by Amy Lillard
“This is perfect. Danki.”
His mother gave a quick nod. It seemed like she wanted to say more, but she shook her head and swallowed hard. “I’m going to bed now. Let me know if you need anything.”
Jonah nodded.
“Anything at all,” his mother repeated.
But all he needed was his wife to wake up and start arguing with him about something. Anything, as long as she was okay. But there was no one on earth who could give that to him.
Jonah was just about to start changing her clothes when Buddy burst through the front door. He removed his coat and hat and hung them by the front door, then toed off his black walking shoes. “Is she awake?” he asked.
“Not yet.” He hoped those words proved true. If she wasn’t awake yet it meant she would wake up. Eventually.
“I need to change her clothes,” Jonah said with a nod.
“You do. And I need to go upstairs while you do that.”
“It’s time for bed, Buddy. Maybe you should try to get some sleep.”
He could see his brother was torn between wanting to do as Jonah had asked and needing to see this thing with Sarah through.
“Will you come get me when she wakes up?”
“I think she’ll sleep through the night.” At least that was what he hoped. That she would sleep through the night, heal from the blows she had suffered, then wake in the morning her argumentative and stubborn self.
But she didn’t look like his strong-willed wife. She looked soft and fragile, like a china doll he had seen once at the mall. She looked as if one solid blow would break her all apart.
Where had his Sarah gone?
He barely registered Buddy’s retreating footsteps as he gingerly uncovered his wife. Her skin still held a bluish tint, and it scared him. How long had she been exposed to the elements? In his daze, he couldn’t remember passing her tractor, but visibility had gotten worse and worse as he had driven home. He could have gone right past it with only inches to spare and never seen it sitting there.
As gently as he could, he removed her dress. She was soaked through to the skin. He rubbed her with a towel to warm her, all the while saying quick little prayers that everything would be all right. It had to be all right. He didn’t know what he would do otherwise.
She stirred, her blue eyes open, but not quite focused. “Jonah?”
“Shhh,” he said. “I’m here. Just rest now. We can talk in the morning.”
He used that time to pull the nightdress over her head. It was miles too big for her, so he tucked it around her, hoping the extra fabric would do its job to keep her warm.
“Okay.” She snuggled down into the blanket and closed her eyes.
He leaned in purely on instinct and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She smiled and released a small sigh.
Everything was going to be all right. He just knew it.
* * *
But with the morning came a fever.
His mamm pressed the back of one hand to Sarah’s forehead. “She’s burning up.”
He could see that without laying a hand on her. Where last night her cheeks had been the color of cool buttermilk, today they were pink like the flowers his mother grew at the edge of the garden.
As pink as the dress she had worn the night before.
The dress was still hanging by the fire where he had placed it to dry. He had stayed up most of the night, holding her hand and just being close to her. He felt responsible. She had left the party because he had told her that he wanted to sell the house. He could see that the words had adversely affected her. And heaven help him he had wanted to get a reaction from her. He wanted her to say something, anything, to him, so he had said the most hurtful thing he could think of. Sarah loved that house, or at least that was what she said. And he knew she would be sad if he sold it.
The plan hadn’t come to him until that very moment. In an instant he’d known that it was a logical plan. He would sell the house and move in with his parents, or Luke Lambright. But more than anything, he had wanted to shock Sarah.
Boy, had that worked. She had run off in the snow, risking life and limb to get away from him. This was all his fault.
“Do something to help her.” He looked to his mamm. She was the one person he could always depend on, but he knew that this was out of her hands.
She pressed her lips together and gave her head a little shake. “I’ll get her some Tylenol and a wet rag.”
Jonah looked out the window to all the snow piled all around. The sun was shining and the temperature was above freezing, but it would be a couple of days before the roads were clear enough for them to get out. He didn’t know what he would do. He had to help her. He had to.
His mother came back in with a glass of water, two small pills, and a wet washrag.
Jonah knelt by the couch and lightly shook Sarah’s shoulder. “Sarah.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to try again. “Sarah.” Louder this time.
Her eyelashes fluttered, then she peered at him. Her eyes looked at him, but it wasn’t as if she truly saw him at all.
“Sarah, sit up and take this medicine.” He slipped one hand behind her and helped her to sit up enough to take the pills, then settled her back onto the couch. He folded the washrag and laid it across her forehead. He wasn’t sure what a wet rag would actually do to help, but it seemed to be his mother’s solution in times like these, and he couldn’t question her judgment this far in.
Sarah shuddered. “So cold,” she murmured. “Cold.”
Jonah pulled the blankets farther up on her shoulders and tucked them in to cut out the chill. But he knew that the cold came from inside. He could only pray that the Tylenol and the cool rag could work a miracle. Somehow in his gut, he knew that would be the only thing that could help.
* * *
“Her parents called on the phone and left a message.” Buddy slammed the door behind him as he hustled back into the house just after noon.
Jonah stirred, surprised he had been asleep. He had pulled a kitchen chair into the living room so he could sit close to Sarah, just in case she woke up, her fever broke, and she needed him.
