“I’d like to escort you, Miss Wharton, if your cute button nose wouldn’t be offended by the rankness of my work shirt.”
Angel coughed several times. “I’d be honored, Dr. Logan.” She dipped in a mock curtsey. Her throat tickled, causing her to cough again.
“Pffft. It’s not dark.”
Jake. Ready retorts climbed onto her tongue, waiting for her to fire them from her mouth, but she packed them into the “proper lady basket” and shut the lid with reluctance.
Someone cracked his knuckles.
“Please don’t do that, Jake.” Heaven’s tone was as sharp as their rooster’s beak.
Step, swish, step. Heaven was wearing one of Ma’s gowns. She wasn’t as tall as Ma, and the skirt dragged across the floor. Whose attention was she trying to get? She hoped not Jake’s. The light steps grew louder as she came near. “Are you feeling all right, Angel?”
“Peachy.” She wouldn’t tell Heaven her throat hurt, or she’d be tucked in bed with a warm brick before she could protest.
“Jake, I think we should see the baby goat as well. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around farm animals, and the little ones are adorable.” Mrs. Miles brushed past her, leaving behind a flower bed of roses.
Angel’s fingers made their way to the itchy spot again, and she dug in. Those two were as annoying as the bug bite. She didn’t want to spend time with them. She wanted Travis to herself, or at least to have only Heaven with them. “Then let’s get going. Annabelle and Heaven, are you coming, too?”
“I’d love to. Thank you, Angel, for inviting me,” Annabelle said.
“I think I’ll stay here and heat the coffee. When you come back, it will be hot, and we’ll have another piece of that pie you made this afternoon.” Heaven hugged her. “It’s a really good pie.” She whispered in Angel’s ear and sent her out the door.
Today had been a tornado of emotions for Heaven. The coffeepot clanked against the stove burner plate as she replaced it on the stove to keep warm for the others. The china cup warmed her hands as she took a sip of the dark brown brew. The silence fed her soul. Before today she’d missed the hustle and bustle of friends coming and going, having forgotten how wearying it could be to have your company face stuck in place all day like dried molasses.
The canvas-covered windows took on a reddish glow from the setting sun while the evening chill snaked through the fibers. Travis said he’d ordered shutters as glass was still too costly, but they wouldn’t be in for a week, maybe longer. But with the wood Jake chopped and split, she and Angel would stay warm through the winter. She set her cup on the table and stuck her hand into her apron pocket. She pulled out her parent’s daguerreotype. Someday she would get the glass fixed. For now she wanted a safe place for it where Angel wouldn’t knock it over by accident. One more fall and the glass would likely crumble.
The bookcases had been righted, and there was an empty spot where books used to sit. She’d place it there until the bedroom was weathertight. She held it up for another good look. Her parents weren’t smiling, but then no one did, Ma said. Back then it took so long to take a picture that smiles often drooped. But Ma’s eyes seemed to sparkle, and the way Pa stood proud behind her with his hand on her shoulder, she knew they were in love. She wanted that, had begged God for it, and the only one to ask her to marry was a man she didn’t love. The frame went on the newly waxed shelf. The women from church had cleaned everything. The marks on the wall she’d made to measure the passing of days since her father left were still there. They hadn’t touched them. She brushed them with the hem of her apron, but they smeared. If she stayed, she’d cover them with new chinking when they did the new room.
She had to give Jake an answer soon. Angel had found a lot of motherly love in the cabin’s kitchen today. The church women had treated her like one of their own—on a special day. They had her sister laughing.
Laughing. Not the laugh Angel had been offering since their ma passed. This was the belly laugh that started with a throaty chuckle and ended with tears sprinkling Angel’s cheeks.
How could she take that away from her sister? Move to some unknown place where they might not even have a home? With Jake hunting gold, they’d be living in some miner’s shack. She wouldn’t marry him. Besides, something had changed. She liked him still. And that was the problem. She liked him, not loved him. She wanted to marry for love. She knew that now. Like Annabelle, she’d rather live as a spinster—if she could find a way to support herself. If not on this farm, maybe there would be a place in town she and Angel could afford. Maybe the Shaws would let them live on their farm and help with their baby and clean. They could bring Mr. and Mrs. Jackson and Junior and start their soap-making business.
