Truly Yours Historical Collection December 2014

by Susan Page Davis, Paige Winship Dooly, Connie Stevens

  For two days now, the storm had raged. Only by staying in town could her family have come through this blizzard unscathed. Even if the snow stopped now, it would be another two to three days before anyone could hope to get here from Yankton. The drifts would be too deep to get through. Her parents had the wagon, not the sleigh. Somehow, she had to distract Seana and keep her from worrying. Seana had never been strong. Megan hated to think how her sister would react if something bad were to happen to their parents.

  “Do you need more water for Mr. Coulter?” Megan pasted on a smile.

  “I didn’t know if I should keep using the cool water. He stopped sweating and now his teeth are chattering.” Seana set the empty bowl on the table. She wrinkled her nose as she leaned over the skillet of onions. “Are you making that evil-smelling poultice that Momma made for Matt?”

  “Yes. I’d appreciate you not calling it evil smelling.” Megan’s lips twitched as she recalled those very words coming from her father’s mouth last year.

  “Papa said Momma stunk up the whole countryside.” Seana’s blue eyes were wide as she gazed up at Megan. “He said the crops would have died if Matt hadn’t gotten well in time.”

  Megan chuckled. “Papa was just joking. The fumes from these onions will help Mr. Coulter to breathe. He’s having trouble getting air. That’s why his breathing is so loud.”

  “Will he die?”

  Megan felt like someone had rubbed her face in the snow. She wanted to yell at Seana and tell her not to ask such a ridiculous question, but she knew she’d been wondering the very same thing. “We’ll pray that he doesn’t.” She hugged Seana. “You know Momma always claimed Matt got well more from the prayers than from the medicines she gave him.”

  “Then let’s go right in and pray for Mr. Coulter.” Seana grabbed Megan’s arm. Megan laughed.

  “You need to rest first, and I have to finish this poultice.” She couldn’t help noticing the way Seana’s freckles stood out against the paleness of her skin. “You go lie down. I’ll get these onions cooking and then go pray for Mr. Coulter. When you get up, we’ll pray for him together. Okay?”

  Seana nodded. “Will he get mad at you?”

  “Mad at me for what?”

  “Because you looked through his saddlebags.”

  Megan sighed. “I hope not. I needed to find out who he is.” She didn’t want to tell Seana she’d been looking for someone to contact if the man died. Megan hadn’t thought he would live through the first night. Now, with pneumonia setting in on top of his injury and exposure to the cold, she didn’t know what the outcome would be. How she wished her parents were here. They would know what to do.

  Throughout the night, Megan sat by Mr. Coulter, alternately using the cool cloth to bring down his fever and changing the onion poultice. As the hours passed, she thought his breathing eased, but she couldn’t tell for sure. If so, the change was slight. He continued to labor at drawing in air. One moment he would be sweating and throwing off the covers. The next moment his teeth would start to chatter, and he would shiver from the chills running through him.

  Megan prayed harder than she’d prayed for anyone or anything. Last year when Matt had been so sick, she’d asked God to heal him, but not with the fervency she did for this stranger. After all, both of her parents were praying for Matt. This time only Seana’s sporadic prayers were added to hers.

  “Meggie?” Seana’s soft words drifted through the thick fog of sleep surrounding Megan. She lifted her head and blinked. She’d fallen asleep with her head resting on the bed beside Mr. Coulter.

  “Meggie, he’s still alive. I hear him breathing.” Seana looked like a waif in her nightgown.

  Surging up, Megan groaned at the ache in her back from the unusual position she’d slept in. Lifting the covers, she yanked off the cooled poultice. How could she have fallen asleep and left this to grow cold? She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and placed her ear to his chest. If the congestion had lessened, she couldn’t tell. He still labored painfully to pull in the air he needed.

  “We’ll have to heat up some broth and try to get him to take a few sips, Seana. He can’t fight this sickness if he is weak from lack of food. Why don’t you help me with breakfast while the broth heats?” She held out a hand to her sister.

  By the time Seana finished eating, the broth was warm. Megan managed to rouse Mr. Coulter enough to get him to swallow a few spoonfuls. Then he collapsed against the pillow, eyes closed, the sound of his struggle to breathe filling the room.

