Snowy River: The McGregor Saga (1993) s02e10 Episode Script

The Foundling

1 (serene orchestral music) [Rob.]
Jack Palmer told Dad he had that big old redfin half out of the water, gave him a big smile and then spit the hook back at him.
(men laughing) You don't believe that, do you? Oh, I don't know.
Ben reckons that big old redfin's a bit too smart.
Reckons he'd chew your bait right off the hook.
And snag your line for good measure.
[Colin.]
Dad and his stories.
[Rob.]
Well, you gotta believe in something I suppose.
What do you believe in? Oh, I don't know.
Haven't quite worked that one out yet.
Gotta do a bit of living first, I think.
There's one thing I believe, though.
What's that? I believe I could beat you down to the river.
(grunts) Woo! (upbeat orchestral music) Woo! (Colin shouts) (dramatic orchestral music) It's the local stagecoach.
Tom? Jed? (water babbling) (somber orchestral music) It's Tom Hayes.
(water splashing) (baby cries) Did ya hear that? What? (baby cooing) (water splashing) (baby cooing) (soft orchestral music) (sentimental orchestral music) (soft orchestral music) (crowd chattering) How is she? Doc Daniels seems to think she just needs a bit of rest.
A few bruises, that's all.
What about the baby? Seems all right.
A little boy.
If you see Matt will you tell him that I need to talk to him? I don't think they should stay here.
It's not a suitable environment for a baby.
Well, they could stay in the guest room at Langara.
(horse whinnies) It might be good for Emily, Colin.
(footsteps clunking) - How is she, reverend? - Is the wee baby all right? The baby's still sleeping, but I'm sure he's be all right.
- Do you know who she is, Colin? - No, Jake, she's still in shock.
She hasn't said anything.
Perhaps we should say a prayer for those men that didn't survive.
Tom Hayes, Jed.
Jed Banister.
Good men.
Friends to many of us.
Prayin' ain't gonna bring 'em back.
(somber orchestral music) No, Charlie, no it won't.
Boys.
I just heard.
We're gonna cable the coach company for a passenger list, see if we can find out who she is.
I'll catch up with you.
Um, Kathleen thinks it'd be a good idea for the mother and the baby to stay at Langara.
Yeah, of course.
I was talking to Jed last week.
He made me laugh for the first time since That was Jed.
Is it true? They said there was a baby.
A little boy.
(somber orchestral music) Is he He's all right.
In fact, Kathleen thought it might be a good idea if they come out home to recover.
(baby crying) It'll be only for a few days, Emily.
We have to try and put the miscarriage behind us.
Did you hold him? Let's just leave it.
Do you want me to wait for them to cable us back? No, could take a while.
I'll ask Kathleen to pick it up later.
(horse hooves clomping) (church bell ringing) (somber orchestral music) (baby crying) (soft orchestral music) Come on.
You gotta take something, darling.
(woman groans) Well, hello.
You're in Patterson's Ridge.
My name is Kathleen O'Neil.
I've been looking after you.
The coach.
It crashed into the river.
I thought I was gonna die.
I thought we were all gonna die.
How many of us survived? Just you and your baby.
(baby cooing) [Woman.]
My baby? Oh, he's absolutely fine, not even a scratch.
Just hungry.
All he needs is his mother.
But I don't have a baby.
I'm not even married.
(soft orchestral music) (serene orchestral music) [Danni.]
Aww, he's beautiful.
Be gentle with him.
Here we are.
I'll put him in my room, then.
I didn't know where else to bring him.
She's totally rejected him.
She says she's not the mother.
Well, it must be here baby.
We found them together.
Oh, it doesn't necessarily mean he's hers.
Cabled the passenger list.
Her name is Miss Ruth Whitney and she's an American.
Miss? No mention of a baby.
Well, the child wouldn't be a ticketed passenger.
Do you think the mother could still be out there? We searched everywhere, there's no one else.
There was only one woman on the coach.
Well, maybe the baby was traveling with one of the men.