In her heart, she knew that wouldn’t happen. Times were still difficult, and it was doubtful Mr. Shaw could afford to hire her or even feed them long enough for HA to bring in enough money.
Jake was no longer a choice, but that left her staying in Friendship and marrying Travis—just because Pa said so. That rankled her, despite the knowledge she liked Travis a lot, even loved him if she weren’t afraid to admit it.
And then there was Annabelle’s offer to consider. Heaven knew that was a bad idea, romantic and adventurous, but not something she should do, and neither should Annabelle. Without a husband or true means of support, it was craziness to think they could move to a new town and open a shop.
The rain-sodden door shuddered against the threshold as it was thrust open. The door had been found in the woods, and one of the men reattached it, assuring her it would work fine once it dried. Annabelle came in leading Angel by the hand. “Heaven, something is wrong with her.”
The light in the cabin wasn’t sufficient for an examination. Travis had Heaven light the lamps along with the candles so he could examine Angel. Red spots dotted her hairline, and now she scratched her side. He glanced away from his patient to her hovering sister. “Heaven, have you had the measles?”
“When I was five. Is that what Angel has?” Heaven placed a trembling hand on Angel’s cheek. “She’s burning up.”
The pie in Travis’s stomach soured. The spots, the fever, and the cough she’d had yesterday were clear signs that she had the dreaded disease. The town needed to be notified, quarantined. The sourness turned to acidic bubbles. People in this town would die.
“The child has the measles?” Shards of panic sliced through the cabin as Mrs. Miles backed away. “Jake, we need to leave now. Neither of us has had them.”
“Mother, we need to stay and help.” Jake took a step closer to his mother and away from Heaven.
Travis noticed. If the man loved Heaven, why wasn’t he offering her comfort?
“Annabelle,”—Heaven’s face leached to the color of porcelain as she spun around and faced her friend—”did you have them when I did?”
Annabelle shook her head in denial. “No, Mother kept me locked in the house every time there was a threat so I wouldn’t catch them. It worked, because I didn’t catch them.”
“Then you have to leave. With Jake and Mrs. Miles.” Heaven pushed her friend toward the door. “Jake, get the buggy.”
Annabelle whipped away from Heaven and backed up against the wall. “I’m not leaving. You need help. I wasn’t here before, but I am now.”
Angel scratched at her face.
“Don’t.” Travis grabbed her hand. “If you do that, you might get scars on that pretty face.”
“But—I—can’t—help—it. It itches.” Angel whined and tried to pull her hand back.
“I’ll make a plaster for you. Heaven will smear it on the spots, and it won’t itch as much.” Travis struggled to talk like a comforting doctor. “The rest of you all need to go back to town. Stay in your rooms. Jake, you need to find Preacher Reynolds and ask him to get the word out. Everyone should stay home. Maybe we can keep the town”—he remembered Angel’s presence—”safe.”
“Heaven, when you were at church the other day, did anyon
e mention not feeling well?”
“No, not that I remember.” Her wide eyes didn’t even blink at him. He knew she was thinking about what had happened the last time a fever came to this cabin. He wanted to reassure her that this was different, but he couldn’t. And if he tried, she would know he was lying to her.
“Cassie was coughing. She coughed a bunch.” Angel’s hand went back to her scalp. Her fingers went walking.
“So it’s probably making its way through town now.” Travis knew he couldn’t turn his back on the town. He would be called, and most likely some would die. He didn’t want to look Heaven in the eye and tell her that her sister might be one of them.
Jake took Annabelle’s hand. “You need to come with us, Bella. Dr. Logan knows what is best, and that’s for us to be in town. It won’t help Heaven if Angel gets better and then you get ill.”
Bella? So now that Heaven wasn’t jumping into Jake’s arms, it looked as if he was setting his sights on her best friend. Annabelle seemed to be a smart woman though and would see through him.
