“Is that so?” Samuel squared his shoulders as he felt the mirth building inside his frame.
“It is. Now look, what about Emmaleigh there in the blue? She’s a pretty young thing and smart too. Or Louisa? I’ve heard she’s a great cook. You wouldn’t go wrong with either as a bride.”
Samuel tried to stifle his laughter. “You’d choose a wife for me?”
“If you don’t, then somebody should.”
Samuel massaged his hand. “I thank you, sir, but at this time I have no plans to take a wife. And I will continue to have no plans until the Lord tells me otherwise.”
“Just hope you’re right,” and the man stomped down the few steps.
Samuel was still smiling when he heard a quiet voice at his elbow.
“Mister McKinnon?”
He turned in the direction of the voice.
“Would you be pleased to eat with us today?” At his look the woman hastened to add, “I have three daughters but none are of an age for matrimony.”
Samuel smiled. “I’d be delighted.”
Renton buttoned his coat and surveyed himself in the mirror one last time. A few grey hairs were gathering over his ears, but apart from that he was satisfied that he looked much the same as he had when a young man.
He couldn’t believe that he’d overslept and missed the early morning service. He’d never missed church before and it would have been wonderful to hear Samuel preach. Still, he would go and search him out now. He would like to catch up with the young man again and perhaps he could help put things right between Samuel and Katie.
“The pastor’s not here.”
Renton sank down wearily on the step of the church. He hadn’t realised the distance when he’d made the decision to walk from Wallis Plains to the Government Town and he certainly hadn’t expected to not meet with Samuel.
“Do you know when he’ll return?”
“Nope.” The boy looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years of age and was dressed in filthy and tattered clothes. A convict? Perhaps out here they didn’t all wear the convict garb that he was accustomed to seeing male prisoners in. “He was eating with the Davidsons when he got the message that some man had been hit by a falling tree back a ways on the Great North Road and was dying. Probably dead by the time the pastor got there but he went all the same.”
“I see.”
Renton took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“Have you come far?”
Renton looked curiously at the boy. “Walked from Wallis Plains today. My home’s in Newcastle. Why do you ask?”
“You look hot and bothered. I could draw you a drink from the well.”
“That would be most appreciated. Thank you.”
Within a few moments he was drinking from the ladle held out to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, sir.”
Again Renton gazed curiously at the boy. “Excuse me for saying so, but you speak well for a convict.”
The boy laughed. “I’m not a convict. My name’s Jonathan Goldfinch. My father owns the inn down yonder.”
“My apologies then. I assumed –”
“It’s the clothes isn’t it? I don’t usually dress like this but I was to meet some other boys and we were to go fishing down at the creek.”
“On the Lord’s Day?”
“Yes, why not?” Now it was the boy’s turn to look at him curiously.
“Your parents don’t mind you fishing on a Sunday?”
“No, why would they? Father spends Sunday sleeping after working late in the inn the night afore – Saturday’s his busiest day – and Mother uses it to gossip with the neighbours. It’s just the same as any other day except that Father doesn’t work as hard.”
“I see. Have you any siblings?”
“Just one. A sister. It’s best to stay as far away as possible from her – she can be a mean thing if you know what I mean. Well, here are the others so I’ll leave you now. Would you like me to tell the schoolmaster that you were here?”
“Schoolmaster?”
“Mister McKinnon. He’s the schoolmaster during the week and the pastor on Sundays. I can pass a message on if you like.”
“Thank you. You could tell him that Doctor Sanford called.”
“A doctor? Are you truly a doctor?”
He nodded. “Do you find that unusual?”
“No. It’s just that I don’t think we’ve ever had a doctor here before. Well I must be going.”
Renton watched as the boy ran down the hill to meet his friends and then sauntered off toward the creek. He sighed before standing and starting down the hill. He had a long walk ahead of him and a lot of things to think on. No doctor? None at all? Could it be that God was leading them to this place for a reason?
“I don’t like the look of this. Lola, more cold water please. We must get her fever down.”
“What can I do?” Katie stood at the end of the bed wringing her hands and watching as Esther and Lola worked on Rhiannon. Her friend’s fever, far from breaking, seemed to be rising with every hour. Rhiannon tossed on the bed, crying in her sleep, her hair plastered to her forehead from the perspiration, the sheets soaked and twisted from her fever and thrashing.
“Help me change these sheets. She can’t sleep on wet sheets. Although we’ve changed them twice today as it is.”
Katie moved to collect a fresh set of linens then returned to the bed.
“Was I this ill?”
Esther’s tormented eyes met Katie’s. “No. No, I don’t think so. But Rhiannon has always been delicate. She seems to go down far worse with any illness – especially a cold.”
“Is it her lungs?”
Esther glanced up from the sheet she was tucking in and Katie read the question there.
“I worked for a doctor. Before coming here.”
“That’s right. I remember now. Here, roll Rhiannon toward me, and remove the wet sheet on your side. See the clean sheet I’ve slipped under her side? Pull that. Good girl. Now tuck it in. Now roll her onto her back.”
