Almost Home

by Valerie Fraser Luesse

  “Can’t you give her anything for the pain?” Dolly asked.

  “Not for two hours. I gave her a mild sedative, but the medicine I’d need to give her for that kind of pain can cause hallucinations itself, so before we do that, we need to make sure she’s not having any from the bite. Reed, I’m assuming you know how to administer morphine?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then I’ll leave her medication and some syringes on the nightstand. If she hasn’t had any hallucinations by exactly two o’clock—and not a minute before—give her a dose, then continue that every four hours for the next two days, or as long as she thinks she needs it. That’s a good field dressing you did. I put a fresh one on, and I’ll leave what you need to change it till I can get back over here.”

  “Thank you,” Reed said.

  “I’ll come by to check on her at the end of the week unless you need me before then.”

  “God bless you, Dr. Sesser,” Dolly said. She and the others stood to thank him, then she went with Si and Evelyn to see him to his car.

  Anna followed Reed to Daisy’s room. The fever and chills had begun. Daisy’s face was flushed and beaded with sweat, while her body was shaking.

  “She’s cold,” Anna said. She ran upstairs and came back down carrying her mother’s quilts that she had brought from Illinois.

  As Reed helped her spread the quilts, he considered explaining that Daisy’s chill was coming from the inside, a place quilts couldn’t warm, but thought better of it. He could see that Anna needed to feel like she was helping. And he tried to push from his mind all the times he had seen soldiers die from the trauma of being shot or burned before their actual wounds had time to kill them.

  Sitting down at Daisy’s bedside, he blotted her forehead with a cool cloth. Anna climbed onto the bed, lying down on top of her mother’s quilts and putting an arm around Daisy to keep her warm. The two of them there, huddled together against the world, brought back painful memories of another friend, one Reed had clung to and lost on a battlefield far from home. He felt his eyes begin to sting and the familiar racing of his heart as a wave of sorrow threatened to take him under.

  “Hey, Jesse,” Reed said softly as his upstairs neighbor came into the room, setting a supper tray from Dolly on top of Reed’s chest of drawers.

  “How’s she doing?” Jesse asked.

  “Pretty quiet now. She gets restless about a half hour before every dose o’ morphine, but she’s easy now. Pull up a chair.”

  Jesse carried a small chair closer to Daisy’s bedside, where Reed was still sitting.

  “What about that one?” Jesse smiled and pointed to Anna, fast asleep. Reed had covered her with a light throw when it started raining and cooling off early in the evening.

  “Hasn’t budged.”

  “They’re joined at the hip, those two. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend as close as they are. You?”

  “Just once.”

  Daisy stirred and mumbled, “Catherine . . .”

  “Guess she’s dreamin’ about Catherine and her pirate,” Reed said.

  “Lucky for both of us ol’ Andre’s dead—that guy woulda been some serious competition.” Jesse nodded toward Daisy.

  “Ain’t nowhere near that,” Reed muttered.

  Jesse smiled and said, “For now.” He gave Reed a pat on the back as he stood up to go. “If I can help you, just come and get me.”

  “Reed!”

  He had nodded off in the rocking chair Dolly brought him and now awoke with a start to see Daisy sitting straight up in bed.

  “Reed!” she called again, which woke Anna.

  “I’m right here,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed.

  “Reed!”

  “What’s the matter with her?” Anna sat up next to Daisy. “She’s not having those awful hallucinations, is she?”

  “Not from snake venom.” Reed took Daisy’s face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “I think she’s still asleep—just with her eyes open.”

  “Can people do that?”

  “Seen it a few times.”

  “Reed!” Daisy called one more time.

  “Daisy!” He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “I’m right here.”

  For just a second he saw her eyes focus as if she were fully conscious. Then she frowned, shook her head, and said, “You wanna go somewhere?” With that, she fell straight back in the bed and was asleep again.

  Anna and Reed looked at each other, then back at Daisy. And then they both started laughing—that giddy, uncontrollable laughter that comes with mind-numbing exhaustion.

  “You mind if I go upstairs?” Anna asked when they finally settled down.

  “You can’t do anything for her till she wakes up. Go get some rest.”

  “Can I bring you something from the kitchen?” Anna asked at the bedroom door.

  “Thank you, but I had plenty from Dolly’s tray.”

  Anna picked up the tray on her way out and closed the door quietly behind her. Reed checked his watch. One o’clock in the morning. He carefully filled another syringe, blotted Daisy’s arm with alcohol, and gave her the shot that would see her through till daylight. She was sweating off her fever. They would have to change the bed in the morning, but for now he let her rest.

  His leg was throbbing. Sitting up all day without stretching it had made it so stiff that he could hardly stand, let alone walk. As exhausted as he was, the spot Anna had vacated became irresistible. Taking off his shoes, he limped to the other side of the bed, stretched out on top of the mountain of quilts covering Daisy, and fell asleep.

  CHAPTER

  twenty-five

  Reed sat bolt upright in bed. The window shade had somehow loosened itself and rolled up with a loud whap in the wee hours of the morning. Daisy was still sound asleep. Something was off. Something was out of place. He checked his watch—3:00 a.m. Earlier in the evening, he had opened the back door to let in a breeze from the screened porch. That’s where the trouble was. Out there.