Mrs. Miles gathered the stitching she’d brought along. “He’s right, dear. Your mother protected you when you were young, and now that she’s gone, I feel I should do so in her place. Get your things together. It’s a good thing we didn’t bring that trunk of stuff along.”
“Angel, I’m going out to the barn to get what I need to mix up that plaster for you. Say your good-byes to your friends.”
Travis left the cabin with Jake thumping down the porch steps behind him.
“Logan, think she’ll survive?”
Travis halted. He stared at the barn and saw army tents in his mind. “I don’t know, Jake. A lot of people don’t.” His flesh crawled as if he’d been ordered back to the front. Devastation of families awaited him wherever he went. Beads of sweat rolled down his neck as the tents turned into Heaven sobbing over the death of Angel.
Chapter 29
Heaven pinned the last cloth on the line to dry. There had been more washing to do with Angel getting sick to her stomach. Heaven saw Travis running toward her from the woods, holding something. She smiled. He’d been out all day searching for anything belonging to them that might have been dropped in the woods by the tornado. Before lunch he’d found her rocking chair, the paint scratched and the wood dented.
What had he found this time? She met up with him by the porch. He held his treasure behind his back like a little boy. “What is it?”
He gave her a found-a-hundred-dollar-bill grin and brought his arms around front. His hands held the Wharton family Bible. “It got a little wet. Some of the pages are stuck together. Might even be few of them missing. Here.” He thrust it into her hands. “I know how much you mourned the loss of it.”
“Where did you find it?” She ran her hand across the dark brown leather cover. She never thought to see it again.
“I was walking and searching the ground when a mocking bird let out a screech, and I looked up and saw something catch the light up in a tall tree. The more I stared at it, the more it seemed to call to me. So I climbed and found it wedged tight between two branches. The sun was bouncing off those gilt-edged pages like a beacon so I could find it.”
“You climbed the tree for me?” She hugged the Bible to her chest and wished she were brave enough to hug him, too. “For me and Angel? You saved our family history, Travis. Thank you.”
A horse came barreling down the drive. Travis pushed Heaven behind him.
“Dr. Logan!” The rider called out.
“I’m here.” Travis shouted back.
The man brought the horse to a stop in front of them. “Obadiah sent me. Mrs. Shaw’s turned sick, real bad. He wants you to come right away.”
Heaven grabbed Travis by the arm. Fear grabbed her by the throat. “You can’t go. What if Angel gets worse?”
He pulled away from her, not answering her question. “Ride on back and tell them I’ll be there right away.”
The messenger nodded and pulled on the reins to turn his horse, giving it a nudge. It took off on a run back to the Shaw’s farm.
“I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Travis walked toward the barn. “You know what to do for Angel. I told you, and I believe you can do this.”
Being left alone with Angel sick terrified her, and her body shook with anger. “No, I can’t do it.” She followed him into the barn.
“I’m taking Charlie if that’s okay. He’s not as high strung, and I won’t have time to baby him when I get there.” He saddled the horse.
Heaven clutched the Bible tighter and watched Travis tighten the girth strap on Charlie’s saddle. He gave it another quick tug and then buckled it.
“You can’t mean to ride off and leave us here.”
“She’s ill, Heaven. I may be able to help.”
“He didn’t say she has the measles. Maybe it’s just a cold.”
“Maybe, or maybe it’s something worse. I have to go.” He slung the saddlebags over the horse’s back.
In between the post and the stall gate, a spider had at one time anchored its web. Some of the threads were broken and quivered in the breeze that snaked through the barn walls. What had made that spider leave its home? She raked her fingers through her hair, stopping at a knot. When had it gotten tangled? “Angel needs you here.” I need you.
“I took an oath, Heaven. To help people.” He gripped his hat tightly in one hand. “You can take care of Angel. I’ve told you what I would do if I were here. None of it’s difficult.” He popped his hat on his head.
