I took the cup and saucer from her small hand and slowly sipped the tea, only to start coughing unexpectedly, which caused me to spit it out all over the bed. Polly rushed to take the cup. “Let me go find Doctor Heath,” she said, and left me trying to contain my unrelenting hacking.
Polly’s orders were to have Lizzy come to stand by me until she returned with Heath. The frail little girl could barely see over the bed. Her eyes were sunken and wide, and her face was most definitely as pale as mine. Yet she managed to dip the cloth into the cool water from the small bowl beside my bed stand and, on her tippy-toes, gently placed it on my forehead.
“Thank you, Lizzy,” I whispered to her and tried to smile.
She smiled back, and took my hand in her tiny frail one, then asked meekly, “Does your tummy hurt?”
I nodded and tiredly smiled again. “Just a little.”
“Polly ran for Doctor Heath. He has good medicine, the kind that makes tummies feel better,” she said in her wispy, little voice. “Ma’s tummy felt bad, too. But, she isn’t in bed anymore.”
“I’m glad she feels better.”
“Does your tummy hurt because you have a baby inside? Is that why it’s sick?” Lizzy asked, her pale blue eyes wide with fear that I might say yes.
“Don’t be dumb, Lizzy. Mrs. Dalton has a cold that’s all,” Sylvia snapped, appearing out of nowhere.
Lizzy instantly bowed her small head, causing her long, dull, reddish-brown hair to fall limp and cover her tiny face. Then she backed away and slowly disappeared behind her towering oldest sister.
“The doctor can’t get out of bed. He must have tried, for when Pa found him this morning he was lying on the floor by the door to his quarters,” she said nonchalantly as she sent Lizzy on her way. “Pa says he has to sleep his fever off.”
“Who is looking after him?” I asked, sickened even more to learn that Heath was so ill he’d passed out. I knew he must have been on his way to see me when he collapsed.
“We’re all taking turns, Ma says. Right now, she told me to check on you since Polly said you couldn’t eat. Luckily, Ma is better; otherwise, I would be doing everything. Bad enough Willard kept me up all night. He cries every time it rains.”
“So you weren’t up in the tower last night?” I asked through my terribly sore throat and dry, parched lips.
Sylvia’s eyes lit up at the thought, and then she smiled a cunning smile, and came to prop up my pillow without permission. “Well . . . I was up there for a while, until Pa was through eating the supper I prepared. In fact, he said I was almost as good a cook as Ma.”
I looked up at her, admiring her healthy glow and the pink in her smooth skin that traveled down her neck and to her ample bosom. I noticed one of her buttons undone, allowing her cleavage to be even more pronounced.
“Don’t you think your Ma needs more help? You shouldn’t be staying up in the watch room all hours.”
“Oh, Ma is fine. She’s as strong as an ox. Before long, she and Pa will be romping in bed, making another kid. And besides, she told me to go up and keep Mr. Dalton company, keep him from dozing off after being awake for two days.”
Sylvia stood back with her hands on her hips and admired her work. “There, that should make you more comfortable.”
“Ayden . . . is he resting now?”
She thought exaggeratingly hard for a moment while tapping her finger against her cheek, then, as if she miraculously remembered, said no.
Too tired to drag out of her where Ayden was, I closed my eyes and prepared to go to sleep, if I could actually fall asleep with all the pain in my chest and my throbbing headache.
“I’ll have Polly check on you in a little while. Have a good rest, Lill-i-an.”
The first thing I focused on when my eyes opened later that day was the light from the tower flickering off the calm ocean. I was relieved to finally have slept, and remarkably, I felt somewhat better. Yet, I was nowhere near ready to get out of bed. After sitting up, I heard voices in the hall. It sounded like Polly and Sylvia arguing. “It’s not yours! Give it back!”
“She gave it to me. Mind your own business!”
“I’m telling Pa.”
“Go ahead; tell him. He won’t believe you.”
With my eyes glued to the door, I listened as one of them stomped off, then watched as the door slowly opened. Before she could notice I was awake, I quickly closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep, peering through the narrow slits under my lids so I could see just enough.