He placed a finger over his lips to quiet his brother, but Sarah didn’t stir, and that worried him. He felt helpless and useless and worthless.
“What did they say?”
“They left a message. They said they were glad to hear that she was okay and to have her call home later.” His gaze dropped as he studied Sarah’s flushed face. “She’s not going to call, is she?”
“Of course she is.” It was a lie, but he wanted to believe it. He didn’t know what was wrong with her, if she had the flu or pneumonia. The Tylenol hadn’t touched her fever. He wasn’t sure what would. She needed a doctor. But there was half a foot of snow on the ground with drifts twice that high. Until the sun melted some of it away, no one was going anywhere anytime soon.
Buddy continued to stare at Sarah. “Is she going to be okay, Jonah? And don’t lie to me.”
“Why would I lie to you?”
Buddy propped his hands on his hips and swung his gaze to Jonah. “You don’t think I know all of you lie to me when it suits you?”
Was that how he saw it? “We love you.” It was the best excuse he had without admitting what his brother said was true.
“You’re not supposed to lie to the people you love.”
Jonah opened his mouth to respond, but no words would come out. Buddy’s words struck him like a poorly thrown baseball.
Had he been doing that? Lying to the people he loved? Only if he loved Sarah.
He looked into the flushed face of his wife and he knew. He loved her. He wasn’t sure when it happened. So much had transpired between them. So many bad memories, but they were mixed with good ones, the two of them buying a house, sharing a meal, working side by side getting the house ready to live in. All the while knowing they had a baby on the way.
Then tragedy had struck and the good times had turned sour.
But Sarah had left. And he had let her. He had hurt her.
And now . . .
“Jonah?” Buddy knelt beside him.
Tears slid down Jonah’s face. “What am I going to do if she’s not okay?”
Buddy crunched Jonah in a Buddy-sized hug and rocked him from side to side. It might not have been the gentlest embrace, but it was exactly what Jonah needed. He’d spent his life taking care of Buddy and redirecting him when the time warranted it. It was only right that his brother comfort him in this time of need.
“Shhh,” Buddy crooned. “Don’t talk like that. She’s going to be okay. Let’s pray for her.”
Buddy released Jonah to kneel beside him. He wrapped Jonah’s hand in his own and bowed his head. Jonah had no idea what he prayed for, only that he squeezed Buddy’s hands tight as if the touch alone was a direct line to God.
Maybe it was.
Jonah could only hope and continue to pray. He couldn’t lose his wife now, not after he’d finally found her.
* * *
Sarah felt as if she was floating on a sea of red. Everything should have been hot. She could almost see the smoke, but she was cold. So very cold. How did she get here, on this crimson ocean? And what was sitting on her chest?
She couldn’t breathe, not well, anyway, and each breath of air she managed to drag into her lungs burned like fire.
She was floating, of that she was certain, but she felt anchored. Someone had her hand. She looked down, but her vision was blurry, or was that the smoke? She couldn’t tell.
“Jonah?” She tried to shout for him, but she couldn’t manage more than a squeak. Why did she call out for him? He despised her. At the very least he hated being married to her. She should call for her mother or Annie, someone who loved and cared about her, but she had used up all of her strength.
The snow. Now she remembered. That was how she got here. It started snowing and she was walking, then . . . nothing. But snow wasn’t red and it certainly wasn’t hot. But she was cold, she reminded herself. So very cold. She needed to speak to someone about starting a fire. A real fire, not this red light that surrounded her. Yes, a fire. That was what she needed. And she would ask for it, right after a little nap. After all, she was so very tired.
Sarah closed her eyes on the endless waters of red and drifted off to sleep once again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Two days after the snowstorm, the roads were clear enough to travel.
Mamm had kept Sarah’s fever at a manageable level using the medicines they had on hand, but Jonah had endured all he could. He was taking her to the doctor. She had the flu or pneumonia or something, and it was more than he knew how to take care of. Only the weather had kept him from taking her, but now that the roads were passable, he was having her seen to.
“Did you sleep here all night again?”
Jonah lifted his chin from his chest and stretched from side to side. “Jah.”
His mamm came down the steps, her face freshly washed and her prayer kapp pinned firmly in place. “You need to sleep in your bed, son. A chair is no place to rest your body.”
She had a point, but he didn’t want to leave Sarah, not even for a minute. If her fever broke, he wanted to be right there. If she woke and needed something, he wanted to get it for her immediately. He couldn’t leave her, not when he had only just found her.
She had been right there all the time, but he had been too blind to notice. Well, no more. Never again.
“I’m taking her to the doctor today.”
Mamm looked out at the melting snow. “You should call Bruce.”
He shook his head. He didn’t want to wait. He could take her into Wells Landing, and if she was too sick for the clinic to handle, they could take her up to Pryor. But the main thing was to get her to help as quickly as possible.
“Jonah?”
