“I hate guns,” Kefira said. “I hope I never have to pull the trigger again.”
Mrs. Higgins sipped from the white mug she held between both hands and asked her husband, “What did the minister say? The one you called.”
“He said somebody would come right away to pick him up.” Mr. Higgins turned and asked Kefira, “Will you go with him?”
“No, he’s a stranger to me. I’m going to the coast. Down to Florida. Maybe to the very end of it.” Her face was flushed with fever, but excitement danced in her eyes. “I’ve looked at the map so often. I’d like to go out to the very tip of Florida where it sticks out into the ocean.”
The two studied her, and when she got up and left, Higgins said, “She’s a strange one, isn’t she, Edith?”
“Poor child. She’s evidently got nobody. I wish she’d stay around here. We could find her something to do.”
“Sounds like she’s pretty set on heading for Florida.”
“Nothing there for her. She needs friends and a family. She’d be a pretty girl if she’d put on a dress.”
“She’s pretty as she is.”
“Suppose it was some of our kin, Jethro. Think how bad we’d feel. There are evil men out there. She’s had proof enough of that.”
“She seems pretty set. I think she’s the kind of person that finishes what she starts.”
“Lucky for Mr. Winslow she does.”
****
“You’re the best checkers player I ever saw, Josh. I usually can hold my own down at the general store. There’s some experts down there.” Jethro Higgins grinned and looked down at the checkerboard. “That’s all they do is play checkers. Not worth a dime.”
“I’ve always been good at checkers and chess,” Josh stated matter-of-factly.
“Chess—I don’t know how to play that. Looks complicated.”
“I suppose it is. I always liked it, though. Guess I like a challenge.”
Jethro was sitting in a chair pulled up close to the bedside table in Josh’s room. It was late afternoon. The two had played three games of checkers, none of which lasted long, for Josh was indeed very good at the game. The two men had nibbled at the sugar cookies Mrs. Higgins had brought in and washed them down with strong drafts of black, unsweetened coffee. Josh had refused sugar and cream, and Higgins had nodded his approval. “Real men don’t need that,” he grunted. “Just hot and black.”
“I do like coffee.”
“So do I.” Higgins grinned. “The worst cup of coffee I ever had in my life—was real good!”
Josh laughed at the statement and then caught himself. “Ow, that hurts.”
“You’re gonna be laid up for a while. Have to take it easy.”
“I know. I hate it.”
“Your family will take care of you.”
“That’s just it. They don’t need a helpless man to wait on and eat their food.”
“Things pretty bad with your folks?”
“They’re better off than some. We do own the place we’re on, and we’ve got a good man to help out—my brother-in-law. He knows everything about farming and gardening.” Josh went on for some time speaking of Clint Longstreet’s capabilities and said thoughtfully, “I don’t know what we would have done if it hadn’t been for Clint. My sister Kat—she’s just thirteen—says that she thought he was an angel when he helped us get out of New York. We didn’t have much but the clothes on our backs and Clint’s old truck, but we made it.”
“Pretty country down in that part of Georgia. I went through there once. Looks a lot like this country.”
“It is pretty down there.”
“One time I was down—” Suddenly Higgins broke off. He rose and went over to the window. “It’s a truck. Don’t believe I know the fellow. He’s getting out. I expect it might be the fellow come for you.”
Indeed, it proved to be. Josh sat still, and Higgins left the room. Josh heard voices, then footsteps as Clint Longstreet stepped inside. He was wearing a red mackinaw coat and a cap with flaps tied up over the top. He smiled and strode over to Josh, saying, “My, my—some folks will do anything to get waited on.”
“How are you, Clint?”
“I’m fine, but what about you? You don’t look too bad.”
“Well, that’s good news ’cause I feel bad enough.”
“He’s got some busted ribs,” Higgins said. “His head’s not too bad, though—seems to be able to think pretty straight. You fixin’ to take him on home?”
“Don’t guess I ought to start tonight.”
“I don’t know about his ridin’ a long ways. He hurts pretty bad, and the roads ain’t too good.”
