by Linda Ford
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”
“What was wrong with Jake?”
“He banged his finger with one of his rocks.”
Jake held out a finger. “Owie. Kiss better.”
She leaned close and kissed the injury, bringing her so close to Ethan she bumped into his arm and inhaled his scent. She chuckled. “You smell like camphor.”
He sniffed. “So do you.”
She stepped back, and they grinned at each other. But she didn’t have time to linger. She filled the kettle, pushed more wood into the stove, and waited for the water to boil.
She looked out the window. Blossom and Susie played at Stella’s feet. Georgie sat beside Donny, playing with one of Donny’s wooden farm animals. “Where’s Cal?”
“Gone back to bed. I don’t think he’s as strong as he thinks he is.”
“I hope Stella doesn’t overdo it.”
“I asked her if she was tired. She said she felt better sitting in the sun than staying in her room. I hear her speak to the children occasionally. She’s managing to keep the peace.”
His pot of water boiled. “I’ll steam Rocky again unless you have something else to suggest.”
She heard the same note of desperation echoing her own fears. “I don’t know what else to do. Here. I’ll take Jake.”
Jake clung to Ethan, refusing to let Adele lift him.
Shock raced up her innards. Her son could not so easily feel safe with a man who was like his father. It spelled nothing but danger.
“I’ll take him out. He and Georgie can find more rocks,” Ethan said.
“Rocks.”
“Jake loves rocks.” She said the words with a great deal of resignation.
“A readily-available toy.”
She chuckled at Ethan’s wry comment.
He set Jake on the floor and took his hand and carried the hot water in his other.
Adele watched through the window as he took her son to join Georgie and pointed out the small pile of rocks the pair had accumulated. The boys immediately began to pick up the rocks and pile them differently.
Ethan grinned at her through the window, then went to tend Rocky.
The kettle boiled, and she went to steam her mother.
When she was done, she and Ethan met at the stove again.
“How’s your mother?” he asked.
“The steaming isn’t helping. My only consolation is Ma isn’t getting worse.”
“Same with Rocky.”
Stella came inside. “I’ll make dinner for everyone.”
Adele glanced at the clock. “Where has the morning gone? Stella, you should be resting.”
“I’m feeling good, and I won’t push myself. I’ve no desire to end up back in bed. But there’s bread, and I’ll fry up a batch of eggs. That will be good enough for one meal.”
Adele heard what Stella didn’t say. Someone would need to make supper, and it wouldn’t be her.
Adele grabbed a bite to eat without sitting down. Ethan did the same. Then they hurried back to their patients while Stella fed the children. Thankfully, Donny and Susie were getting along.
Jake would need to have a nap, and so would Georgie. But Adele couldn’t worry about that. Her mother needed all her attention.
Two hours later, she and Ethan again returned to the kitchen at the same time.
“Rocky is breathing easier and sleeping. I think he’s on the mend. How’s your mother?”
“No improvement. I fear—” She couldn’t finish. “She’s getting weaker.”
“Is there something else you can try?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve helped Ma take care of sick people. And even when I was at home, I would usually choose to make the meals or attend to other chores while Ma and one or more of my sisters tended the ill.” Any of the sisters would come if she sent a message to them but hadn’t, thinking she had everything under control. How quickly that had changed. Still she didn’t send for help. The sisters were newlyweds and should be with their husbands. “Now I wish I had paid more attention to what she taught. I guess I thought she’d always be around for me to consult.”
“She’s still here.”
“I know, but she struggles so hard to breathe she can hardly talk.” Adele stared down the hall. “What would she do?” She didn’t expect an answer. She tapped her finger on her chin. “I remember Ma taking care of a young woman once. She had trouble breathing. I think she had pneumonia. Ma put a plaster on her chest. But how did she make it?” She went to the cupboard where Ma kept her medicinal herbs and stared at the contents. Ethan followed. Being a good deal taller, he could see onto the top shelf.
“There’s a little notebook here.” He handed it to Adele.
She opened it. “It looks like she’s begun to write down her remedies.” She glanced over each page. “Here it is. A mustard plaster. Says it’s to ease congested lungs. I’m going to try it.” Ma’s notes were precise, as if she had written them for Adele or someone like her.
She mixed flour and mustard and added warm water to make a paste, then spread it on a flour-sack towel, according to Ma’s instructions. She carried it down the hall toward the bedroom.
“I’ll be praying,” Ethan said. “God can turn things around.”
Adele stopped and glanced back at him. Did he really believe in prayer? How could a man speak so surely about such things and yet be one of Floyd’s friends? Could she be mistaken about him?
Or was she letting herself be duped as she had with Floyd?
But the idea of him praying for Ma comforted her and gave her limbs strength, “Thanks.” Shaking her head at her confusion, she went into the bedroom.
“Ma, I’m going to try a mustard plaster.”
Ma nodded.
Adele placed the plaster on Ma’s chest then sat down to wait and watch. According to Ma’s instructions, the plaster should be lifted every five minutes to make sure it wasn’t blistering the skin.
