous new life -- though he murmured endearments a-plenty to said wife and babe, and smiled a great deal at his other children, and even told them a long bed-time tale that evening before tucking them up in their beds. However, he had very little to say to Violet, contenting himself with smiles and nods, for the most part, or perhaps a shrug in response to a direct question on Violet’s part, if a nod or smile or simple gesture wouldn’t do.

Rosie, of course, was exhausted and spent most of the day and following night in restoring sleep, except when roused to nurse the babe, or take food or water herself. Hally made himself a bed on the hearth in the main room, so that Violet could lie herself down on the big bed beside Rose, to sleep a little and to watch over the new mum, to waken her to nurse if the babe didn’t waken, in these very early days, while Rosie was still recovering from her efforts, and before the babe established a regular time for eating.

In the morning, Rosemary was awake for longer periods, gaining strength in her limbs -- able to sit up longer than the previous day, without growing quickly weary -- and colour in her face, and Violet’s worries began to subside. ‘You’re on the mend, my dear,’ she said that afternoon, after the babe had nursed himself full and was sleeping again, and the two mums were admiring his tiny eyelashes and perfect fingernails. ‘It was a hard birth, this one was, and no wonder! With those awful Men in the smial, making you slave and cook for them, and in your condition…!’

But Rosie was looking at her with open mouth and wide eyes, and when Violet stopped, she said, ‘But they’re not awful at all! They were very kind…!’

‘Barging in on you like that...’

‘They were invited guests,’ Rosemary said. ‘Didn’t Hally tell you?’

‘He did say something to that effect,’ Violet answered, ‘though of course you know he says so little, sometimes it’s hard to make out what he’s on about. I could hardly credit it, and thought I must have heard wrong. But then the thieving!  ...and gathering…!’

‘But Hally said it was all a mistake, and they put it all back where they’d got it,’ Rosemary said in mild surprise.

‘A mistake!’ Violet said, and put out her hand to feel for childbed fever, but though the colour had returned to Rosie’s cheeks, it was not the flush of fever. However, she judged that the conversation had gone far enough, and Rosie was looking tired, so she sighed and desisted. ‘Well now, perhaps,’ she said, to mollify the new mother. ‘And now I think it’s time for you to sleep again.’

That evening, instead of a bedtime story, while Rosemary slept and Violet sat to one side in Rosemary’s rocking chair, listening and mending a tear in Robin’s breeches, Hally and the children talked about naming the new baby. ‘You know we haven’t followed the Bolger tradition,’ Hally said, and Robin nodded.

‘That’s right, Papa!’ little Parsley said brightly. ‘Or Robin would be named...’ she giggled, ‘Gundagar! And Buckthorn would be...’

‘Halagar!’ Robin whisper-shouted, and there was a general laugh.

Violet did not join the laugh -- the names were perfectly fine names, as far as she was concerned, and very traditional amongst the Bolgers of the Woody End, such as Gundy’s family, as well as north to Bridgefields.

‘And so your little brother ought to be...’ Haldi said, and waited.

‘Andagar?’ Parsley said at last, her little face screwed up in a puzzle.

‘No, no, you’ve another Uncle, though he married and found a home with his wife’s family in Haysend, where your Mama lived when I married her, do you remember? Some day we’ll go to visit them...’

‘Barabar!’ Robin said in triumph. ‘Uncle Barry! And so the babe would be Baragar, to be named for him… But he won’t be, any more than I was named for Uncle Gundy, will he?’

‘Ah, but when you were born, Robin, we were still cut off from our families...’ Hally said.

‘Because you stole Mama from her family!’ Robin whispered, his eyes enormous. ‘Right from under their noses!’

‘Not that I would encourage you to follow my example in your wooing,’ Hally warned, as if he suddenly remembered Violet’s presence. He smiled in the midwife’s direction, but his eyes did not meet hers, and the smile was more of a grimace.

Violet remembered some sort of scandal, hushed up by the family, and not spoken of -- a time when Gundy and Hally had not spoken a word to each other for months -- though they’d made up again, and Gundy and his brothers had helped Hally to build this little house when he brought his bride home from Buckland.

Still, there was an old saying, Does anything good come out of Buckland? It was a Tookish saying, dating from some old disagreement between the Tooks and the Brandybucks -- and scarcely ever heard round these parts, now that the Tooks were keeping close inside the Tookland, but Violet began to wonder if there might be something to it. She blinked a little, troubled by her thoughts. Rosie was such a sweet lass, and their children were willing and eager to please, and Hally was polite enough, though slow to speak, and yet…

That night Rose awakened in the night at the stirring of the babe, though Violet forestalled her from getting up to deal with nappies and such. ‘You just stay right there in the bed and I’ll bring him to you, all clean and comfy!’

‘But I need to get up,’ Rosemary said in a mild tone, and Violet took her meaning quickly, and told her to stay right there, just for a moment, and called Hally from his rest by the hearth in the main room.

‘Here, you can change a nappie, I’m sure, after four little ones...’

Hally simply nodded and held out his hands for the babe, without a word for Violet, though he smiled into the tiny face and cooed some nonsense or other as he turned away.

Not for the first time, Violet wondered if perhaps the hobbit were simple-minded. But there was no time for pondering -- Rosie needed easing, and so she helped the new mum out of the bed -- still wobbly on her legs, enough that Violet deemed that the chamber pot was the best solution for the moment. It was a good time to check Rosie’s condition, and with relief Violet pronounced that she was “healing well, another day of rest and perhaps just a little walking to strengthen you, and then you may get up -- but no work for a week!”

