by Vivi Holt
Tripp nodded and sprinted toward the cottage, soon returning with a cup in his hand, water sloshing over the sides as he ran. Right behind him was Holly, her skirts swishing around her pumping legs. “Are you all right?” she cried, kneeling in the dirt beside him and taking his hands in hers.
Kurt sighed and extracted his undamaged hand to lay it gently on her head. He stroked her golden hair, feeling a longing he’d never before experienced. “I’ll be just fine. A snake in the grass bit me, but Tripp cut out the poison. He was a big help.” He grinned at Tripp over Holly’s bowed head, and the boy’s cheeks flushed red.
Holly turned to face her son. “Is that so? Well, I’m grateful you were here, son.”
Tripp ducked his head and scuffed a boot in the dirt.
Kurt took the cup of water from Tripp, rinsed his mouth and spat on the ground again. “Thanks.” Tripp nodded as Kurt gave him back the cup.
“I’ll get you a bandage,” said Holly, standing to her feet.
“Just a moment. Do you think you could help me into the house?” Kurt’s pulse raced. He knew the chances of being killed by a copperhead’s bite were slim, but it could make you wish you were dead. Already he could feel the snake’s venom making its way through his body. He began to shiver as chills ran over his skin.
Holly nodded and helped him to his feet. He slung his arm over her shoulder and walked to the cottage with her help. He chuckled to himself – he knew he could’ve made it alone, but he was enjoying the opportunity to be so close to Holly.
Inside, she helped him into a chair, then bent to remove his boots. “I’m sorry about tracking mud through the house,” he told her
She shrugged and smiled. “Nothing a mop and bucket won’t fix. Are you feeling all right?”
He swallowed hard. Heat and searing pain radiated from his hand up his arm. The poison working its way through him felt like a steam engine that couldn’t be stopped. “It smarts some.”
Holly stood and wiped her palms on her apron. “Sarah! Heather!” she called, her voice ringing through the cottage.
The two girls dashed in from the bedroom, pine cone dolls in their hands. “Yes, Ma?” asked Sarah.
“Sarah, please boil some water on the stove. Heather, could you fetch the bag of clean rags?”
The two girls nodded and hurried to comply. Holly headed for the back door. “Where are you going?” asked Kurt, his wounded hand throbbing.
“There’s an elderberry bush out by the barn. I’m going to harvest some leaves and berries for you. They’ll help with the pain.” She disappeared through the door with a rustle of skirts as his head fall back on the chair.
Sarah returned after putting the kettle on the stove to boil. She stood staring at him with wide eyes and a nervous frown, seeming unsure of what to say. “Snakebite,” he informed her with a wry grin, and she nodded. Heather joined them, a small bag in her arms, and whispered to her sister before she too turned to stare at him.
Holly burst back in through the door, holding the edges of her apron up, then headed straight to the table and dumped a bunch of green leaves and berries on its surface. She rummaged beneath the table, found a pot and set it on the stove beside the kettle, then added the berries and water from the pitcher.
Finally done with that, she turned her attention to Kurt, Sarah and Heather. “Thank you, girls,” she said with a quick smile and took the bag from Heather, who went to bring her mother the kettle. Holly poured some boiling water into a bowl, wet a rag with it and knelt again beside Kurt. “Your hand, please,” she requested. Her voice was gentle, and when she caught his gaze her eyes crinkled around the edges. She took his hand and he flinched in anticipation of pain, but her touch was light as a feather.
She wiped the cut clean with the cloth, rinsing the rag several times until the water was pink from the blood. She extracted another cloth from the bag, laid it across her lap and grasped a handful of elderberry leaves from the tabletop. “These should help you feel a little better,” she explained as she laid the leaves one by one across the wound, then wrapped the cloth around his hand to secure them. “And I’ll make a tonic from the berries for you to drink as well.”