Esther whipped the top sheet off her daughter and expertly replaced it with a clean one. “Tuck this one in too. No, I don’t think we’ll bother with a blanket,” she shook her head as Katie’s hand reached for it. “She’s too hot as it is.”
“The doctor I worked for used to believe in cooling a fever but few do.”
“Renton has always said that it makes more sense – to cool them down when they’re hot. He insists that all fevers be treated by cooling even though most in the profession disagree. It worked with you when you were sick. I just pray that it works this time too.”
Katie walked around the room and put her arms around the older woman. “Ye go get some rest and I’ll sit with Rhiannon.”
Esther shook her head. “I can’t leave her.”
“Just for an hour or two. Ye need to sleep. Ye’ve been attending her for two days without a break. Ye must sleep.”
“She’s right, Missus,” Lola intervened. “You need to sleep.”
“I’ve slept in the chair.”
Katie glanced at the over-stuffed chair in the corner. “I doubt it was all that comfortable. I’ll stay with Rhiannon. I’ll call ye if there’s any change. I promise.”
“Well, it would be good to lie down for an hour. And if you promise not to go to sleep …” her voice trailed off.
“Go.”
Katie watched as Esther kissed her daughter and smoothed the bedclothes one more time before leaving the room with Lola. Moving to the aforementioned chair Katie sat down and was surprised at just how uncomfortable it was. Why did people bother with chairs that you couldn’t sit in? Shifting the cushions to support her back she let her eyes fall on her friend.
Rhiannon was still moaning and thrashing in her sleep but not to the degree that she had earlier. Katie didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. Her friend’s face was flushed, the lips blue, and dark circles outlined her eyes. A sound brought Katie to her feet
and she quickly grabbed a basin as she lifted Rhiannon upright. When the vomiting had ceased, Rhiannon’s eyes flickered open momentarily, before once again closing.
Katie wiped her friend’s face with a cool cloth before she resettled herself in the chair and gazed once more on her friend. Clutching her hands tightly she began to pray.
Oh Father, please don’t let Rhiannon die. She’s been like a sister to me. I love her so much. Please, make her well again. Please.
For the next few hours, Katie lifted the same prayer again and again to the seat of her Heavenly Father.
Katie helped Lola lift the heavy sheets from the large copper and wring them out. For three days, Rhiannon’s fever had raged with no sign of abating. If they didn’t wash the sheets, there’d be none dry if Rhiannon needed clean ones. This couldn’t wait until washday on Monday.
“The missus should send for the doctor.”
“She already has.”
“Not that doctor. He knows nothing. Doctor Sanford.”
“She doesn’t want to alarm him.”
“Perhaps it’s time he needs alarming.”
Katie dropped the sheet back into the copper and looked at Lola. “Ye think it’s that bad?”
“All I is saying is that the doctor has a right to know.”
Katie grabbed onto the wooden stick that they used to stir the contents of the copper and to lift items out of the water. Her knuckles turned white.
“I’ll talk to her. Who is that man?” she questioned as a man walked around the side of the house. Both women dropped their sticks and wiped their hands on their aprons.
“My apologies, ladies, but no one answered my knock. I’m looking for Doctor Sanford.”
Lola and Katie glanced at each other before Katie replied, “He’s not here.”
“Do you know where I can find him?”
Another shared look. Certainly the man looked harmless enough and not at all like the man who had claimed to be Seamus’s father. It was Katie who replied again. “He’s in Wallis Plains at the moment.”
The man’s face fell.
“Can we help, sir? Are ye wanting a doctor? Perhaps the hospital –”
The man waved his hand. “No, I’m not after a doctor. I’ve never personally met Doctor Sanford but we have a mutual friend. A man by the name of Mister McKinnon.”
“Ye know Samuel?”
The man’s eyebrows rose. “And you are?” he asked gently.
“Katie. Kaitleen Donovan. And ye sir – who are ye?”
The man reached forward and grasped Katie’s hands. “Katie, Katie, I’ve heard so much about you. Samuel spoke of you often. You were on board ship together. I’m so pleased to meet you. No, no, don’t pull away. There’s no need to feel ashamed. I was a convict once – and then the Lord found me. Samuel and I worked together for a time in Port Macquarie. He may have mentioned me to you?”
“Ye are his friend Mark?”
“Mark Richards at your service. You’ve heard of me then?”
“I have. Samuel did mention ye. But what are ye doing here? It’s a long way from Port Macquarie.”
“I’m on my way to join Samuel in Wallis Plains and since I had to disembark here for the next stage of my journey I thought I’d take the opportunity to meet the doctor and his family. Samuel has spoken so highly of the doctor that I’m sorry to have missed him. Perhaps his wife is here?”
Katie shook her head. “She’s here but their daughter is ill. I’m afraid now is not a good time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She’s gravely ill, sir,” Lola spoke for the first time. “Not expected to live.”