“You’re right about that.” Clint nodded. “Full of chuck-holes.”
Josh waved his hand dismissively. “Just fix me a bed in the back of the truck. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, you can’t leave until tomorrow anyway. We’ll put you up tonight. As a matter of fact, you might ought to stay two or three days.”
“It’s your say, Josh,” Clint said. “If you want to stay and mend up, I’ll hang around.”
“No, let’s go tomorrow early.”
“Well, it’s about suppertime,” Jethro said. “You two can talk. I’ll come back and get you when it’s on the table. You think you might be able to sit up at the table, Josh?”
“Sure, I’ll give it a try.”
As soon as Higgins left, Josh made a helpless gesture. “Well, here’s the bad penny turned up again. I sure didn’t last long without crying for help.”
“What happened? I didn’t get the full story. Just that you got beat up.” Clint sat down in the chair that Higgins had vacated.
“Well, if it hadn’t been for a young woman named Kefira Reis, I guess you’d be comin’ to get my body.” He launched into the story, leaving nothing out, and when he had finished he said, “If it hadn’t been for Kefira, it would’ve been all over for me, Clint.”
“Sounds like my kind of woman. Pretty homely, is she?”
“Homely! No, what makes you say that?”
“Well, you don’t expect good-lookin’ women to roam around alone like that.”
“She’s very pretty!”
“But packs a gun, ’eh? I wonder what kind.”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”
At that point Mrs. Higgins came in and said, “If you can get to the table, Mr. Winslow, supper’s all ready.”
“Just call me Josh, please, and I’ll be pleased to join you.”
Josh started to get up, but the sudden movement sent a pain ripping through him. He lay back and gasped. “On second thought, I don’t think I’d better try to stand up.”
“I’ll bring you some food in here,” Mrs. Higgins said quickly, then turned to Clint. “You come and eat at the table with my husband and the young woman, mister.”
“Everybody calls me Clint,” he said as he left the injured man’s room and went to the table.
When he entered the dining room, Clint was startled at the beauty of the young woman who sat there. Even in her rough clothes and her black hair tied back, he agreed with Josh’s assessment of her. He introduced himself at once. “I’m Clint Longstreet, Josh’s brother-in-law.”
“He told me about you,” Kefira said. “How is he?”
“He’s hurtin’ a lot.”
Higgins nodded. “Broken ribs are some of the worst things a fellow can have. I broke a couple of mine once fallin’ out of the hayloft. Life was sure miserable for a while. Couldn’t hardly breathe. Sit yourself down there, Clint.”
The meal was plain, but there was plenty of food: fried pork chops, canned corn, purple-hulled peas, and fresh corn bread. Clint looked at the young woman and said, “Josh told me how you saved his bacon.”
Kefira looked rather pale except for the color in her cheeks from the fever. She shook her head and whispered, “It wasn’t much.”
“Not the way I hear it.”
Clint wanted to know more about this you
ng woman, but he could see that she was not well. After supper he went back to Josh’s room and said, “You didn’t lie about that girl. She’s a beauty. What’s her name—Kefira? Funny name. Never heard it before.”
“She’s Jewish.”
“That right? Well, she’s a looker, but she seems right poorly.”
“She needs to go to bed and stay there, but she’s real stubborn. She says she’s got to get to Florida, somewhere on the coast.”
Clint scratched his cheek. “I’m not sure I ought to haul you back. Some of the roads are really rough, Josh. It’ll shake you to pieces.”
“I can’t stay here and be a burden on the Higginses.” He smiled grimly, “I’d rather go home and be a burden on you and the folks.”
“It’s your say.”
“Just fix me a bed and drive as slow as you can. I’ll make it all right.”
****
Later that evening Clint sat in front of the wood stove talking to Higgins, deciding he liked the man a great deal. “Good of you to take in my brother-in-law.”
Higgins looked up, surprised. “Well, what would a man do? Kick him out?”
“Some would.”
