by Mills, DiAnn
“Good morning, Mr. Hunters. I’m glad to see you are all right from the storm.”
Something is wrong here. “I came by to see how you were fairing after the snowstorm. I apologize for not having milk, but the drifts are too high for the wagon. I believe the cow is about to go dry too.”
Her round face, pale and rigid, looked distracted. “Thank you, but we are warm and have plenty of chips for the fire.”
“And food?”
“We will manage. I appreciate you stopping by.” She hesitated, then whispered, “I can’t let you in, Mr. Hunters. Pa would thrash me for sure.”
He smiled in hopes of easing her nervousness. “I understand, Amanda. Is—”
“Amanda, whata ya doing?” Dagget’s slurred voice bellowed.
She glanced behind her. “It’s Mr. Hunters.”
“Shut the door!” A string of curses followed with how Dagget viewed his daughter and Gabe, certainly nothing complimentary.
“I’ll not keep you,” Gabe said to Amanda. “Let us know if we can be of assistance.”
Amanda’s eyes pooled as she slowly shut the door. Gabe offered another reassuring smile and ambled toward his horse.
“Wait,” Amanda called from the doorway. “We do need help. Mary is awful sick—burning up with fever.”
Gabe whirled around. “What have you given her?”
“I don’t have anything but a little ginger tea, and I’ve applied a mustard plaster. Pa had me give her whiskey and a little molasses, said it would cut the cough and put her to sleep. Mr. Hunters, did I do the right thing? Ma always said spirits invited evil.”
“Amanda, get in here now! I’ll teach you to mind me.”
Dagget had been drinking, that was obvious, but Gabe wasn’t about to ride home and forget the little girl lying sick. He strode back to the door and entered the small dugout. It smelled rank from whiskey, vomit, and unkempt bodies.
The little girl stared up from a straw pallet with huge, cavernous eyes, the same child from the barn incident weeks before. She coughed, a deep ragged sound that rattled her chest. Her little body shook, and she barely had enough strength to cry. Nearby, Dagget sat sprawled in a chair with a bottle of liquor in one hand and the other clamped around Matthew’s wrist. In the shadows, three boys ranging from about Simon’s age to probably fifteen sat motionless.
Gabe clenched his fists and fought the rage tearing through him. He swallowed his anger, realizing a fight with Dagget would solve nothing. “A good father would put down that bottle and see what he could do about nursing this child.”
Dagget lifted a brow. “She ain’t none of yer business. So ya’d best be leaving before I find my shotgun.”
“Not yet,” Gabe said quietly, edging closer to view the child’s pallor.
Dagget staggered to his feet and took a swallow from the bottle. Finding it empty, he threw it across the room. The pieces landed dangerously close to the boys huddled in a corner. “Git me my gun, Charles.”
fifteen
The older boy emerged from a corner, a strapping young man, tall and muscular. He glanced at his little sister suffering through another gut-wrenching cough, then at Amanda. “No, Pa. I’m not getting you the gun.”
Dagget swung his arm wildly. He released Matthew and stood to stagger toward Charles. “Boy, you’ll know this beatin’ for a long time.”
Lord, why are there such animals in this world? “You’ll not harm him,” Gabe said, surprising himself with his firmness.
“It’s all right, Mr. Hunters,” Charles said. “He’s too drunk to do anything but talk, and we’ve all had enough. Truth be known, I could take him on, but I don’t like the idea of fighting my own pa.”
“Why you—”
Gabe grabbed Dagget’s arm and shoved him back down onto the chair—the first time he’d ever touched a man in fury. “Stay put, because I intend to make sure this child is properly tended to.”
“If only the doc didn’t live so far away,” Charles said, bending to feel Mary’s forehead, while Amanda wiped her face with a damp cloth.
“It would take four days or more to get him,” Gabe replied, thinking Dagget was angry enough without Charles adding more rebellion by leaving. “She needs attention now, and that’s a rough journey for a grown man.”