  He quietly stepped onto the porch and listened. Movement—in the woods maybe? When he turned on the outside light, it stopped. Silence. He stood there and listened, but it was gone. Just to be on the safe side, he closed the door and locked it before lying back down and falling asleep.

  Dolly looked out the window and peered into the early morning darkness. She and Si were getting dressed for their morning chores.

  “Somethin’ wrong, Dolly?”

  She clasped her hands together beneath her chin and gave a little shiver. “I can’t shake the feeling that somethin’s . . . I don’t know . . . goin’ on out there.”

  “Like what?”

  “That’s the trouble—I got no idea. You know what worries me the most, Si? Little Mama always said bad things come in clusters. That means more’s comin’. Why’d somebody as special as Daisy have to be number one?”

  “Why anything, Dolly? We don’t get to see the whole map. We just have to cover our stretch o’ the road best we can.” Si kissed her on the cheek and offered her his arm. “Shall we make our way to your skillets and my milk cow, madam?”

  Reed woke up and looked at his watch—5:30 a.m. He turned over to find Daisy awake and staring at him, groggy but wide-eyed.

  “What in the . . . Sam Hill . . . happened?” she asked, her words slurring from the drugs.

  “Nothin’ happened—I mean, well, a lot happened—I just got really tired and had to sleep for a while.” He got up as quickly as he could, limped around the bed to Daisy’s side, and sat down next to her.

  “You’re walkin’ . . . terrible.”

  “I know.” Reed laid his hand on her forehead to see if she was still hot.

  She was looking around, trying to get her bearings. He could tell she was still in a morphine fog. Suddenly, her mouth flew open. “What am I . . . doin’ . . . in your broom—I mean, your room?”

  He blotted her face with a cool cloth. “You’ve been fightin’ a fever since yesterday afternoon,
but it looks like it finally broke. Do you remember a snakebite?”

  “A shnake bite? When did . . . what?”

  “Yesterday. When you and Anna were in the garden.”

  Daisy rubbed her eyes as if that might help her focus. She looked at Reed and thought for a minute. “It bit me . . . on my foot?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Hurts.”

  “I know. I did what I could for you and then Anna called a doctor. He told me to give you morphine every four hours to keep the pain under control. You’re due for another shot right now.”

  “Wait . . . I’m so blurry.”

  “Okay. But you need to let me know before it gets really bad.”

  Daisy nodded. She was frowning at him as if she were trying hard to figure out something on his face. “Can we back up?”

  “Sure.”

  “Me and Anna were pickin’ beans . . .”

  “That’s right.”

  “Snake bit me.”

  “A copperhead.”

  “It hurt . . . real bad . . . burned.”

  “Are you hurtin’ bad now?”

  Daisy shook her head. “I was . . . scared . . . You said . . . breathe slow.”

  Reed nodded.

  “And you cut me.”

  “To get the poison out.”

  “How’d . . . how’d I get here?”

  “I carried you.”

  “Musta . . . hurt . . . your leg.”

  “I really didn’t have time to think about that. Here, while you’re awake try to drink some water.” Reed raised her up in the bed and let her lean against his shoulder while she drank as much as she could, then got her settled back down on the pillows.

  “Why . . . am I . . . in here?”

  “This was just the quickest place I could find to lay you down. After the doctor saw you, Dolly and Evelyn and Anna stayed in here with us till suppertime. Then Dolly and Evelyn left, but Anna slept next to you till about one o’clock this mornin’. I sent her off to bed to get some rest till you woke up. Those are her quilts you’re buried under.”

  Daisy gave a weak smile. “She always . . . wants to make it butter . . . I mean batter . . . Dang . . . my foot hurts, Reed.”

  He was giving her another shot when Anna came into the room. “I’m your relief,” she said. “And I’m kicking you out. Go get some breakfast.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Reed left Daisy in her friend’s care. He could hear the morning chatter as he approached the dining room. Once again he struggled with the strangeness of it—pain and morphine in one room, coffee and conversation in the next—and wondered if he would ever be able to reconcile the two.

  “Anna?” Dolly softly called as she opened the door to Reed’s bedroom, where Daisy was sound asleep and Anna was blotting her forehead with a damp cloth. “Honey, I’ve got somethin’ for you.”

  “What is it, Dolly?”

  Anna could see that Dolly was holding a small package about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in plain brown paper.

  “Looka here,” Dolly said. The package had “To Anna” written across the top.

  “For me? Where did it come from?”

  “I don’t know. It was on the front porch when I went out to water my ferns.” Dolly handed the box to Anna.

  “Let’s see what’s inside.” As Dolly sat down in a rocker by the bed, Anna tore the paper off the package. She opened the box, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, Dolly, could this possibly be what I think it is?” She reached into the box and pulled out a leather journal. “I don’t think I’ve got the nerve to open it.”

  “Sure you do, honey.”

  Anna opened the book and read, “‘April 20, 1844. Dear Self . . .’”