Not Tom Hayes, and the other passenger was elderly.
Well, then she's lying isn't she? Why would she lie? An unmarried mother.
She doesn't want people to know.
Makes sense.
It'd take more than that for a mother to reject her child.
Well, she could still be suffering from shock.
Or she could be feeling guilty that she was the only one who survived.
No, I think we should give her a bit more time.
Can you manage this baby? Mm, with a little help.
It might be good for Emily, Colin.
(chuckles) We might ride out to the river, have another look just to be sure.
I have a few things to do here.
I might stay.
Well, I'll saddle up, then.
♫ Rock-A-Bye baby on the treetop ♫ When the wind blows the cradle will rock ♫ When the bow breaks the cradle will fall ♫ And down will come baby ♫ Cradle and all (somber orchestral music) (light orchestral music) (metal clanking) Miss Whitney.
Do you think you should be up? I'm fine, really.
This is a newspaper office.
I didn't think the hotel was a good place for you or the baby to be staying.
What's the baby's name? I don't know.
(light orchestral music) I can still hear the screaming.
The coach lurched and then slid off the edge.
And we tumbled over.
The noise as we rolled over and over, I'm I'm never gonna forget that.
Oh, it must've been terrible.
I can remember finding that poor little baby.
You don't believe me, do you? What are we supposed to believe? You were the only woman on the coach.
No! The baby's mother was on the coach.
She was young woman.
There was someone else? Yes, the coach stopped and picked her up miles from nowhere.
She had no luggage, nothing.
Just the baby.
She said her name (sighs exasperatedly) Her name was Brody.
I tried to talk to her, she didn't wanna talk to me.
It's like she was scared of something.
She was running away from someone or something.
So, she stopped the coach in the middle of nowhere.
Yes, I don't know where it was exactly.
It was after the last coach stop.
She was just there on the road.
Why don't you believe me? They brought the bodies back.
There was no young woman.
Well, then they better look again because she is there.
They are looking.
Well, good.
Then they'll find her, won't they? Yes.
If she's there, they'll find her.
(somber orchestral music) [Rob.]
Anything? No.
But I found this king bolt.
Sheared right away.
Horses must have parted just after coming 'round that bend up there.
If there was another woman there would have been more luggage, right? There was no luggage, no body.
There's no one else to find.
I would've already looked there.
Yeah, well, let's look again.
Now listen, nothing fancy.
You understand? I just want you to get in, have a look, and get out.
(rope whistling through the air) (water splashes) (rope thuds) You get in any trouble, I want you to give two tugs on your line (grunts) and I'll pull you out.
If you feel two pulls from me, get out quick.
Sure, Dad.
All right.
Off you go.
(suspenseful orchestral music) (water splashing) Any luck? It's all crushed.
We'll have to try the other side.
Well, just take it easy.
The current's stronger out there.
(suspenseful orchestral music) Come on, Rob.
(rope splashes in the water) (ominous orchestral music) (water splashing) (exhales loudly) It's empty.
There's no one down there.
(breathing heavily) (sentimental orchestral music) Come on, little one, you have to take something.
Come on.
I hate goat's milk.
Well, you're not having it, are you? Neither's he.
(footsteps tapping) Come on, have a drink.
(door clicks) Look, do you want me to warm it up some more? All right, let's try that.
Have you seen the baby? Just heard it crying for its mother, that's all.
I'm sure Kathleen wouldn't mind if you wanted to hold him.
Hold it? Emily, our baby died, we have to face that.
Holding someone else's baby isn't going to bring mine back.
You're not gonna hurt him just by holding him! What happened to us wasn't your fault.
It wasn't anyone's fault.
Emily.
(baby cooing) I can't get him to take anything.
I was hoping you could help me.
(light orchestral music) Do you know that we haven't even given him a name yet.
Maybe you could help think of one.
(baby cooing) Emily.
You'll have to find someone else.
I'm sorry.
You wouldn't have to take care of him all of the time, just I said no.