After the prescribed twenty minutes total on one spot, she removed the plaster. Ma’s skin was red, but there were no blisters.
She helped Ma roll over and applied the plaster to her back.
Twenty minutes later she settled Ma with cough medicine. Now she would wait to see if it worked. If it didn’t—
She was plumb out of options.
She took the plaster away.
Ethan was in the kitchen, staring at a large, empty soup pot. He watched as she sank to the table. “Is she any better?”
“I don’t see any improvement.” Her voice shook with a thousand fears.
He put the pot on the cupboard and sat kitty corner from her. “Adele, don’t lose heart. God can perform miracles.”
“I know. But I also know He doesn’t always see fit to do so.” She put her arms on the table, lowered her head to them, and sobbed as quietly as she could.
Ethan patted her back and prayed. “God, we plead for Mrs. Kinsley to get better. And if You need her worse than we do, then we will grieve, but still give You glory.”
Heaven help her, but Adele found far more comfort in his touch and his words than she should. How could this man be what she saw and yet also be what she thought him to be?
Ethan didn’t have the right to touch her, to offer solace. But he couldn’t stop himself from doing so despite his suspicions about her. It entered his mind to simply ask her about the money and get it out of the way. Only it wouldn’t be out of the way. By not confronting it he could delay the time when the truth must be faced. Besides, now was not the time to deal with that matter. Taking care of the sick took priority. And then there were the children.
“I was about to start something for supper. Something quick and easy yet satisfying.”
She snorted, sat up, and wiped her eyes. “Let me know when you discover this wonderful dish.”
He laughed. “Someone would get rich if they invented an instant food. Just add water and cook.”
She shook her
head. “That’s never going to happen.”
“It might.”
She looked at him, her eyes brimming with emotions. He couldn’t identify them all but saw fear, worry, and a healthy dose of amusement.
“In the meantime, we continue preparing meals as we always have.”
“What’s the fastest, easiest meal you can think of at the moment?”
She tapped her chin—a gesture he’d noticed before when she was deep in thought. “There are plenty of garden vegetables. I suppose vegetable stew would be easy, except someone has to get produce from the garden. That takes time.”
He glanced at the clock. “Seems there’s time. I can go to the garden plus keep an eye on Rocky to make certain he’s truly on the mend.”
Down the hall, Mrs. Kinsley coughed.
Adele was instantly on her feet.
“You see to your mother, and I’ll see to the rest.”
“Fine.” She rushed away.
He wondered if the tone of her voice indicated she didn’t think he could take care of things or if her thoughts were already with her mother.
Either way, he meant to prove his worth.
What an odd thing to say. And yet the truth of it hit him. Belle had been more interested in his money than in him. Not that he wanted Adele to be interested in him. He was confusing himself. He grabbed a basket and headed outside.
Donny watched him. “Where you going?”
“To get stuff from the garden. Who wants to help?”
Donny and Susie were instantly on their feet and following him.
Blossom started to rise, but Stella said, “Maybe you can stay with me.”
Jake and Georgie barely looked up from their rocks.
It was amazing how well the pair got along. From the documents he’d found in the Oates’ wagon, he knew Georgie was two and a half—about a year older than Jake. They’d be good brothers.
He almost stumbled on a clod of dirt. They would not be brothers if he had anything to say about it. He would fight to keep these children. He reached back for Susie’s hand, forcing himself not to squeeze it too tightly.
She smiled up at him. “I’ll help you. What are you getting?”
“I need vegetables for soup. Anything that would go into a pot for soup.”
They reached the garden. Donny went to the corner and began to dig. Apparently, that was his favorite activity.
Susie looked about. “I suppose peas and beans and carrots and potatoes.”
She led the way down the rows. “Here’s some peas.” She began to pick peapods off the plants. “You have to make sure they’re nice and fat. That’s what my mama told me.”
They made their way along the row, both of them selecting full pods from the peas that grew up a wire fence.
“Looks to me like gardening is a lot of work.”
“You wanna eat, you gotta work.”
He grinned. “That’s what your mama said?”
“My papa. He said we should never be afraid of a little hard work. When he got sick, he tole me to remember everything he had told me so, I try really hard.” She sat down on the ground, tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. “I want my mama and papa back.”
Ethan put aside the basket. Supper could wait. This little girl had a more pressing need. He sat beside her in the dirt and pulled her to his lap. “I expect you will always miss them. And that’s the way it should be. But there will be better days ahead. I promise.”
She nodded against his chest. Her tears stopped as she looked up at him. “Mama and Papa said if they couldn’t stay to take care of me that God would send someone who would. I’m glad He sent you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
He hugged her back, his throat tight with emotion. “I am too, Susie Q.”
She giggled. “That’s what Papa called me.”
That settled it. God had given him these children. The preacher and Mrs. Kinsley might accept his reasoning, but he didn’t know if Adele would or anyone else who might have the authority to decide where these children lived.
He needed to find that money and use his share to buy a place as soon as possible.
But how was he to do that with Adele tending her ill mother? She didn’t have time to inadvertently lead him to the stash.