Kurt held his breath and watched Holly while she worked. There was a crease between her eyebrows that spoke of concentration, and he wished he could kiss it. But she’d never given any indication that she wanted to be kissed, let alone there. Should he wait for that? They were married, but he didn’t want to push her into something before she was ready.
How long might that take? He had so little experience with women. He’d courted one back in Mount Vernon, but she’d gotten engaged to someone else, and he’d never had a chance to kiss her. He’d been hurt, confused, and left with no more an idea of how to win a woman’s heart than he’d had before.
“All done,” said Holly, using the arm of the chair to push herself to her feet.
“Thank you,” he replied, even as nausea made him wince. “I think I might be sick.” Holly ran for the kitchen, but it was too late - he lost his breakfast all over the floor with one great heave. The two girls jumped back out of the way, their mouths agape in horror. “Sorry,” he grunted.
Holly returned with a bucket. “Never mind, I’ll take care of it. But I wonder if we shouldn’t go for the doctor?”
“No need … just a copperhead. I’m sure I’ll feel fine in no time …”
“Still …,” She wiped his beard and mouth with a wet rag, her face drawn.
“Who would go?” he asked. He knew he couldn’t ride nor drive a wagon, the way he felt.
“I’ll send Tripp.”
He thought a moment. “Fine, if you think the boy’s up to it.” He wasn’t used to having people take care of him. It felt strange and endearing at the same time.
She nodded. “Sarah, fetch Tripp and tell him to ride to town for the doctor.”
“But Ma, Tripp doesn’t know how to ride,” Sarah objected.
“He may not be a confident rider, but he’s learned how to saddle a horse and ride well enough over the last few weeks. Go.”
Sarah went, and Holly turned to her sister. “Heather, I need more water. Will you fetch me some more from the creek, please?” She held out the bucket, and Heather took it and followed her sister outside. “Now, Kurt, let’s get you into bed.”
He liked the way his name sounded on her tongue. "Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.
She leaned down to offer him her shoulder for support. He stood, looped his arm around her shoulders, and together they made it to the bedroom, where he fell on the bed with a gasp and a crackle of dry straw. She looked at him, hands on her hips, wisps of hair flying around her pretty face, her blue eyes flashing. “Don’t call me ‘Ma’am’,” she said before walking out.
Kurt closed his eyes, wishing he had the strength to laugh.
By the time Tripp returned from town with Dr. White, Kurt had been asleep for hours, tossing and turning on the straw tick. Holly showed the doctor into the bedroom. “Thank you for coming, Dr. White. He says he was bitten by a copperhead and he was sure he’d be fine, but he vomited, and he’s been sleeping since Tripp left to fetch you.” She wrung her hands, her brow furrowed.
She’d carried on taking care of the house and the children since Tripp disappeared down the long winding drive on Sam’s sturdy back. But she was tense the whole time. Kurt wasn’t getting any better. Tripp had only taken the trail to town in the wagon a few times, never on a horse. Every noise made her heart drop into her stomach, every small annoyance caused her to snap at the children in aggravation. When Tripp finally returned successfully with the doctor, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry with relief.
Now she watched as Dr. White woke and examined Kurt. When he was done, he ushered her from the room, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “It looks as if Kurt has developed an infection along with the bite.”
Holly’s throat tightened. “What can we do?”
“Honestly, there’s not much we can do
. Have him drink plenty of water, rest and hope for the best. I’m not sure what else would be of benefit in this situation. He says he sucked out the poison, and he’s talking and aware of what’s going on, but his temperature’s high.”
“I’m making an elderberry wine and there’s a willow tree - I could make some willow-bark tea for the fever.” Her mind raced. What would happen to them if Kurt died? Her heart fell at the thought – how could she go on?
Dr. White nodded. “He’ll need you most over the next day. By then you should know which way things will turn.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He nodded. “Sorry there wasn’t more I could do – Sally May Watkins is having her first child down yonder, and I promised her I’d be there …” He tipped his hat and hurried out the door past Tripp, who was standing outside with his hands clenched in front of him.