Sylvia came close to the bed and peered down at me to see if I was awake. When she believed I was sleeping, she dropped the plate of food on the dresser, then went over to my dollhouse. She seemed almost too old to be playing with dolls. It was odd and somewhat frightening to hear her made up voice as she acted out the scene she created with them. “Lillian, my dear, you look awful. So sickly and pale; so very unattractive. You should take better care of yourself, like Sylvia,” she said in a pretend man’s voice. “Why, Ayden, you know I fell overboard in that horrible storm. I can’t help it if I caught a terrible chill,” she said, imitating me. “Tell me the truth, Lillian; was it my brother, the great doctor Heath, who pushed you over the side into the cold Atlantic? Did he do it after your incessant flirting? Had he had enough of your whorish ways? I know you want him; I see how you tease him with your eyes, how you lust after him.”
“No, Ayden, I’m not a whore anymore, I swear.”
So I wouldn’t cough, I held my breath as she continued with her disturbing play, but it wasn’t long before my lips parted from the strain, and I let out a huge gasp of air, followed by a long coughing spell.
Sylvia whirled about, startled, then gathered herself and rushed to my side, pretending to soothe me. “Easy, easy. Here, take a sip of water,” she said, and she brought the glass to my lips after the coughing subsided.
I took a sip and stared up at her with eyes I knew she felt burn her flesh. Her face flushed at first, then as I continued my penetrating stare, she looked away, and for the first time, I saw Sylvia intimidated by me.
“Get out of my room, Sylvia!” I hissed. “And stay away from my husband!”
“Why, Lillian, you must still be consumed with fever. Here, put this cloth on your head.” She reached over for the cloth, but I slapped her hand away, causing the bowl of soup to crash down to the floor, spilling all over.
Sylvia went to reach for the bowl and was startled when I found enough strength to snatch hold of the long braid of her hair and forcefully yank her up. She winced in pain, screaming, “Let go of me!”
“Did you hear me? You keep away, you hear?!”
“You’re crazy, just like your mother!”
Her words came at me like a slap in the face, and I instantaneously released my grip on her hair.
“That’s right, I know all about how she went insane, how she tried to kill herself and ended up in a crazy house!” she announced, while gathering her composure.
“Who told you that?” I choked, desperately fighting back the tears that were ready to escape at any moment.
“Ayden told me,” she said with a smug, satisfied smile. “Now, I have to get up to the tower. Ayden asked me to keep him company tonight. Says he hates being alone, likes the company of a pretty girl.”
“Go!” I exploded. “GET OUT!”
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
Too late
Sylvia left with a satisfied grin, and as soon as the door was closed I began to weep uncontrollably, until I was drained and weak. Then I curled up into a ball and descended into sleep, happy to have the opportunity to forget about what Sylvia had said and how Ayden had revealed such personal family secrets to her.
I was well enough the following morning to get out of bed with a little assistance from Polly. She was up early to bring me my breakfast, and then she took my dress from the closet and placed it on the foot of the bed as I had asked.
“Are you sure you are ready to get up, Mrs
. Dalton?” Polly asked with a concerned frown.
“Absolutely. I feel well enough. Tell me, Polly, is Doctor Heath still in bed?”
“He is still awful sick. Ma says he won’t take his medicine.”
“She’s been looking after him?”
“Ma and me and Mary.”
“I must go to him. Thank you, Polly, for taking such good care of me,” I said and placed a small kiss on her cheek. “You’re a kindhearted little girl.”
She smiled. “I was happy to help. Sure am glad you got better.” Then hurried out with my plate.
On my way out, I stopped before Ayden’s bedroom. He was in there resting peacefully. I heard him lightly snoring, unconcerned for me or his brother, and it hurt terribly to feel him pulling away. However, I had no time to dwell on Ayden’s betrayal. I needed to get to Heath right away. He needed me; I sensed him calling for me.
