A Perfect Gentleman(26)

Miss Cooper was still sitting where Matthew had left her when he entered with the tea tray holding four cups. He knew she would try to get her father to drink, but he wanted to make sure Miss Cooper also drank a cup herself. Perkins came forward and took the tray and placed it on a table by the window. Miss Cooper did not even look up from her father. Perkins prepared one cup and handed it to Miss Cooper. “It is how your father prefers his tea.”

She gave a quick nod and accepted the cup. As she blew on it to cool the liquid, Perkins settled himself on the bed and lifted Mr. Cooper. Miss Cooper placed the cup against her father’s lips. “Please, Papa. Drink.”

Mr. Cooper’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at his daughter. With effort he took a few sips before letting his head fall back again.

“Again, Papa.” A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye as she begged and then cajoled her father into taking more sips of tea until the contents were gone. Matthew stood at the end of the bed, grasping the post, his fingers aching from the tight grip with each swallow the man took. This was a good sign. It had to be. The man would recover and Miss Cooper would not be left alone. Matthew couldn’t allow himself to think it would be any other way.

Slowly Perkins lowered Mr. Cooper back against his pillows and adjusted the blanket and Miss Cooper leaned back in her chair and sighed before she glanced up at Matthew with a watery smile.

“He will probably rest for some time now,” Matthew found himself saying. Even though he had very little experience with the sick, he did know that after expending any energy, even just drinking from a cup held to ones lips, left the patient exhausted and they usually slept for a few hours.

“I am just grateful he woke for a short time and drank.” A soft smile came to Miss Cooper’s lips. “Papa will be fine now.”

Matthew wasn’t so certain that was the case, and he argued with himself of whether he should urge caution and in the end held his tongue. He would not take this small bit of peace from her. If her father suffered a setback, he would be there to help and support her.





Grace closed her eyes and relaxed. Her father had awakened and he drank. She had to believe all was well and he would get better now. It would take time, but he would heal. Thank you, she whispered in her mind. Thank you, God for taking care of him.

The clock down the hall chimed and Grace counted each until it stopped after eight. Already the morning was well on its way and she had done nothing but sleep and sit by her father. But what else could she do? He was her first priority. There were things she should see to but she couldn’t even think what they would be right now. All she wanted to do was sleep, rest while her father did, so she was alert when he was.

Someone tapped her shoulder and Grace opened her eyes. Vicar Trent held a steaming cup of tea before her. Perhaps she would be able to think clearer once she drank. She inhaled the aroma and placed the cup to her lip and let the warmth sooth her.

“What of the animals, Miss Cooper?”

Grace looked to Perkins. What was he talking about?

Oh, dear. She straightened and placed her cup on the bedside table. “The cows should have been milked two hours ago. How could I have forgotten?”

“I could send for someone,” Perkins offered.

“There isn’t time.” Grace stood and moved from the room. “Call me if Father wakens.” Without bothering to stop and put on proper shoes or don a cloak, Grace rushed out of the back of the house and practically ran toward the barn. Low mooing could be heard from inside. The cows were probably in pain, waiting to be relieved of their burden. She flung the door open and grabbed the first milk pail. “I am so sorry. I will get to each of you as quickly as I can.”

Grace picked up the stool and placed it beside the first cow, sank down onto it and put the pail in place. A moment later squirts of milk were heard hitting the bottom of the tin bucket.

“Is there anything I could do?”

She glanced up to find Vicar Trent standing in the door. “Have you ever milked a cow?”

He shrugged. “No. Is it difficult?”

It wasn’t really but did she have time to show him? Grace glanced down the line of cows. It would be quicker to teach Vicar Trent than to milk all of the cows herself. “Come here.” She didn’t mean to sound harsh, but she was in a hurry. She wanted to be done with this chore so that she could return to her father.

Grace stood and indicated for Vicar Trent to take a seat. He rubbed his hands together and reached forward but stopped. For the first time in longer than she could remember, Grace felt like smiling, almost giggling. Vicar Trent, the self-assured, composed gentleman that she had come to admire looked as helpless as a child.