“No disrespect meant, but it’s time I acted like a man and took better care of my brothers and sisters. Pa never acted like this when Ma was alive, and he treats Mary like a pitiful dog.” Charles shook his head. “It’s not her fault ma died giving birth to her, but Pa expects her to pay for it every day.”
“Seems like she doesn’t want to fight this sickness,” Amanda added. “It’s as though she’s given up.”
“I have to do something.” Without another word, Charles reached for a thin coat on a peg beside the door. “I need to get help somewhere.”
“Go to Lena. She has more tea and some herbs to nurse your little sister.” Gabe began to pull off his own outer garments. “Here, take my coat. It’s warmer. And my horse is already saddled.”
Charles hesitated.
“Do take the coat and Mr. Hunters’s horse,” Amanda insisted. “You don’t need to be ill too.”
Reluctantly, Charles accepted the clothes. A handsome lad with light hair and strong features, he stole another glimpse at Mary. “Thank you, Mr. Hunters, and I apologize for not expressing my gratitude in the past for the milk.”
“It’s quite unnecessary,” Gabe said. “Hurry along. The snow is deep, and it will take you a few hours to get there and back.”
Nodding toward his father, Charles asked, “Do you want me to tie him up?”
Excellent idea. “No. I can handle Dagget just fine.”
After he left, Gabe greeted the other children. They appeared a bit leery of their father, who only stared into the flames. He didn’t bark any orders or curse. He simply sat.
Amanda made Mary as comfortable as possible, wrapping her in another blanket and moving her closer to the fire, while Gabe scooted Dagget’s chair away from it.
Nearly three hours later, Lena and the boys arrived. Simon road on the horse, while the other three traveled on foot. Charles carried food, ginger for tea, and another potion of dried horseradish to brew for Mary. Lena and the boys carried dried elderberries, salt pork, a little milk, and a blanket.
“None of us wanted to wait at home when we might be of use here,” Lena said. “The walk felt refreshing after being inside all day yesterday.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know you were trekking across the snow, but I’m glad you’re here.” Gabe helped her remove her coat and kissed the tip of her nose—so natural a gesture, so easy now that she’d revealed her heart and accepted his love.
Lena’s presence eased the heaviness threatening to overwhelm him. To him, anger had always been a characteristic of the weak, and a trait he’d refused to succumb to. The sins accompanying loss of control were vile. I’ve never felt so angry. I don’t know whether to apologize to Dagget or try to make him comprehend what he’s doing to his family.
Caleb and Simon urged the younger boys to head outside. Gabe surmised the Shafer children didn’t share the luxury of free time very often, although their lack of proper clothing tugged at his conscience.
“Check on the hogs,” Dagget bellowed. “And feed my mules.”
Gabe said nothing for fear he’d strike the man. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to shake him until what few teeth he had fell out.
He definitely did not feel like the model of a godly man.
“Why?” Dagget asked of Gabe a few moments later. “You bring milk ’most everyday. You’re ready to fight me over—” He pointed to Mary.
“Can’t you say her name?” Gabe asked, the ire swelling inside of him again. Lord, I’m being self-righteous here. Dagget is wrong, but it’s not right for me to condemn him.
“She killed her ma.” Bitterness edged Dagget’s words.
Gabe glanced at the child. If she died, God would lift h
er into His arms in heaven. If Dagget died, what would be his fate? “God took your wife home and left you a gift. In fact, He left you with six treasures. Maybe it’s time to cease your complaints about the children He’s entrusted to you and start taking care of them before you lose them all.”
“Easy for you to say,” Dagget sneered.
Pain wrenched through Gabe’s heart as he remembered his own childhood. “No, it’s not easy for me to say. I understand little Mary’s plight.” Gabe stood and towered over Dagget. “Look at your daughter. She’s not fighting the fever; she has nothing on the inside of her to want to live. Unless you give her a reason, she won’t survive.”
A bewildered expression spread over the man’s face even in his drunken stupor. Gabe turned his attention back to Mary, disgusted at the drunken excuse of a man before him.
“Pray for me, Lena,” he whispered. “I’m incensed with Dagget. I think I could tear him apart with my bare hands.”