Hazel was attempting to have Heath sip some hot tea when I entered his tiny bedroom. His quarters were sparse, his room consisting of a bed, end table, and a small window above his bed that faced north. The shutters were closed, blocking the view and shutting off natural light. The room was stuffy, and I was nearly overcome with the stench of kerosene from the lone lamp. Hazel put the teacup down and came to me as I stepped into the room. “He won’t eat, won’t drink, and won’t take his medicine. Found some cough syrup in his black bag over there. Man is the most stubborn I have ever met,” she said just above a whisper.
“I’ll take over from here, Hazel.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, peering close into my face. “Did you shake that awful cold?”
“I’m better, thanks to the girls and your chicken soup,” I said with genuine gratitude.
“Tell the doctor to take in some of my soup. Then maybe he’ll stop moaning and groaning and finally clear up his lungs so he can take a breath without having a coughing attack that leaves him drained,” Hazel said loud enough for Heath to hear, then departed, returning to her daily grind.
I left the door to his bedroom open, then went straight to his window, reached over his bed, and threw open the shutters.
“Close them,” he groaned.
With the light of day now shining into the room, Heath’s poor condition was instantly revealed. He was as white as a ghost, his cheeks hollow under his newly acquired beard, his blue eyes bleak, dull, and sunken. He had lost so much weight he was almost unrecognizable. “Oh, Heath!” I gasped.
He opened his exceedingly weary eyes, fighting the light, and then was instantly overcome with a severe coughing fit. I grabbed the medicine bottle and filled up the spoon left beside it.
“You will take your medicine,” I insisted when he finally stopped coughing.
He closed his eyes and listlessly nodded in agreement. I sighed with relief and gently parted his lips with the spoon. Slowly, Heath took in the liquid. Swallowing was difficult, for his throat was raw from choking and hacking up the vile green and yellow mucus that filled his lungs.
“Why are you not fighting this? It’s as if you want this illness to win,” I said, and I took hold of his limp hand. “Is the doctor a hypocrite? He insists on others taking their medicine, but won’t do so himself?
“Lillian, please,” he moaned, unhappy with my lashing.
“I am not leaving your side until you have recovered, you hear me, Heath Dalton? You will take your medicine, eat your soup, and drink your tea! Do you understand? What would we do here without you?” I said, choking back my tears. “Lizzy needs you. I see how lovingly you look after her. She is sicker than they realize. And the others . . . won’t you think of them?”
Heath mustered up enough strength to open his bleak eyes and stare helplessly at me. He looked so pitiful, and it pained me terribly to see him frail and feeble. Heath was always strong, even after his accident. His strength came from within, though now he seemed to be mysteriously lost, his strength of mind forsaken.
“There is nothing you need to say,” I said abruptly and released his hand. “I will get you a bowl of Hazel’s healing soup and be right back.”
“Lillian,” he called out in a short, wispy breath.
“No arguing. I know what you are worried about, but I am well enough to look after you.”
He again allowed his tired lids to close over his somnolent eyes and tried to smile, but his lips were so dry they instantly cracked.
As soon as I was outside, I took a long awaited breath. I didn’t want Heath to see my concern; he didn’t need be to made aware of how troubled I truly was.
Hazel was elated when I came into the kitchen for soup. “I knew you would make all the difference,” she said, dipping the spoon into the giant pot. “Through his feverish state he has been calling for you,” she added, without looking my way.
“I know this isn’t an easy time for you; I’m sorry about your loss,” I said solemnly, without addressing her remark about Heath.
She carefully handed me the bowl of hot soup. “There isn’t a thing I can do to change what happened. A new life will come when God sees fit. There are things in life we can’t do anything about, and then there are things we can do everything about. Take this to him and make him well. He has held out long enough, the foolish man that he is. He will wait a lifetime for you,” she whispered secretively into my ear. I timidly turned and locked eyes with hers. Hazel wasn’t exactly book smart, and there were times when her forthrightness shocked and appalled me. However, this time her candidness was spoken out of sincere thoughtfulness and consideration and laced with acute significance.