Susie slipped from his grasp and returned to picking peas. After a few minutes, she declared there were enough for a pot of soup, so they moved to the beans and picked what they both deemed to be the right amount. In a few minutes they had added carrots, potatoes, and onions to the mix. There was a row of turnips, but Susie wrinkled up her nose.
“I don’t like turnips.”
“Then we won’t put them in the soup.”
They returned to the house, leaving Donny to dig his hole.
Cal sat outside again, his chair tipped back against the wall.
Stella looked decidedly weary.
“Why don’t you have a rest?” Ethan said. “There are lots of us to watch the children.”
“I think I will. I don’t want to end up sick again.” She spoke to Blossom and the two little boys, then went inside.
Cal lowered his chair to all fours. “Two cowboys and five kids. Think I’d sooner herd wild cows.”
Susie sat at Ethan’s knees and began shelling the peas. “We aren’t wild. Except maybe Donny, and he’s digging his way to China.”
Cal snorted. “Guess he’ll be busy for a long time. At least we won’t have to worry about him.”
Ethan handed Cal some peapods. “Help us shell them.”
Cal looked like he’d been asked to dive off the roof of the house. “Me? Give me a horse or a cow, and I’ll do what needs to be done. But gardening? Not one of my skills.”
“It’s a job that needs to be done. Adele is tending her sick mother. Mrs. Norwood is just getting over being ill. Yet there are almost a dozen mouths to be fed. I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen more’n my share of full-grown cowboys get mighty cranky when they’re hungry. I’ll venture a guess that five hungry children might be more’n we care to deal with.”
Susie broke open another peapod. “You sure don’t want to hear Georgie wail when he’s hungry.” She shuddered and covered her ears.
At that warning, Cal didn’t lose any time breaking open a peapod and thumbing peas into the bowl between them.
They shelled the peas, then tipped and tailed beans and broke them into bite-sized lengths. Ethan filled a basin with water, and they scrubbed the potatoes and carrots.
“I’ll go start the soup,” he said. “Cal, can you keep an eye on the kids?”
Cal blanched. “What will I do if they cry or scream or take it in their minds to run off?”
Susie covered her mouth to muffle a giggle.
Cal gave her an injured look.
“Why you so scared? You’re a lot bigger than any of us,” she said.
“I’m not scared,” he said with some heat.
Ethan chuckled. “You aren’t fooling anyone. If you need help just holler.” He paused to check on Rocky, who slept soundly, his breathing no longer wheezy.
Susie accompanied him to the house. Ethan looked down the hall.
He hadn’t seen Adele for the last hour, though she might well have been in and out of the kitchen any number of times while he was outside. He listened for any sound from the bedroom. No coughing. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
Unless…
His hands clenched around the handles of the basket.
What if Adele was in there alone with her deceased mother?
8
Adele alternately walked to the window then back to the chair where she perched on the edge watching Ma. She’d done everything she knew to do. None of it had made a difference. Ma had stopped coughing. Her breathing was so tortured that Adele breathed in and out with her as if she could take a strain off Ma’s lungs. Ma had slipped into a deep sleep, or perhaps unconsciousness, at some point, though Adele couldn’t say how long ago. She’d
lost track of the hours.
Oh, if only Pa were here. Or if one of her sisters would come. She should have sent for one of them. All of them. She did not want to be alone as she helplessly watched her mother losing her fight with this illness.
Someone tapped on the door. Adele jerked so hard her neck protested. Had someone come to sit with her?
She rushed over to open the door. “Ethan.” She’d half-forgotten he was there. “What is it?”
“I had to come see how things are.” His gaze went to her mother. “Any change?”
“Only for the worse. I wish Pa would come home.”
Ethan studied Adele’s face. “You shouldn’t be alone. I’ll be back as soon as I put the soup to cook.”
“You don’t need—”
But he had drawn the door closed, and his footsteps echoed away.
He didn’t need to. He wasn’t family. She wasn’t even sure he was a friend. But for now, she would overlook that and accept his offer to sit with her. Anything was better than being alone.
The minutes ticked off before he returned carrying a chair that he put beside hers.
“I left the soup on the stove,” he whispered. “With Susie in charge. Mrs. Norwood is there too, of course.”
“Where is Jake?”
“Cal is watching the children.” He told her what each child was doing.
It was reassuring to know Jake and Georgie amused each other so well. They fit together as if they’d always been brothers.
He told her how fearful Cal was and Susie’s response.
Adele grinned. “She’s a smart little girl.”
“Yes, she is.” He held her gaze only a moment. They both knew this was not the time or the place to argue about the children’s future.
Her gaze went back to her ma. “I wish there was something we could do.” They both spoke in a whisper so as not to disturb Ma.
“The only thing I can suggest is prayer.” He covered her hands with his and bowed his head.
Glad of any sort of comfort and encouragement, she turned her palm to his and held tight as he prayed.
“Father God, You can move mountains, You can do anything. We humbly ask You to heal Mrs. Kinsley. Help us to have faith and trust You. Amen.”