She lifted her gaze from Mary and touched his face. “You’re a man who loves his family and doesn’t understand why Dagget fails to see his blessings. I’ll pray for you and Dagget.” She studied Mary’s face. “And this poor baby suffering here.”
“If only Pa loved her,” Amanda softly whispered. “Some-times we hide her from him so he won’t beat her.”
“We won’t let him hurt her ever again,” Charles vowed. He took a deep breath. “I think I’ll check on the animals.”
Gabe stood. “I’ll go with you. Staying inside is making me irritable.”
❧
Lena watched Gabe leave, her heart heavy with the sadness etching his features. She wanted to offer comfort, but the right words slipped her mind. Her childhood had been happy and full of wonderful memories, but she’d come to know something terrible had happened to Gabe as a child—something that weighed on him like a heavy yoke. Perhaps she should ask him about it when all of this was over.
She’d never heard Gabe raise his voice, and he really hadn’t shouted at Dagget, but his anger had spilled over like a boiling pot. How well she understood the guilt of an uncontrollable temper. Each time she forgot her resolve to contain hers, a matter would irritate her, and her mouth acted before her Christianity set in.
Of course she understood giving it all to God would help, but Lena wanted to end it all on her own—to show God she could please Him. She hadn’t been able to curb her unforeseen anger by herself yet. She glanced at Dagget. Drunk. Mean. Hurting those he loved, or should love.
I’m not like him. I’m a good mother and wife. I don’t hurt anyone or use horrible language. I love my family, and they love me.
Lena unwillingly recalled the days following James’s death when her heart had hardened against God and all those around her, even Caleb and Simon. She’d despised James for leaving her alone to raise two children and manage the farm. Her tears of grief had turned to hate for his abandonment. The turning point came when Caleb asked her why she didn’t like him or Simon. Lena had cried and begged God and the boys’ forgiveness. Since then, she’d managed her temper fairly well—but not to her satisfaction.
Obviously, Dagget felt the same way about Mary. Unfor-tunately, he hadn’t recognized the poison brewing in his soul.
Lena pushed aside her disturbing thoughts. At present, Mary deserved all of her attention. She bent and kissed the little girl’s feverish cheeks. I’d take this child in a minute—all of them—and give them a proper home where they’d know the meaning of real love.
“Do you think she will be all right?” Amanda’s voice broke into quiet sobs. She sat on the other side of her sister and adjusted the quilt for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“Are you praying?” Lena asked quietly.
Amanda buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to pray for. I’ve been Mary’s mama since the day she was born, and I love her so very much. I even named her Mary Elizabeth after Ma, but Pa has made her life miserable. Perhaps she should be with Jesus and Mama. At least she’d be happy and loved.”
Lena moved alongside the young woman and held her while she wept. “We all want what’s best for Mary, and only God in His perfect wisdom knows the answers. He loves her more than we can imagine, and He knows our hearts.”
“I want her to fight this and get well,” Amanda said, lifting a tear-stained face. “I don’t want to lose my little Mary.” She turned to the child. “Please get well. I promise to take better care of you. None of us will let you be hurt again.”
Lena cried with her. Children shouldn’t ever have to suffer for adults’ mistakes. “We must pray for God’s healing. He can work miracles.” Lena took a sideways glance at Dagget, who stared at them. In his slouched position with his chin resting on his chest, huge tears rolled down his face.
“Have I killed my little girl?” he groaned.
Lena recalled Gabe’s earlier words. “She needs to hear you love her and want her to live.”
Dagget curled his fingers into a ball and trembled. “Amanda,” he said softly. “Do we have any coffee?”
“Yes, Pa.”
“Would you mind getting me a mug full?”
Amanda tore herself from Lena and brought her father the coffee. Although steam lifted from the hot brew, he downed it quickly. All the while the tears washed over his dirty cheeks. He stared at Mary, wordless. Lena didn’t know if his drunkenness had brought on the emotion or if he sincerely regretted the way he’d treated the child.