“Gently wrap your hands around two teats, but not two that are side by side.”

Vicar Trent seemed to hesitate for a moment before he reached forward. He grabbed and the cow mooed. Just as quickly he let go.

“Gently, but firmly.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“She is probably in more pain full of milk than anything else.”

He took a deep breath, leaned forward and grasped again. At least the cow didn’t make any objectionable sounds this time.

“Now, squeeze, starting at the top of the teat and work your way down, moving the milk out of the udder and into the pail.”

Vicar Trent did so with one teat and then the other. Milk splashed into the pail. He looked up over his shoulder and grinned at her. Grace tried not to laugh. It really was such a simple chore and she had forgotten the joy she felt when she milked her first cow. Silly of course, but it added an odd sense of accomplishment.

“Keep a firm hold so the milk doesn’t flow back into the udder.”

Vicar Trent returned his attention to the cow and continued to milk, going a bit faster each time. “How will I know when it is empty?”

Grace giggled. She wasn’t sure the cow was ever empty. As soon as the milking was complete didn’t the udder start filling once again? She simply assumed they did. “The teat will become small, and almost look empty. When that happens, move to the other two until they are all the same.”

He gave a quick nod and went back to work. Grace grabbed a second stool and pail and settled at the side of the next cow. Soon all that could be heard was milk splashing into pails as they milked one cow and then the next until all had been taken care of. When they were finished, Vicar Trent glanced over at the rows of milk, hands fisted on his hips and a silly grin on his face.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”





Matthew couldn’t believe he had just milked cows. It was simple, easy, yet necessary. For the first time in a very long time he felt as if he had done something good, helpful, that made a difference. Why didn’t his vocation give him this same sense of accomplishment? As a vicar he should feel it more often, yet it was a row of cows that gave him a purpose.

Perhaps it was because he could see the work he had done. As a vicar, you never knew if you reached someone or not. Did they walk away from his sermons as empty as they had arrived? Did he utter some profound words that stayed with a parishioner for a week, until the next sermon? Did he ever inspire anyone to be better for the Lord?

Matthew turned and thrust his fingers through his hair. That was just it. He would never know. Each Sunday would end with him wondering if he had touched or moved anyone that day. And, should it matter. He wasn’t a vicar for praise or recognition. He was to save souls, as simple as that.

He looked at the pails of milk neatly lined up waiting for delivery. Yet, it felt so good to actually see what one had accomplished.

The minutes ticked by yet Miss Cooper had not returned. Where could she have gone? He stepped outside and looked around. She wasn’t anywhere to be found. Perhaps she was checking on her father. Matthew made his way toward the house. Had something happened while she was out here and that was why she hadn’t returned? She wouldn’t just leave the milk sit there would she.

There was silence when he entered the house and Matthew slowly walked to her father’s bedchamber. He was asleep in his bed and there was a bit more color in his cheeks. Without realizing he had been holding his breath, Matthew let out a sigh of relief. Perkins glanced up at him from a chair in the corner where he sat.

“Have you seen Miss Cooper?” Matthew asked.

“No. She hasn’t been in since she practically ran out of here.”

“How is Mr. Cooper?”

“Resting.”

Matthew nodded his head and left the room. He could tell Mr. Cooper was resting but since Perkins offered nothing further Matthew assumed nothing had happened in his absence. But, where was Miss Cooper?

He wandered around the lower portion of the house but she was not here. At the foot of the stairs he glanced up. Had she gone to her room to change? The young woman had bolted out of bed, after sleeping in her clothing, without bothering to change her dress or repair her hair. Not that Matthew minded. He rather liked her disheveled look. It was more honest in appearance than those ladies who spent hours at their toilette to achieve the proper look. And, if she was up there, he certainly could not go up and check on her. That would be highly improper. It was bad enough that he had carried her upstairs last night and tucked her into bed. But nobody would ever learn of that or she would be ruined.