  For a split second, she and Dolly stared at each other, but then they were both hugging, trying to contain their excitement so they wouldn’t make too much noise and wake Daisy.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you!” Dolly loudly whispered.

  “But Dolly, who gave this to me? There are no markings on it anywhere.”

  “I don’t know, but that don’t make it any less real. You gonna read it?”

  Anna thought it over. “No. Not until we can all read it together. Not until Daisy’s up to it.”

  Dolly smiled. “You’re a mighty good friend to have, Anna. Your mama raised you right.”

  CHAPTER

  twenty-six

  “Well, good morning—actually, good afternoon,” Evelyn said from her chair by the bed as Daisy rubbed her eyes.

  “Hey, Evelyn.” Daisy looked around. “What time is it?”

  “A quarter after twelve. How do you feel?”

  “Like a train hit me. I think . . . I think I’m done . . . with that morphine.”

  “Well, I imagine we should consult Reed about that.”

  “Is he . . . is he here?”

  “Yes. He’s in the kitchen. The others are at church.”

  “Is it Sunday?”

  “That’s right. May I do anything for you—some water perhaps?”

  Daisy nodded and let Evelyn help her sit up and take a drink. “I think I want to . . . stay up for a while,” she said when Evelyn tried to help her back down.

  Evelyn fluffed Daisy’s pillows and put an extra one behind her back for support.

  “Thanks,” Daisy said.

  “Do you feel as if you might become nauseated again?”

  “Again?”

  “Oh, yes, dear. You’ve had quite a time with nausea.”

  “I think I’m okay right now.”

  They heard a car in the driveway, and soon the church group was surrounding Daisy.

  “How do you feel?” Anna asked, sitting down on the bed.

  “Wonderful,” Daisy said. “How do I look?”

  “Gorgeous.”

  “Liar.”

  “Miss Daisy, it’s mighty good to see you awake and full o’ mischief again,” Si said.

  “Oh, honey, we’ve been so worried!” Dolly shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have nothin’ to be sorry for,” Si said. “Where’s Reed?”

  “Cooking lunch for everyone,” Evelyn reported.

  Dolly and Anna said it at the same time: “Reed can cook?”

  “Yes, he can,” Reed said as he stepped into the bedroom. “But nothin’ like Miss Dolly, so don’t expect too much.”

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Dolly said. “Let’s all go fix us a plate and bring it in here with Daisy. Reed and Daisy, I’ll fix both o’ yours. It’ll be just like a picnic, only without the bugs.”

  “Why, that’s a fine idea!” Evelyn agreed.

  “If y’all will excuse me from the festivities, I promised Dolly I’d carry a Sunday plate up to Lillian,” Si told them. “Think I’ll take one for myself and keep her comp’ny for a little while.”

  “Joe and I can deliver Ella’s lunch and look in on her,” Harry said.

  Everybody else headed for the kitchen as Reed sat down by Daisy. “How we doin’?”

  “My whole foot . . . kinda feels . . . like it’s on fire.”

  “You’re about due for a shot.”

  “That morphine just makes me so . . . so crazy-headed. Are you gettin’ any sleep at all . . . havin’ to doctor me every four hours?”

  “Sure.”

  Daisy stared at him for the longest time. “I might be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

  Just as he was about to answer, they heard the others coming.

  “Here you go,” Dolly said. “Anna, honey, how ’bout pullin’ that little table there by Daisy’s bed.” She set two plates down on the table as Reed brought in some chairs.

  Anna brought tea for everybody and climbed into the bed next to Daisy, propping against some pillows and holding her plate in her lap.

  “I prob’ly don’t smell so good,” Daisy said.

  “That’s okay—I’ll stay upwind.”

  Daisy looked around the room and pointed to something on
Reed’s chest of drawers. “Hey, what’s that doin’ in here? Y’all been rereadin’ Catherine’s journal to pass the time?”

  “I’ve been dying for you to wake up so I could tell you,” Anna said. “That’s not the same journal we all read together. It’s the next part of Catherine’s story—her second journal.”

  “Where’d you get it?”

  “Well, that’s the really strange part. It just appeared on Dolly’s front porch, wrapped in brown paper with my name on it.”

  “But . . . where’d it come from?”

  “We don’t know, honey,” Dolly said.

  “Did y’all read it?”

  “We did not,” Evelyn said. “We all agreed that we would not read one word until you could enjoy it with us. We entrusted the journal to Reed to keep us honest.”

  “Did you read the rest of it?” Daisy asked him.

  “Just a little bit.” Reed handed the journal to her. “I think it’d make me blush, though, to read it with you ladies.”

  “What are we waitin’ for?” Daisy said. “Here, Anna—let’s make Reed blush.” She passed the journal to Anna, who began to read.

  April 20, 1844

  Dear Self,

  My wedding was everything I knew it would be—wholly orchestrated by Father for Father. Andrew and I said our vows immediately following the Easter Sunday sermon—

  “Anna, read that date again,” Daisy said.

  “April 20, 1844.”

  “You know what that means?”

  “No, what?”

  “The last time she wrote was at the end o’ March, and she said she was gettin’ married in a week. She’s writin’ this on April 20.”

  “Then they didn’t drown on their wedding day!”