Don't you understand? (sentimental orchestral music) (light orchestral music) Morning, Miss Whitney.
Rob McGregor.
Of course.
You were there at the river.
I hope you're not feeling too poorly.
I'm feeling fine.
Thank you, Mr.
McGregor.
Rob.
You're the first person to talk to me.
So far everybody else in your town seems content to simply stare.
Is an American such a curiosity here? No, it's because the the baby.
I see.
- I didn't mean to offend you.
- I can assure you, Mr.
McGregor, I am not the mother of that child and I would appreciate it in the general recounting of my dramatic rescue by yourself that you make that point clear.
I wasn't saying [Ruth.]
Good day.
(somber orchestral music) Oh, hello.
'O' and the 'u' in miraculous are transposed.
Oh, yes.
Don't know how I missed that.
Well, I guess I'm gonna be reading all about my miraculous survival.
Oh, you object? Not to the freedom of the press to print the truth.
As long as it is the truth.
It is.
Then the baby's not mine? Not in this edition.
Not in any edition, I can assure you.
I know a little bit about newspapers.
My father owns the Philadelphia Post.
Really? Well, you are a long way from home.
I came to prove a point.
But you've already proven it for me.
Oh, which is? That you don't have to be a man to work on a newspaper.
I take it your father and I wouldn't exactly strike up an easy friendship.
My father believes that a woman's sole purpose is to have children and make men happy.
Well, couldn't you have tried to change his mind a little closer to home? I tried.
Father knows everyone in the newspaper business and they all know him, so I thought if I could just, if I could go to Australia and write some pioneering stories thanthe just couldn't ignore me any longer.
Don't count on it, he is a man.
You look like you could use some help.
Oh, my editor Mr.
Gleason and my son are away in Melbourne.
I know how to lay out a page.
Composite it? The compositors on the Post used to let me help when father wasn't there.
I don't transpose letters and I'm an excellent proofreader.
So I've noticed.
So I get the job? There isn't a job.
I'm just not looking for anyone.
Well, just don't say no yet.
All right.
Yeah, I'll think about it.
(light orchestral music) [Colin.]
We need anything in town? Oh, no thanks.
Rob's already gone.
Kathleen told me about Emily and the problems this baby's causing.
Look, I plan to No, this is something that the two of you have to work through together.
I just want you to know that if you need me, you or Emily, I'm here.
Look, I haven't been sure of many things over the past few days, Dad, but, (chuckles) well, I never doubted that.
Well, if you wanna talk about something we can (footsteps clunking) Fine morning, Emily.
Yes.
(exhales) You were talking about me, weren't you? Well, he's concerned.
About you? About us.
(tongue clicks) (somber orchestral music) Whoa, whoa.
Are these the only dresses that you have? I'm sorry, no new stock due now until spring.
Got some fine bolts of cloth if you can turn your hand to needlework.
Needlework is not one of my strengths, I'm afraid.
Good morning, Mrs.
McGregor.
Well, Mrs.
McGregor is a fine seamstress.
Best in Patterson's Ridge.
Do you think she'd mi Mrs.
McGregor, I was just telling the young lady what a fine seamstress you are.
She's in need of some urgent dress makin'.
Lost most of what she had in the coach accident.
[Ruth.]
Pleased to meet you, Mrs.
McGregor.
Oh, how could you do such a terrible thing? Excuse me? No.
How could anyone abandon their own child? Mrs.
McGregor, it's not my child.
How could you do that to your own baby? This isn't the place, I'm sorry.
Tell me how you can do that! Mrs.
McGregor, it's not my baby.
There was another woman on the coach.
No, no one believes that.
There was only you! You abandoned him.
You disowned him! You deserted your own baby! (somber orchestral music) I think you've said enough.
We have to accept God's will.
Nothing you say will bring our baby back.
What sort of God takes my baby away from me and gives it to her? Yes, Emily placed so much importance on that first baby that when she had the miscarriage it was as if she lost, well, lost the one thing that she wanted more than anything else.