She asked if they planned to hire someone to cook and clean for the first week or two, but Rosie shook her head. ‘We’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Hally likes to keep to himself, you know. Having to listen to another voice, and come up with answers to more questions, would drive him to distraction!’

Violet raised an eyebrow at this, but she had to admit that these Bolgers seemed to prefer solitude -- they lived farther away from Stock than anyone else of her acquaintance, as far in the Wood as might be, and still able to come into town for Market without making it an all-day affair to travel there and back again. She didn’t stop to consider that this was the parcel of land Hally had earned for his work on a commission from Mistress Lalia of the Tooks, and so he had little choice in the matter of where he set up his home, short of selling the parcel at a low price -- being so far out of the town -- and buying another, closer in, for more money.

When Rose was tucked up in the bed once more, Hally brought the babe, and stayed to watch over wife and new babe as Rosie nursed, until the babe finished, and then he kissed each one in turn and returned to his pallet by the fire. Violet laid herself down, but sleep did not come immediately. She wondered: Was Hally right in the head?

But then, Rosie seemed to take everything with calm and cheer, so she might be imagining things. Unless Rose, herself, was somewhat simple -- or perhaps only blind to the faults of others…? Violet honestly could not recall ever hearing a cross word from her.

When morning came, she allowed Rose to get up and sit in the rocking chair by the kitchen hearth, while she stirred up breakfast. Robin and Parsley were well trained, washing and dressing themselves and caring for their littler brother and sister. When Hally would have brought Rosemary her plate, the latter insisted on joining the others at table.

‘Well then, that’s fine!’ Violet said. ‘I think I might be able to go home today, in time for tea, but only if...’ She looked hard at Rose. ‘You’re not going to overdo, and undo all my good work, I hope!’

Rosemary laughed. ‘Hally won’t let me!’ she said. ‘Why, when Lavvy was born, he wouldn’t let me lift a finger for nearly a month! He and Robin and Parsley did all the washing and cooking and washing up and sweeping… I felt like a fine lady in one of the Great families, surrounded by servants!’

‘Good!’ Violet said, with a firm nod. If Hally wouldn’t hire help for his wife’s benefit, at least he made sure her needs were looked after by himself. It must be a lonely life, out here in the End of the Wood… she thought to herself, but Rosie looked happy and content, sitting at the table, surrounded by her children (all but the sleeping babe), with her husband filling her teacup whenever it dipped past half-empty.

‘D’you think the Men will come today?’ Robin asked, in the middle of the breakfast conversation. Everyone stopped talking for a moment, but then Hally laughed and ruffled his young son’s hair.

‘No, but Scar said they’d not be back for a fortnight, for he didn’t want your mum to overdo herself, so soon after the babe was born.’

To Violet’s astonishment, the children looked disappointed. ‘Bracken taught me how to whistle!’ Robin said. ‘I’ve been practicing, and practicing, and I’ve nearly got it!’ He demonstrated by pursing his lips and giving a little, hollow sound. ‘I wanted to show him...’

‘Well, then, you’ll just show him in a few days more than a week,’ Hally said.

‘Poor, lonely lad,’ Rosemary said. ‘D’you know, Robin, he told me you reminded him of his littler brother, that he left at home when he came in search of his fortune?’

‘In search of his fortune!’ Violet said, aghast. ‘In search of Shirefolks’ fortunes, I should say!’

‘They may be a bit misguided,’ Rosemary said. ‘I dare say that being so misunderstood makes them out of sorts… How would you feel, if people were unwelcoming every which way you turned?’

Violet was taken aback at being put in the wrong, when it was the Men who were bullying and harassing and… and… yes, they were thieving! ...though they put a pretty name on it, “gathering”, and said it was for the benefit of the poor. They were making more poor, than they were relieving, and she said as much.

The children’s eyes were enormous, and Rose’s face lost colour, and Violet saw that she’d gone too far, been a little too free in airing her opinions, and she quickly arose and hugged the hobbit mum, with a few solicitous clucks. ‘But you’ve tired yourself,’ she said. ‘Come, let us tuck you up in the bed, and I’m sure Hally will be happy to bring you another cup of tea there.’

‘I will!’ Hally said, making no reference to Violet’s recent criticisms, not then, and not at any time later in the day.

When at last she took her leave, Hally made sure Rosemary was asleep, and set Robin to guard her and fetch anything she might need if she wakened, and convey his orders that she was not to stir foot out of the bed until he returned. ‘I’ll see you home,’ he said to Violet, and did.

As they walked, Violet tried to bring up the topic of Lotho’s Men, several times, but Hally wasn’t having any. He simply grunted, or shrugged, in answer to every verbal venture on the midwife’s part. He was cheerful enough when Ches greeted them, upon their arrival, and thanked him for sparing Violet for a few days, to make sure Rose was “all right again” before leaving the Bolgers’. But when he turned to Violet, he was all shyness once more, looking down at his feet as a much younger hobbit might, and stammering his thanks.

Violet made the appropriate response to him and said her farewells, hugged her husband and children, allowed herself to be drawn into the smial where tea was nearly ready, but she couldn’t resist a glance back over her shoulder at Hally’s retreating back.

The hobbit was simple-minded, she was sure of it. And his wife, sweet Rosie, was too kind-hearted for her own good. No good would come of it. She was certain of that.