  Megan thought he was asleep again. As she tucked the covers close around him, his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. His slitted eyes stared at her. “Sara, I can’t do this. You have to let me go. Why do you keep following me?” He began to cough hard enough to shake the whole bed.

  Eyes wide as saucers, Seana watched from near the door. Megan tugged at her arm, trying to break free from his tight hold. The coughing spell ended, leaving him weak and shaking.

  “Sara, please, I have to leave.” He gasped out the words.

  “It’s okay. You can go.” Megan held her breath as he froze, watching her with glazed eyes. His grip loosened. She pulled free. His whole body relaxed, and he slept again. Megan covered him before turning to leave.

  “Meggie?” Tears were running down Seana’s cheeks. Megan hurried to her sister and hugged her.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I thought he would hurt you. I was so scared.” Seana clung to Megan, her body shaking. Megan herded her sister out of the bedroom and closed the door.

  “Sometimes when people are very sick, Seana, they see things that aren’t there. Mr. Coulter must have thought I was this Sara whom he knows.”

  “Who is Sara?”

  “I don’t know. I only found his Bible in his saddlebags. His name was written in there, but he’d recorded nothing else. When he wakes up, he’ll tell us about this Sara if he wants us to know.”

  Megan sank into her mother’s rocking chair and lifted Seana onto her lap. The rhythmic movement soothed them both. Seana, small for her age due to all the sickness that plagued her, seemed to weigh nothing at all. Her head rested on Megan’s shoulder just as Megan had seen her rest against her mother many times. In no time Seana’s deep, even breathing told Megan her sister had fallen asleep. She had so much to do; but for a few minutes longer, she relished the feel of her sister and the comforting motion of the rocker.

  ❧

  Jesse drifted in a cloud of pain. Voices swirled around him, some making sense, others only a distracting noise. Through it all, the heavy weight continued to press down on him like rocks piled on one by one. He didn’t know how much time had passed. He couldn’t tell whether it had been days or hours since this pain enveloped him. Somehow time didn’t matter, only the battle at hand: the battle for his life.

  “You have to marry Sara. She’ll be the one to bring this family into the society we deserve. It’s your duty to us, Son.” His father’s stern tones rumbled through Jesse’s head. Society had always been the unattainable carrot his father strove to reach. All his life Jesse had been schooled to marry right so they would have the name and fortune needed to propel them forward. He’d failed, and his father would never forgive him.

  “Jesse, Dear, you simply must give up this infatuation with religion. It isn’t fashionable to be so fanatic about God.” His mother’s dulcet voice rang in his ears. “Attending the right church is important to one’s place, but you needn’t run around talking about Jesus as if He’s a friend to you. People will think you’re a lunatic.” He could see his mother smoothing her perfectly coifed hair as she prepared to attend another tea, wearing the latest fashion, acting as haughty as any society matron. She tried to hide her disappointment in him, but Jesse knew he could never live up to her standards.

  “If you truly love me, you’ll give up this silly idea of going to the gold fields in Dakota Territory.” Sara gave a pretty pout as she twirled her parasol, the whirling colors as mesmerizing as
a snake. “You don’t want to go to such a dirty place when you can be here with me.” She smiled and pursed her lips, tempting him with all she offered. The day he left her, she vowed to get him back one way or another. She would carry a grudge until the day she got her way.

  More rocks were piled on him. Jesse strove for a breath; the weight on his chest made the drawing in of air almost impossible. Spikes of pain tore through him with each effort. Jesus, help me. His tormented cry brought to mind the scene of his Savior on the cross, struggling to push against the nails so He could breathe. Jesus knew his suffering. He’d endured worse. Tears burned in Jesse’s eyes. Please, Lord, give me another chance to serve You. I’ll go anywhere You ask, even home.

  The darkness lightened. The boulders on his chest warmed. Heat spread through his body, helping him to relax. He felt as if the hand of God was touching him, easing his hurt, changing his life. Relaxing as the agony lightened, Jesse drifted closer to the light.