And now she can't seem to come to terms with it.
Well, I can understand how she must feel if she thinks the baby's mine and I don't want it.
Guess I won't be staying here long.
- Oh, you can't leave until - Until what, Kathleen? Until I admit the baby is mine? What do I have to do? What do I have to say to you? It's not my baby.
Where will you go? I don't know.
I was on my way to Melbourne.
I guess it depends on where I can find work.
I could put you on here part time.
Part time only as long as you're willing to do anything.
I mean typesetting, reporting, layouts, sweeping the floor if you have to.
Or you could stay here until Mr.
Gleason gets back, if you'd like.
When can I start? Now! Here, oh, public notices.
(thunder rumbles) (rain patters) I think she could go a long way.
Well, Melbourne wouldn't be far enough.
I met her in the street.
She's certainly not shy about speaking her mind.
It's just what this town needs, Rob, more women who speak their mind.
Well, I hear she's a fine looking woman.
So what? Come on Rob, don't tell me you didn't notice.
All right, so she's pretty.
[Matt.]
Well, if she stays on you could invite her to the Harvest Ball next month.
[Rob.]
Dad.
What about the baby? What's going to happen to the baby? Well, if no relatives come forward, I suppose the child'll have to be adopted out to a good family.
I'm sorry, I can't do this.
[Matt.]
Colin? Pretending that this is somehow part of some divine plan that I can comfort and convince people that ours is a merciful God when all they see is suffering and wasted lives.
I mean, Jed Banister has two small girls.
And Tom.
What do I say to their families? Now listen, son.
How do I tell them that our merciful God could ordain this suffering? And what sort of comfort can I give the heartbreak of those two little girls who have lost their father? And what sort of comfort can I take from a God who could leave that baby without a mother? And take our baby before we even had a chance to hold it.
(somber orchestral music) I'm sorry, Dad.
[Matt.]
Colin.
[Emily.]
Colin? (door slams) (baby crying) (sentimental orchestral music) (baby cooing) (light orchestral music) [Matt.]
Morning.
Morning, Matt.
How are you? I'm fine.
(saw hissing) Um, excuse me.
You trying to wear that saw out? Or yourself? If I work, I don't have to think.
Think what? That it's your fault.
That you failed.
I have failed.
I was put to the test and I failed.
You've gotta stop doing that to yourself.
You have to talk this thing through.
Every morning, every night down on my knees I've talked this thing through.
It's all been said.
There's nothing left to say.
(somber orchestral music) (saw hissing) [Kathleen.]
How's Colin? No good.
Well, I spoke to Emily.
She's about the same.
I thought he'd be strong enough to carry her through all this.
Ruth's not the kind of woman to reject her own baby, is she? No.
This isn't her son, Matt.
Then the mother's still out there, somewhere.
You've looked.
Yeah, the current gets stronger mid-river, maybe we didn't look far enough.
Maybe she was washed up further down, I don't know.
And if you don't find anyone, what then? Well, like you said, he's put up for adoption.
(baby coos) Emily and Colin.
Could be the only good that comes out of all this.
You think they would? If we know that the baby really has been orphaned, then I think there's a strong possibility.
Well, I hope you're right.
For their sake and for his.
(horse hooves clomping) (dog barking) I thought I'd try my hand at an editorial.
I hope you don't mind.
Well, I'm sure Mr.
Gleason would.
But lucky for you he's not here.
(somber orchestral music) Welp, we'll work our way down as far as Scott's Bridge.
We'll be here all night.
Well, you can always go back and muck out those stables.
Let's go.
(tongue clicks) (light orchestral music) Every night I lie beside Emily as she cries herself to sleep.
There's nothing that I can say or do to comfort her.
There's nothing.
All the time I was reassuring myself that at least I was coping by keeping my faith in the belief that God had a plan.
Then the coach crashed.
There's no plan.
Oh.
Well, I'd like you to read this.
"Death came as death comes, when it's least expected.