Tripp watched him go, then stepped inside. “Ma?”
“He’s going to be all right, Tripp. You were very brave going after the doctor that way. I’m proud of you, son.” She gave him a hug.
He ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “But if he dies …”
“He’s not going to die. The doctor says he’ll be just fine – he has an infection and needs to rest awhile, that’s all.” She wasn’t entirely convinced herself, but she didn’t need to worry her young son over Kurt’s well-being, especially after losing his father. Her eyes sparked with tears.
“All right, Ma.”
“It’ll be dark before long. Do you think you could do the chores for Kurt?” She wiped her eyes dry with her sleeve.
“Yes, Ma.” He pulled himself free of her embrace and hurried out toward the barn, wiping his cheeks as he went.
Holly watched him go and smiled through her tears, thoughts spinning in her head.
11
Holly stared out the front window of the cottage, watching Kurt sit on a fallen log a hundred yards from the barn. According to Kurt, the oak had been split in two by a lightning strike years earlier, and half the tree still lay inert on the ground. He sawed a piece off for firewood occasionally, but mostly he liked to sit on it at night and stare up at the stars like he was doing now.
It was three days since the snake bit him, and he’d recovered just as the doctor said he would. She hadn’t slept a wink that night – staying by his bedside, bathing his forehead with a damp cloth, trying to get him to drink water or willow-bark tea whenever she could. Then at noon the following day, he’d sat up and asked for something to eat. Her relief was instantaneous. Even the children, who’d been tiptoeing around the place while Kurt was ill, broke into shouts and squeals the moment he recovered. It was a happy day.
Yet now here he was, staring up at the black sky. She frowned – was he upset about something? Did he want to be alone? She understood that feeling, since she never got the chance herself.
She sighed, took the dishcloth off her shoulder and wandered back to the kitchen table. The children were all in bed, the older ones whispering to each other, Eleanor and Edward sound asleep. She was grateful the little ones had learned to sleep through their siblings’ constant noise. Now what? The dishes had been wiped and put away. The fire glowed faintly in the hearth, already banked.
She blew out the candle she’d lit on the mantle, turned and marched outside. If he was so unhappy he needed to leave the house just to get away from her, she wanted to hear it from his lips. She was sick of fretting, of being scared they’d ruined his life, of worrying he’d send them all packing if she did something wrong or if one of the children got into mischief. It was time she asked him how he really felt. If he wanted them to leave, better she should know now.
But when she reached him, her resolve melted away. Badger had padded along silently beside her, and she leaned down to pat his head. Her hands were shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face and took a deep breath.
Kurt heard a twig snap beneath her boot and turned. “Oh, it’s you.”
She rolled her eyes in the darkness. He sure knew just what to say to melt a woman’s heart. “Yes, it’s just me.”
“No … I mean I’m glad it’s you.” He patted the log beside him. “Come sit with me, won’t you?”
She nodded and sat on the log, positioning herself a foot away from him and smoothing out her skirts. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just watching the stars. There’s nothing like a starry night, don’t you think? In Mount Vernon, there were too many lights at night to see them clearly. I imagine New York was even worse …”
She frowned. Perhaps all the motives she’d ascribed to him were just in her mind – it was possible he wasn’t trying to avoid her. But she still felt as though she didn’t know him, not deep down. The person he truly was, seemed always hidden from her, just out of sight. “It’s just that …” She trailed off in the stillness of the evening.
He scratched his beard. “Just what?”
She could see his eyes twinkling in the darkness, and decided to risk it. “I thought you were trying to get away from me. And I don’t want to be the kind of wife who drives her husband from his own home. I just … why are you laughing?!”
He scooted closer to her on the log until their legs touched. “I’m not yearning to get away from you – quite the opposite.”
She frowned. “Truly?”
“I am your husband, after all.”