  Murmured words wove through his consciousness. Someone was in the room with him, talking. He wanted to turn back to the darkness. He couldn’t face disappointing someone else. The promise he’d just made to God drifted through his mind. How could he have forgotten so soon? This was the direction God was leading him. He had to trust.

  “Jesus, please, I don’t know what to do for him anymore. I don’t know what Seana will do if he dies. I don’t know what I’ll do.” The sound of a woman crying compelled Jesse to awaken. His eyelids were so heavy as he forced them up. The flickering light of a lamp made him blink. Tears welled up, trickling down his cheeks. He couldn’t move to stop them.

  He’d never been so tired, yet Jesse knew without a doubt he’d been healed. Trying to draw in a deeper breath, he set off a spasm of coughing. Spikes drove through his lungs, but he’d gotten enough air to know he could breathe better.

  “Meggie, look.”

  The coughing fit eased. Jesse saw the pixie in the doorway staring at him. He rolled back over to see his angel rising from a kneeling position by his bed. She’d been praying for him. He stared at her, concentrating on taking shallow breaths so he wouldn’t cough again.

  “Meggie, will he live?”

  His angel nodded. “I think so, Seana.” Her touch to his forehead felt like the flutter of butterfly wings. Jesse couldn’t tear his gaze from her. He wished he had the strength to return her touch.

  Four

  Frigid air brushed his cheeks when Jesse woke the next morning. Embers smoldered in the fireplace. His breath puffed out in white clouds. Under the pile of blankets and comforters, he stayed warm. For the first time since arriving here, he wasn’t too hot or too cold. Although his body still felt the heavy weight of exhaustion, he could draw in shallow breaths without pain.

  The door swung open. The woman he’d seen earlier entered, her arms piled with wood for the fire. She glanced at the bed and froze. “Oh, I didn’t think you would be awake. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks reddened as she stared at the floor. “I would have knocked first, but you have been asleep so long.”

  “I just woke up. Go ahead.” The effort to speak left him gasping. Racking coughs began to shake his body. He curled on his side, trying to hold his breath to stop the coughing. By the time he could breathe again, the woman had the fire going and stood over him, one hand slapping against his back. Jesse had never been so tired.

  “When my brother, Matt, had pneumonia, he would cough like this. Momma said he needed to get rid of the congestion clogging his lungs.” The woman backed away. “I’m guessing that’s what you need to do, too.”

  He tried to speak, but she held up her hand. “Don’t. Talking will only make you cough again. Maybe later, when you feel better, we can talk. Right now I want you to rest. I’ll bring in something to eat as soon as I get it fixed.”

  Jesse’s eyes drifted shut before she’d closed the door on her way out. He slept the sleep of exhaustion and sickness, with only vague memories of reviving enough to swallow a few bites of some delicious soup the woman fed him. When he roused later in the morning, a little girl sat beside his bed, a rag doll on her lap.

  “Hello.” The one word caused Jesse to cough, although this time wasn’t as severe as earlier. She stood next to the bed and patted his cheek until he could relax. The well-worn doll hung limply over her other arm, its skinny arms and legs dangling in the air.

  “Meggie said you aren’t to talk, but I have to watch you.” The girl held one finger up as if lecturing a recalcitrant child. “Since you can’t say anything, I’ll tell you all about us so you won’t be bored.” Jesse nodded. The girl perched on the edge of the chair, a prim little miss replacing the mischievous pixie he’d seen before.

  “My name is Seana, and you’re at our house.” She arranged the doll on her lap. “My sister, Meggie, is outside feeding the animals. She says I can’t go outside because it’s too cold and the snow is too deep. I just got over being sick, too. She brought your horse in the house. He dripped water everywhere on the floor and made the house stink.” Her freckled nose wrinkled. “I don’t want you to be mad at Meggie. She had to look in your saddlebags. We needed to know your name. She said Papa would have done that, too.”

  Sadness clouded Seana’s eyes. “Papa and Momma and Matt went to town. They still aren’t home. Meggie says they probably stayed with the Porters. Reverend Porter talks a lot in church on Sundays. We don’t get to hear him very often because Yankton is too far away.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m glad because I never understand the words he says. He makes me want to sleep.”