"It came on a sunny day above a sparkling river "near the end of a long journey.
"It came amidst the laughter and friendship "of new found friends.
"It came as a baby slept in his mother's arms.
"Who knows why death chose some and left others unscathed "to mourn and wonder at their fate.
"Why the best of men were taken "and a newborn baby saved, motherless.
"To a town where aching hearts still grieved "over the loss of an unborn child.
"Death is unjust and life unfair "and all we who remain can do is lay our trust "in God, in ourselves, in family and friends, "and share the sad burden of their passing.
"And by so sharing gather the strength "to raise our eyes and look to the light of the new day.
" (sentimental orchestral music) (knocking on wood) [Colin.]
Hello.
Hello.
Kathleen, Mrs.
O'Neil, told me about the child you lost.
I can only imagine what you and your wife must be going through.
I have just read the editorial you wrote.
I hope you don't mind.
No, no, I hope it didn't upset you.
No.
No, on the contrary.
For the first time I can see things much more clearly.
My mother used to say that the harder you look for something, the harder it is to find.
I guess sometimes there are no answers.
Thank you.
(somber orchestral music) (horse hooves clomping) Rob! What is it? (dramatic orchestral music) (birds chirping) (dog barking) I've already said what I wanted to say to her.
You don't have to say anything, just listen to her.
After what she did to the baby? It's not her baby.
She's got you believing it now, has she? Will you read this for me? (dog barking) Well, they're here.
If you won't do it for yourself, then would you please do it for me? Please.
Did he take much milk? No.
(footsteps clomping) May I help you with that? If you like.
Emily, I'm so sorry you lost your baby.
I don't know why such things happen.
But I do know that the mother of this baby loved him dearly.
I could tell just by the way she looked at him.
And I know she would want someone to take care of him who could give him all the love that she did.
He needs a mother, Emily.
(baby cooing) (light orchestral music) [Danni.]
Emily, do you want to try? (horse hooves clomping) Well, that's far enough.
Should we go back? Yep, let's go back.
Help! (water splashing) My baby! Please help me find my baby! Help! (crying) (dramatic orchestral music) (baby cooing) Is he all right? Yes.
(horse hooves clomping) (dog barking) [Colin.]
Thanks, Dad.
If we can keep him, I'm going to call him Jeremy.
What is it? We found the baby's mother.
She's alive.
(somber orchestral music) (baby cooing) It's all right.
Did you hear that, little one? You're going home.
(light orchestral music) (wagon rattling) Welp, I'll go get her.
[Colin.]
How is she? Half drowned.
Well, three days and two nights out there and she's only got a few scratches.
The doctor thinks she must be the luckiest woman in the world.
Oh, not luck.
Maybe a miracle, though.
(chuckles) Yeah.
Emily.
Daniel.
(sentimental orchestral music) Thank you.
I love you.
You know, when we're a little bit older we'll be sitting on a veranda watching our children.
And we'll try and count them.
(horse grunts) Oh, sorry! Would you watch where you're going? I was just You were just not watching where you were going.
No, I was just reading your article.
It's very, um Emotional.
(chuckles) Thank you.
Well, at least I think it's your article.
It says it was written by Jack Holbright.
I'm sending it to my father in Philadelphia.
He's going to get to read everything that Jack Holbright writes.
And then one day I'm going to show up at his office and I'm gonna tell his assistant that Jack Holbright is there to see him, and my father is gonna rush out expecting to meet this famous writer and instead he's gonna find me waiting for him.
And then he's gonna have to admit that women can write just as well as men can.
So, what do you think? It won't work.
He'll guess.
And why will he guess? Well, men don't write like this.
Like what? Emotional.
Oh, they do, they do.
Backwoodsmen like yourself just don't read them, that's all.
(chuckles) I'm not a backwoodsman.
There's a very humorous cartoon on the back.
Let me know if you don't understand it.
Why, was it written by a woman as well? (upbeat orchestral music) Obviously written by a woman.
(sentimental orchestral music)
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