She felt her cheeks flush in the cool night. “Yes, but you don’t seem to really like us. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re kind to us and good, but you’re so quiet and you keep to yourself. I guess I wondered if you regretted everything and wished we weren’t here …” As she said the words, she wished she could take them back. They sounded so much harsher than she’d intended.
His hand found hers where they were clenched in her lap and enclosed them. “I’m so glad you and the kids are here. You’ve brought life into my world and stirred things up.” He chuckled. “I needed that – it was too quiet around here before. I don’t want to go back to that.”
She smiled, trembling. Her fingers tingled at his touch and she let her hands relax, threading her fingers through his. “I didn’t know …”
“Now you do. What would I have done these last days if you weren’t here? No one would’ve even known I was sick, let alone cared for me.”
She sighed. “Yes, I suppose.”
He seemed to sense her disappointment in his words. “But that’s not the only reason. When you arrived, I got an instant family – a big, happy family full of love. Who wouldn’t want that? And best of all, I got you.”
Her eyes widened and she held her breath.
“I could never have imagined I’d meet someone so loving, kind, smart and beautiful as you, my darling Holly. You’re everything I didn’t know I wanted. If only you loved me the way I love you, I think we could be happy together …” His voice thickened with emotion until he couldn’t speak.
Neither could Holly for a moment. Finally she managed to exhale, then swallowed the lump in her throat. “You love me? I … thought you’d never forgive me for saddling you with all these kids!”
He leaned closer, taking her breath away as he caressed the side of her jaw. “They’re amazing – just like their mother. And one day, I hope we might have one of our own …” His lips hovered just above hers, making her pulse race. When they met, she closed her eyes and wove her fingers through his hair, the world spinning around her in a daze of joy, pleasure and anticipation.
She finally pulled away for breath, watching his face, the curve of his cheek and the strong line of his nose, the depth of his eyes as, full of love, they studied her every movement.
“Do you think you could learn to love me, some day?” he asked.
She bit her lip and smiled. “I love you already, though I didn’t know it until this moment.”
He took a quick breath, then reached for her again, his mouth devouring hers in a passionate kiss, full of the longing grown over weeks of hopelessness and f
earful regrets. Now they were gone as hope and love collided in a soulful embrace.
First Presbyterian was packed tight with congregants as Holly adjusted her hat. A hatpin was scratching her scalp, and she reached up to move it to a more suitable location in the depths of her chignon.
Today, dressed in a modest mint-green gown, she’d actually looked forward to coming to the new brick building. Angus and Beatrice weren’t in attendance – baby Ulysses Roscoe Sawyer had arrived the day before, so they were at home. Still, she felt the bond even though they were absent. They were on her side, and she didn’t care what anyone else thought. She had friends, and a husband who loved her, and five wonderful children who that very morning managed to make it to church without a single argument. What more could she want?
She smiled as she raised her hymnal. The final hymn rang through the small space, echoing off the walls and ceiling with the swell of melody. She glanced at Kurt, and he smiled at her and patted her hand where it rested on his strong arm. She sighed as the last notes faded away. The minister thanked them all, dismissed them to leave and she watched the children rush outside to play. “Should we stop by to see Angus and Beatrice and the baby?”
Kurt nodded. “That would be nice. I’m looking forward to seeing him.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure Beatrice is just relieved to have it done with.”
“Well, I’ll be right outside – as soon as you’re done, we’ll head over there.” He hurried out the door, his hat in his hands.
Holly frowned – he’d done it again. He’d left her all alone in the church with folks she didn’t know. She didn’t wish to be left by herself there, and he knew it.
“Excuse me?”
She turned to see a petite, mousy woman with light brown hair staring at her through round spectacles perched on a thin, straight nose. “Yes?”
“Hello, I’m Alice Brown. Are you Kurt Sawyer’s new wife?”
She braced herself. “Yes, I am – I’m Holly. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Alice.”