“Not much of a man who’d do that.” Higgins was systematically peeling an apple. He had peeled the whole thing, leaving only one long peel, and now he opened the door of the wood stove and threw it in. The fire crackled and snapped, and the heat radiated throughout the room. Shutting the door, he took a bite of the apple, munched on it thoughtfully, and went on. “He really don’t need to make no long, hard trip.”
“That’s what I told him, but he’s stubborn as a blue-nosed mule.”
“I figured that. Well, how will you do it?”
“Don’t know, but I’ll go as slow as I can, of course, but he could be thrown around a lot in the back of that big old truck.”
Clint spent the rest of the evening losing at checkers to Josh, and then he went out and found Kefira sitting alone in front of the stove. Mr. and Mrs. Higgins had gone to bed early. “He’s hurtin’ pretty bad, miss,” Clint said. He took a seat in the rocker and was quiet for a moment. “I hear you’re in a hurry to get down to the big water.”
“Yes, I would like to get there,” she said with an effort.
“Look, how about this,” Clint said. He leaned forward and spread his hands in an expressive gesture. “I ain’t no doctor, but I know you ain’t feelin’ good. If you’re like I am when I get one of these colds, it could last a long time.”
“I’ll just have to weather it, Clint.”
“I got me a problem, Kefira. I can drive as slow as I can, but Josh is going to be thrown around some. He needs somebody with him in the back of that truck. It’s going to be tough enough as it is, so here’s what I was thinking. You come along with me. You stay in the back, and you hold him as still as you can. We’ll fix a nice bed, and we’ll bolster him up. I brought plenty of extra covers with me. But there’s going to be lots of bumps, and he needs somebody with him.” He watched her face and saw a negative expression and then said quickly, “Help me get him home, and then you’ll have lots of folks to take care of you until you’re over this cold. We owe you something for saving Josh. His dad would want you to do it.”
“But I don’t even know them.”
“You’ll love ’em. They’re fine people. Besides, I don’t see any other way to do this.” Then he played his highest card. “Look, you make the trip back with me and stay at our place until you get well. Then, if you want, I’ll drive you all the way to the coast.”
Kefira straightened up. The red spots in her cheeks were growing, but his offer suddenly seemed too good to be true. “All the way to the coast?”
“It’s not too far, actually. I wouldn’t mind seeing that country again myself. How about it? Is it a deal?”
Kefira nodded quickly. “Yes, it sounds good to me.”
Kefira felt bad enough that she wanted to go to bed immediately. She said good-night to Clint, went to the kitchen cabinet, and found the bottle Mrs. Higgins had left there for her. She took two big tablespoons of the rank-tasting medicine and then capped the bottle with a shudder. She went to bed and discovered that whatever the medicine had in it worked. She coughed a great deal at first but finally fell into a drugged sleep.
****
“I’m right worried about you, young lady,” Edith Higgins said. “I don’t see why you don’t just stay with us. We’ll take care of you until you get well.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I really need to be with Josh. It’s going to be a hard ride on him.”
“Yes, it will.” The two women were standing out beside the truck, and they turned as Josh emerged. Clint held him on one side and Higgins on the other. He walked stiffly, and pain etched its marks on his face. He kept his eyes down, and when they lifted him up to put him in the truck, he cried out involuntarily.
“Sorry, Josh. No way to do this easy.” He crawled up into the enclosed back of the truck and arranged Josh on the bed he had made, sticking a pillow under his head. He jumped out then and said, “If you’re ready, Kefira, I guess we’ll hit the road.”
Kefira turned and shook hands with both of the Higginses. “Thank you so much,” she whispered. “You’ve been so kind.”
“God bless you, dear. You take care of that cold.”
“Good-bye,” Higgins said. “You take care of that young fellow, now.”
Kefira nodded and climbed up into the back of the big old truck.
“I’ll shut this door,” Clint said. “There’s a hammer up there. If you want to stop, just bang on the back of the cab. I’ll pull over.”
“All right.”