He was going to leave. She searched for some way to reach him. He had to understand why she couldn’t be left. People she loved died or became blind when she took care of them. Guilt joined with fear and braided in anger. Her fingers curled into a fist, her thumbnail worried the top of her index fingers. “Where was that oath when you took care of Pa? Where was it when you decided to raise horses instead of helping people? Why does it have to be important to you now?” Behind her, Mrs. Jackson butted her head against the door. Heaven wanted to do the same. She might as well. The man wouldn’t listen to her pleas.
Travis took a step toward her with his arms outstretched. Did he mean to embrace her? Comfort her? She backed away. Her breath clawed the sides of her throat as it came in and back out at a rapid pace. “Didn’t Pa tell you to take care of us? That’s what you wanted, right—the farm, me? Well you can have it. All of it. Including me. Just don’t leave me here alone to take care of my sister.” Or there is no deal. She slid the Bible under her arm and wiped her moist hands on her apron then folded them as if in prayer. She rested her chin on her folded knuckles and refused to let him see her tears.
Travis mounted Charlie and tipped his hat. “Miss Wharton, I would never accept a woman in that manner.” He kneed the horse and left the barn.
Heaven watched the twitch of Charlie’s tail as Travis’s back grew smaller. She waited for him to look over his shoulder, even turn around and say he was sorry. He didn’t. She wouldn’t call after him, beg him to come back, even though the words were tugging at her throat, begging to be said.
She could not allow herself to panic. But how could she stop the ice from taking root in her veins? Get busy. Yes, that’s what she needed—to do something, follow the directions Travis left.
Her stomach felt pecked full of holes. She stumbled back into the cabin. She’d start supper. Maybe Mrs. Shaw wasn’t that sick and Travis would return in time to eat with her. He’d apologize, and she’d forgive him, and he’d promise never to leave her like that again. She clung to the back of the chair where he’d sat since he’d arrived. Why did it seem she could never hold on to a man? Why did they always pick someone or something else instead of her?
Angel. Check on her first. She might have taken a turn for the worse while Heaven had been in the barn pleading with Travis to no avail.
He’d said he didn’t want her. Not the way she was offering herself. The disgust dripped off his lips when he said it as if she where o
ne of those poor girls without mothers who worked in the saloons. Is that what she’d lowered her standards to? She didn’t have a mother, and she had just offered herself in a most undignified way.
“Heaven?” Angel called out from the straw bed they’d put together for her yesterday.
“I’m right here.” She hustled to her sister’s side. “Are you ready for a drink of tea?”
“No. Will you scratch me?”
“I can’t do that. I can draw a bath and wash you with lye soap. That seems to help.”
Angel rolled away from her. “No. Go away.”
“Ah sweetheart. You’ll be better soon. Travis said in a few days the rash will all but disappear, and so will the itching.”
“Go. Away.”
She didn’t reprimand her sister for her tone. Truth was she wanted to go away. She didn’t want to take care of Angel again. What would happen to her sister this time?
Cook. Get busy. Peel the potatoes and boil them. Open some beans and spoon them into the pan. She operated from memory, not feeling. She even made a plate for Travis and set it in front of his chair. Then she made the fork go in her mouth. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. She listened for Charlie’s hoofbeats. None came. She finished what was on her plate, scooted out of her chair, and checked on Angel.
“I said go away.”
“I’ll leave you alone for now. I’ll be back as soon as I clean up the kitchen.” She picked up Travis’s full plate and set it on the stove for later. She shouldn’t be angry at him. God had made it apparent that healing was His gift to Travis. But what did He give to her?
As she washed the few plates, she remembered the barn chores would need to be done. It hadn’t taken her long to acclimate to Travis doing them for her. She set a dried plate on the hutch and picked up the other to wipe. How did he expect her to milk the cow and feed the horse and the goats while watching Angel every second in case her fever rose? The dishcloth in Heaven’s hand whipped across the plate and then over her shoulder as she settled the last dish on top of the other. One pot remained to be cleaned.
Bride's Dilemma in Friendship, Tennessee Page 22