He spun around to see Sarah finally awake. Her cheeks had lost their too-pink hue, though her voice held a rusty, unused quality. “Sarah,” he breathed. He was by her side in an instant as she struggled to sit up.
“Where am I?”
“You’re at my parents’ house. Don’t you remember?”
She shook her head, then reached up as if to search for her prayer kapp or maybe the reason why her hair was hanging down around her shoulders.
“Your tractor ran out of gas and it started to snow. Buddy and I brought you here.”
Her expression was beyond confused, but he could almost see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. She had to be remembering something, he just didn’t know what. He could only hope that she didn’t remember their fight in the classroom at the rec center or the things he had said about selling the house. But judging by the hurt light creeping into her eyes, she remembered at least some of it.
“I want to go home.”
“The roads are a mess, but in a day or two I can take you back to our house. Where you belong.”
She shook her head, then closed her eyes as if the motion caused her great pain. Or maybe she was just dizzy.
“You haven’t had much to eat or drink for a couple of days.”
“A couple of days?” she whispered.
“I’ll get her something.” Mamm bustled from the room.
“Lie back down.” He clasped her shoulders and did his best to get her to relax back on the sofa. But she didn’t want to, her body straining against his even as she reclined against the cushions.
“I don’t want to. I want to go home.”
He was saved an answer as his mamm hurried back into the room with a glass of orange juice and large piece of white bread.
“Eat this. You’ll feel better.”
She shook her head, but accepted the juice. “My throat hurts.”
At least she would get some nourishment. He had a feeling she had been letting herself go in the last couple of weeks. That would explain all the weight loss and how hard the flu had hit her.
She drank only half of the juice, then settled back down. “I’m going to rest for a while, and then I want to go home. To my parents’ house.” She sounded like a spoiled child.
“We’ll see,” he said, unwilling to agree or disagree. He wasn’t taking her anywhere but to the doctor, then to the house they shared to start their lives—their marriage—over again.
* * *
Sarah slept off and on for the remainder of the day. Since her fever had broken, Jonah opted not to risk the roads and take her into the doctor, but he stayed by her side in case she needed anything.
She refused food, but he managed to get two cups of warm coffee down her to go with the juice. He would feel so much better if she ate, but she was on the mend, and that was really all he could ask for.
“Are you going to just watch her sleep all day?” Buddy asked. He came down the stairs, pulling on layers of clothing. “Jonathan and I are going to build a snowman with Prudy.”
Just then his baby sister skipped down the stairs wearing no more than her dress and a pair of flat girlie shoes.
“Prudence Ann Miller. You get back up those stairs right now and get on a pair of long johns and pants before you come back down.”
Jonah thought she might protest, but she seemed to sense her mother’s bulldog attitude and reluctantly trudged back up the stairs.
“And don’t forget the hat I crocheted for you.”
“Yes, Mamm.” But Prudy’s voice sounded anything but enthusiastic, and had Jonah not been so worried about Sarah he probably would’ve laughed.
His mother shook her head and disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Go out with us,” Buddy said.
Jonah shook his head. “I need to be here for Sarah.”
Buddy studied him, his blue eyes intense. Jonah knew that a lot of people felt Buddy’s
intelligence was less than average, but what he lacked in book learning he more than made up for in wisdom. “If you love her, why do you live apart?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Everybody always says that. But I think that’s just an excuse for you don’t know.” And with that Buddy marched to the front door, pulled on his coat, his hat, and his boots, and made his way out into the snow.
“Wait for me!” Prudy ran down the stairs, her rubber boots clunking against the floor as she hurried along. She grabbed her coat and followed behind Buddy. Jonah noticed she didn’t have her hat.
A few seconds later Jonathan came down the stairs bundled up like Jonah’s other siblings and carrying Prudy’s hat. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” he asked.
“I’m sure.”
“Suit yourself.” With a jaunty wave, Jonathan followed Prudy and Buddy out the door.
* * *
Someone had tied cinder blocks to her arms and legs. And to her eyelids too. Sarah felt heavy and sleepy, the floating sensation giving way to a sinking feeling she couldn’t seem to shake.
She was at Jonah’s house, and he was there with her. She still wasn’t certain how she ended up at the Millers’ house, but here she was. No denying it.
She felt a warm touch and knew someone had pushed the hair back from her face. She sighed and snuggled a little deeper into the blankets covering her. She was tired, so very tired, and heavy. She couldn’t have moved if she had wanted to.
She was sick. That much she knew, but she would worry about that later. When she wasn’t so very sleepy.
* * *
“I wish she would eat something.” Jonah’s voice floated to her from very far away.
“She’ll eat when she’s ready. Right now her body is trying to heal itself. You’re going to have to be patient.”
Who were they talking about? Whoever it was must be pretty bad off, judging by the level of concern in their voices. But she didn’t have time to worry about anyone else right now. Her limbs felt lighter than they had before, but she was still as weak as a kitten. And all she wanted to do was sleep. Maybe later she would ask them who they were talking about and what was wrong with her, but first she needed a small nap.