Mary’s breath grew more ragged, and she cried out delirious in her half-conscious state. Lena tried to give her more tea, but the little girl couldn’t swallow it.
“Oh, Jesus, please save this precious child,” Lena whispered.
An instant later, Dagget scrambled to the floor beside his youngest daughter. He pulled her hand from beneath the quilt and held it firmly. “Mary, I want you to live. I know I’ve treated you bad, but if you’ll give me a chance—if God will give me a chance—I’ll make it up to you and your brothers and sisters.”
The door squeaked open, and Gabe walked in with Charles. The youth had aged years in a matter of hours. Weariness and a hint of sorrow settled on his features. Gabe’s gaze flew to Lena, questioning, wondering, and fearful.
“Charles wants to ride for the doctor, but I’ve explained the trek is too dangerous with all this snow. As long as there’s sunlight, he can find his way, but on a cloudy day, he’ll get lost.”
Lena nodded in agreement and turned her attention back to Mary. She saw the sorrow on Dagget’s face as he held Mary’s hand and shed one tear after another. Each time the child coughed, her whole body shook.
“There’s a bottle of paregoric under my bed,” Dagget said. “Would that help?”
Paregoric. Lena knew it contained opium, and some folks got so they had to have it all the time.
Gabe cleared his throat. “I’ve heard of its being used for cough before, although its primary use is stomach ailments.”
“Would it hurt her?” Amanda asked.
“I knew of a woman who became addicted to laudanum—a mixture of opium and alcohol—but we could try a little of the paregoric,” Gabe replied. “It’s up to you.”
Silence resounded from the walls of the small dugout.
“I think we should try anything that might help,” Charles finally said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “We have to do something.”
Gabe moved to Dagget’s bed and pulled out the small bottle from beneath it. “Let’s give her a dose. In the meantime, why don’t we call in the other children and pray together for Mary?”
A short while later, they all gathered together while Gabe prayed. “Lord Jesus, all of us have asked You today to spare this child and heal her. Now, we all are praying together. Hear our voices. We look to You for strength. Amen.”
❧
Later that afternoon, with no change in Mary, Gabe realized the necessity of making arrangements for Caleb and Simon. Pulling Lena aside, he shared his thoughts. “The boys ought to
get home. I’d like to escort you back. Then I’ll return to spend the night here.”
“Would you mind if I stayed the night instead?” She stared at the unconscious child, still and dangerously hot. Not once had she left Mary’s side with Amanda and Dagget.
“Of course not,” he replied. “Whatever happens, Amanda will need you.”
She reached for his hand, and he assisted her to her feet. “I’ll walk you outside.”
While Lena pulled on her coat, Gabe stepped around to Dagget’s side. “I’m going home with the boys, but Lena is staying the night.”
He nodded. “Uh. . .uh thank you for. . .today. I’ll not be forgetting it.”
Gabe grasped the man on his shoulder. “I’ll be by at daybreak.”
Gabe and his family stepped out of the dugout. Once the door shut behind them, Gabe voiced his concerns to Lena. “Do you think Dagget is harmless?”
“Yes, I believe so. Right now regret is eating him alive.”
“Do you think it will last?” Gabe remembered all his dealings with Dagget, and the thought of the man tossing his foul words at his precious wife alarmed him.
She shrugged and wrapped her arms around her. “I hope so. These children need him.”
“But he’s so mean, Mama,” Caleb said. “I don’t think he’ll ever change.”
“We have to give him a chance, just like the good Lord does for us,” Lena said.
Gabe hugged her and planted a light kiss on her lips. “I love you, Lena Hunters. Now, hurry on inside, before you get too cold.”
Caleb and Gabe trudged through the snow back to the farm, while Simon rode the horse. They all were quiet, including Simon, and it offered an opportunity for Gabe to reflect on the Shafers. Oh, how he wanted Mary to live, and how well he understood her desire to die. Children needed love to grow and flourish. Without it, they grew inward, as he’d done. Fortunately for him, he’d come to know a heavenly Father who’d changed his whole life.