“It’s not what you think. I would do the same for any of you,” I replied softly, hoping she wasn’t aware of how fast my heart raced.
She placed her hand on my wrist as we both gazed down at the soup that was about to spill over. “Steady. Don’t want to spill the soup before you get it to him.”
I laughed nervously, and then took small, steady steps until I turned the corner, where I was blocked by the side of the house and out of her view. Then I took a few minutes to recover from what she’d revealed, and composed myself, putting the vision of Heath tossing and turning, crying out for me, out of my mind. I didn’t want to know any of that. I was only going to make him well. I would do that for anyone, even Sylvia. We were all family, as Ayden said.
With my composure in place, I brought myself back into Heath’s quarters and gently woke him. It was difficult to watch him struggle. I helped prop him up just enough so the soup would glide down his throat and not dribble down his chin. I kept a cloth tucked in the collar of his nightshirt, which he insisted I remove. “I’m not a baby,” he muttered and went to pull it out.
“You certainly are acting like one,” I said sharply and tucked it back in even further.
“This is silly,” he groaned.
“Just stop fighting me, Heath. The sooner you resign yourself to the fact you are sick - very sick - and need help, the sooner you will get better.”
“You are still just as stubborn as when you were a young girl,” he said weakly.
I smiled, happy to know he remembered. “That’s right, Heath. You know what I’m like if I don’t get my way,” I said playfully. That caused him chuckle, which in turn caused more and more coughing. I soothed him by rubbing his back, the way Ayden had briefly done for me.
“In a few days you will be feeling better. Hazel’s soup must have magic powders in it,” I said. I sat down for a moment in the small chair beside the bed and poured a small glass of water and dipped my finger far enough in to gather a few droplets, then gently placed them along his dry lips. Heath stared up at me, drinking me in. His breathing was slow and shallow and so tight it only moved a few strands of hair that lingered near his face as I leaned over. “There, that’s a bit better,” I said, and awkwardly pulled back.
“Lillian?”
“Yes?” I replied, sitting back down. He took my hand in his and I instantly noticed the momentous concern on his weary face.
“I have
something I need to tell you. I was going to tell you when we returned from the mainland on the night of the storm.” He was struggling too much to speak, and I worried he would start choking.
“Tell me when you feel better.”
“It’s important,” he said with pleading eyes. “I need you to listen.”
“Not now.” I anxiously stood up. “I’m going to gather books, and I will read to you until you fall asleep. And, even after you fall asleep, I will still read.”
Just then, to my relief, Mary appeared. It wasn’t unusual for any of the Cooper children to be hidden around a corner. As long as it wasn’t Sylvia, I was delighted to see them.
“Mary, sweet Mary. Come in and sit with Doctor Heath while I go find him a few of his favorite books.” I pulled her into the room and sat her down, not allowing myself to look at Heath. “Recite one of your rhymes, Mary.”
Mary loved to sing songs and recite nursery rhymes. Her face lit up at my suggestion and after properly adjusting her dress so it fanned out around her dangling little legs, she went right into it. “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall . . .”
I was quiet so as not to wake Ayden when I passed his bedroom, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door flew open.
“Ayden!”
“There you are. I had just stopped in to see you, but you were gone and your bed was made. I didn’t realize you were up and about,” he said, greeting me with a light kiss on the cheek after closing the door quickly behind him.
“If you would have come to see me more regularly . . .”
Ayden threw his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m here to make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me?”
“I remember how you wanted me to take a few days off, and now your wish has been granted,” he said with a handsome grin and came to hold me.
I was stunned. I couldn’t have ever guessed Ayden would come around and take time off from his duties.
“We can go on a short honeymoon. I have put some money aside, just for the occasion. I know I have been a fool lately. Give me a chance to make it up to you. We can go anywhere. Name the place. It doesn‘t matter where we go, as long as I get you all to myself,” he murmured into my ear. Ayden’s actions and emotions were as unpredictable as the weather, and left me confused. He sensed my uncertainty as I pulled back. “You do feel well enough to travel, don’t you?”
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 84