“Lola!”
“It’s true, Katie. Rhiannon’s dying and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Katie looked pleadingly at Mark. “She’s overwrought. We all are. But I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.”
“It is and if yous was honest you’d admit it too.”
Mark’s gaze went from Katie’s face, to Lola’s, and then back to Katie’s. “If what you say is true, then perhaps I can help.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but what cans you do?” Lola asked bluntly. “We’ve had the doctor and hes can do nothing.”
“I could pray for her.”
“We’ve been praying ever since she took ill.”
“Jesus said ‘that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they should ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.’”
Katie studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Perhaps ye can help us after all. Come into the house and I’ll call Missus Sanford.”
Grasping his hat, Mark followed Katie into the house.
Chapter Nine
Samuel fingered the thin sheet of paper that he had found slipped under his door on his return the previous evening. Too tired to light a lamp he had fallen into bed, and had forgotten about the note until now as he sat hearing his class recite the multiplication tables. Surreptitiously he pulled it from his pocket and looked at its contents. He didn’t allow his class to pass notes during school time so it wouldn’t do for him to be caught reading a note that had nothing to do with his role as a teacher.
Dear Samuel,
I called on Sunday afternoon and again Tuesday evening but discovered on both occasions your absence. I plan to return to Newcastle on Friday but hope to visit with you before I go. I can be reached at the Junction Inn.
Yours truly,
Renton Sanford.
The doctor was here and he had missed him. But it was only Wednesday. There was still time to see him before he returned. Perhaps he could even let class out early. But no, that would never do. His students had already missed two days of school due to his absence. He couldn’t afford to take any more time off just yet. The good doctor would have to wait.
“Ah, Pastor, lovely to see you. What can I do for you?”
“I believe you have a friend of mine staying here. Doctor Sanford?”
“Left this morning.”
“To go where?”
“Home.”
“Home? But I had a note saying he was to be here until Friday.”
“He got a message from home. Bad news. Was gone within the hour.”
“Bad news.”
“Not that it was any of my business you understand but I did ask him about it and he said that his daughter was gravely ill.”
“Gravely ill.” Samuel felt like a parrot but all ability to make coherent conversation seemed to have escaped him.
“Those were his exact words. Do you know the doctor’s daughter?”
“Not well.” Samuel tucked his hands in his pockets.
“Ah well, these things happen. God’s will and all that.”
“Perhaps.” Samuel didn’t feel like arguing the will of God right now and certainly not with this man who was quick to blame God when things went wrong but ignored Him when things were going his way.
“You could stay and eat with us, Pastor. It’s a long walk back to your place.”
“Thank you, James, but I think I’d like to walk. And pray,” he added.
“Surely that can wait until after you’ve eaten?”
“Some things can’t wait.”
“Oh, aye,” James nodded, but it was obvious he didn’t understand.
Gravely ill. The words kept replaying themselves in Renton’s mind as he waited for the current to bring the boat into the town’s wharf. He had no idea what he would find when he reached home but he was anxious to reach it as soon as possible.
The boat’s crew seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to dock the boat. Didn’t they see that he just wanted to get home? Perhaps he should have a word with the captain about the inefficiency of his crew.
As soon as the boat had been moored, he grabbed his bag and sprang onto the wharf. It would be quicker to walk than to try and find a horse at this time of e
vening.
Each step that he took burnt deeper into his brain the questions that had plagued him all the way home: what would he find? and, did Rhiannon still live?
The same words were imprinting themselves on Samuel’s brain as he trudged home. Gravely ill. How could that young bright girl be at death’s door?
He remembered her laughter, her chatter, and the way her eyes had lit up with mischief. He knew from her letters that she and Katie had found kinship as deep as any born of mutual ties of flesh and blood.
Poor Katie. How she must be suffering.
Rhiannon. She reminded him so much of his own sister and he felt a stab at his heart. She couldn’t die. She mustn’t die.
Each step that he took brought him closer to home and each step he prayed. For Rhiannon. For the doctor and his wife. For Katie. And for the faith to believe that God would heal.
The light was fading when Renton Sanford ran up the hill upon which he had built his house and stopped at the gate to catch his breath. The curtains were drawn but that was to be expected at this time of year. His eyes noted the fact that no sign of mourning adorned the house. Good. Rhiannon must still live.
Lifting the latch on the gate, he walked quickly down the broad path and let himself into the house. All was quiet. Too quiet.
Taking the steps two at a time he paused when he reached the landing and took a deep breath before quietly letting himself into Rhiannon’s bedroom where he stopped short. Rhiannon, pale and white, was lying on the bed. Beside her stood Esther and Katie and a man he didn’t know. Heads bowed, hands linked, he realised they were praying for his daughter. His heart seemed to stop in his chest until he noticed the rise and fall of his daughter’s chest. She still breathed.
“Esther?”
His wife turned at his whispered voice, and then threw herself into his arms.
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