  Jesse’s lips twitched. He’d met a few ministers who put him to sleep, too. The one at his parents’ church, for instance. That man spoke in such a pompous monotone that Jesse wondered if even God stayed awake to listen.

  “This is my doll, Ennis. I named her after my grandmother.” The doll’s features were worn, with several of the stitches of her mouth missing. The matted yarn that made up her hair hung in various lengths. Her button eyes still shone, but Seana would have to be careful or the few threads holding them would come loose.

  “My momma made this dress for her at Christmas. She made me a dress just like Ennis’s, but I can only wear mine for church or weddings.” She frowned. “We don’t have many weddings, either, so I’ve only worn the dress when we went to church at Christmastime.”

  A gust of cold air rushed into the room. The sound of a door closing heralded the arrival of Megan from outside. Jesse opened his mouth to say something, but Seana leaped to her feet and held up that warning finger again.

  “Don’t you talk or Meggie will get mad at me.” She looked so serious, Jesse wanted to hug her and laugh at the same time.

  “Seana, have you been bothering Mr. Coulter?” Megan appeared in the doorway, her cheeks and nose bright red from the cold. “I told you he needed to rest.”

  “He woke up. He tried to talk and I told him not to. I’ve been telling him all about Momma and Papa. He even met Ennis.” Seana held up her doll as if presenting evidence of doing right.

  Megan’s lips twitched. “You did just fine, Seana.” She turned to Jesse, her eyes downcast. “Get some rest, Mr. Coulter. I’ll fix you something to eat. You have to build up your strength.” She began to back out of the door. “Come along, Seana. Let Mr. Coulter sleep while you help me.”

  Jesse closed his eyes. From the floating feeling washing through his body, he knew full recovery might take some time. As tired as he was, he couldn’t seem to relax. A jumble of thoughts tumbled through his brain. The picture of Meggie and her refusal to look at him, as if she were ashamed of something. The question of where God wanted him to go to preach. He wanted to go the right direction, but didn’t have a clear idea which way that would be. He sighed, drifting toward sleep. Due to this sickness, he would have plenty of time to seek out God’s direction. Perhaps He wanted Jesse to continue his trek to the Dakota gold fields and begin preaching there.

  ❧

  That night Megan couldn�
��t sleep. Visions of her parents caught in the blizzard wouldn’t leave. Although she’d assured Seana their parents and Matt probably stayed in Yankton, she wasn’t sure. Her mother had been very worried about Seana’s fever. She promised to make Papa leave early so they could be back before dark, if possible. The trip took half a day; but if they hurried with the shopping, they could have been back on the road shortly after lunchtime.

  The storm had come in the afternoon. Heavy clouds in the sky had given some indication of bad weather, but no one could have guessed the fast drop in temperature or the severity of the blizzard. Megan hadn’t been sure she would have time to put up guide ropes because the snow hit so hard and furious. If her family had already begun the trip home, they may have been trapped in the open. Tears burned her eyes at the thought. Every day that passed made her think something was wrong.

  This afternoon, while Seana and Mr. Coulter were both asleep, Megan had gone outside. In the bright sunlight, the white snow hurt her eyes. She’d gone to the barn and climbed up on a fence, trying to get as high as possible to see if her parents’ wagon was in sight. Nothing marred the white expanse in any direction. She’d watched until her toes and fingers went numb, praying for a sign of life somewhere, to no avail.

  What if something had happened to them? She didn’t want to face that possibility, but inside she knew she might have to. What would happen to her and Seana? She didn’t want to leave this country and go back east. They didn’t have any close family there who would care for them. As harsh as this land could be, Megan didn’t want to leave. She loved this place.

  Please, God, let Momma and Papa come home tomorrow. Help them to be safe. Megan turned her face into the pillow and wept silent tears. She drifted off to sleep praying tomorrow would bring good news. The seed of an idea gave her hope. Mr. Coulter and Seana were both stronger. Perhaps she could take Mr. Coulter’s horse and go looking for her missing family. On horseback, the trip to town wouldn’t take nearly as long. Maybe right after lunch she could go while they rested.