Light came in through the cracks of the wooden cap over the truck bed, so Kefira moved over to where Josh was lying down. “Is it very bad?” she asked.
He did not answer, and when she leaned forward, she saw that his eyes were glazed. “Mrs. Higgins … dosed me up. I don’t …” His eyes fluttered, then closed, and Kefira saw that he was unconscious. She sat down beside him, leaning against the side of the truck. The engine started with a roar, then it moved slowly forward. Josh’s body rocked slightly, and she reached out and held his shoulders. As the truck picked up speed, she felt about as bad as she ever had in her life. Finally she could not sit up any longer but moved to lie down beside him. She put her arm over him and was glad that Clint had braced him on the other side with quilts and blankets. He could not actually move or roll over, and as the truck rumbled on, she herself went to sleep.
****
Clint pulled up in front of the Winslow house, shut off the engine, and leaped out. He was stiff from the long trip, but he moved quickly. When he reached the back of the truck, he saw Hannah coming out, followed by Jenny and Kat. It was Hannah who said, “How is he, Clint?”
“All right, sweetheart.” He reached over and took her kiss. “Well, actually he’s in a lot of pain.” He hesitated, then said, “The only way I could get him here was to have some help holdin’ him still. The young woman agreed to do it.”
“A young woman!” Kat exclaimed, her eyes bright. “Who is she?”
“I’ll tell you the whole story later, but she saved his life. She’s sick too—with a real bad cold and fever. Maybe even pneumonia.”
“Well, let’s get her out of there at once,” Jenny said.
At that moment Lewis came running out of the house and stared at Clint. “Is he all right?”
“It’s going to be a chore getting him into a bed. His ribs are busted, and he really feels poorly.”
“Chester Taylor is inside. He can help us carry him in.”
“Okay. Where will we put him?”
Hannah said, “In the last room on the east side.”
Clint nodded, opening the back door of the truck. He kneeled in and said, “Well, this looks bad! Kefira, you all right?” He got no answer, turned, and said, “I think the young woman’s sicker than I thought. We’ll take her in first.” He moved forward and saw that Ke
fira was indeed out of it. She was lying perfectly still, her arm thrown across Josh’s chest. Clint picked her up awkwardly and then scooted to the back of the truck, and when he stepped out, her head fell back.
“Why, she’s unconscious,” Hannah said. “Come along, Clint. We’ll put her in the upstairs bedroom.”
“We’d better go get Doc Peturis,” Lewis said.
Clint followed Hannah into the house, put the young woman on the bed, then said, “I’ll go get Josh.”
It was a struggle getting the injured man out. He had taken enough of the painkiller so that he was only partially conscious, but still he cried out with pain. They lifted Josh up and carried him into the house.
Finally both of the patients were in bed.
As for Kefira, she was aware of voices and movement, but she could not seem to come out of it. For a time she thought she had died and wondered vaguely if she would see her parents.
She felt her clothes being pulled off and tried to protest, and then she was being washed with warm water, and finally she felt smooth, fresh clothes. She tried to open her eyes and did slightly, and she saw the faces of two women hovering over her. She tried to speak but could not, and instead dropped off into a warm blackness.
PART THREE
The Dream
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Just a Dream
Kefira opened her eyes and for just a moment was filled with stark terror. She was frightened as badly as she had ever been in her life, for she had no idea where she was, and in that single moment she could not even remember the recent events of her life.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and kept perfectly still. Her mind seemed to swirl, bringing memories of dreams, some of which were very frightening. Slowly the maelstrom that was her mind grew calm, and memories began coming back slowly, fragments at a time. She remembered burning up, it seemed, and somehow gentle hands had cooled her body. A face came to her then … a woman’s face, kind and yet strange to her. She could not remember who it was, and she desperately wanted to.
From somewhere a rhythmic sound came to her, and she recognized the ticking of a clock. The regularity of it and the ordinariness of it brought a sudden sense of relief. A clock. I’m in a bed in a room and there’s a clock ticking.
Beloved Enemy, The (House of Winslow Book #30) Page 14