"What is it?" she demanded, talons of terror ripping deep. "Garret, what's wrong with my little girl?"
"Don't know. Could be anything—a chill, one of those child fevers that come and go, or..." His eyes flickered away from hers as he settled the little girl on Ashleen's bed. "There's just no way to know this soon."
Ash swallowed hard, eyes afire with challenge, as if daring Garret even to hint at her darkest fears. "It's not—not anything serious—please, God, don't let it be anything serious."
"A hundred miles from towns and doctors and medicine any sickness is serious. So serious everyone is going to have to stay damned calm if we're going to help her. You have to stay calm, lady."
He laid a reassuring hand on her arm, only the slightest of tremors in those strong fingers betraying to Ashleen that he was as unnerved as she was.
"It may be nothing. Over before nightfall. We'll"—he sucked in a deep breath, unable to meet her gaze—"you'll have to pray that it is. In the meantime we'll need to do everything we can to make sure the other children don't get sick, too. Kennisaw—he always held with the notion of keeping someone down with fever as far away from everyone else as possible."
"No! You're not—not taking her away from me! She's sick, Garret, she can't travel—"
"We're not going anywhere, lady, and I'm not going to take her away from you." He hugged her hard, burying his lips against her temple. "We're just going to have to think what to do."
Ash leaned for one more moment against that hard, strong shoulder, feeling Garret's inner strength melt into her, easing the knots of terror in her stomach.You have to stay calm, lady... only way we can help her.
He was right. Absolutely right. Meggie's fever was just one of those childhood scares little ones had been stirring up nurseries with since the beginning of time. But there was no point in endangering the other children, just in case...
"The lean-to." Garret's voice broke into Ashleen's musings. "We could move you and Meggie up into the lean-to. It's sturdy enough, and with a little more work I can make it damn cozy. I'll carry over whatever you need from the wagon. Even the damn feather tick, so she'll be as comfortable as we can make her."
"But the others." Ash glanced at the children's frightened faces. "How can I leave—"
"I'll see to 'em."
Ash could imagine the expression that must have been on her face, because Garret's lips quirked in the slightest of wry smiles. "Don't worry, lady, I'll try not to hogtie 'em. We'll all live through it."
Garret faltered as his gaze fell on Meggie's fever-flushed face, his smile dying, and Ash could feel the sudden swift embarrassment jagging through him. "I mean we'll—we'll get along well enough while you're seeing to Meggie."
Liam's voice piped up, the tones a little wobbly. "I don't—don't want you an' Meggie to stay away, Sister Ash. I don't care if I get sick."
"Don't be a baby, Liam," Shevonne cut in, her voice firm. "You'd be hollerin' to high heaven if you were wettin' the bed all over the place. An' then Sister Ash 'n' I'd have t' wash sheets forever."
Yet even as Shevonne glared down her nose at the little boy Ash noticed the girl slipping her hand into his.
"It'll only be for a little while, sweeting." Ash tried to infuse her voice with its usual soothing tones. "Maybe... maybe you could get Mr. MacQuade to show you his drawings... ones of Sir Alibad and the dragons."
She heard Garret start to protest, saw him flush, but he nodded, gruff. "I don't eat little boys, Liam. I promise." Garret reached toward Liam's curls, hesitated, then rumpled them with his hand. "I'm going to need lots of help getting the lean-to ready for Meggie. I could use a strong young man like yourself."
Liam regarded him for long moments with those gentle, infinitely wise eyes. He snuffled once into the sleeve of his nightshirt, scrubbing tears from his cheeks. "Better get Renny. I can't carry much, with my crutch an' all."
"I've seen you helping around camp. You do just fine, boy."
Despite her worry, Ash felt a lump form in her throat at Garret's words. She wondered if he had any idea what they meant to the child. But Garret was already moving over to Meggie's bedding, tugging it from where it was wedged into the wagon box.
"Garret," Ash warned, "I wouldn't—"
"No wonder the kid's sick!" Garret said, his hands stilling. "The damn mattress is soaked."
"She peed in it," Shevonne informed him loftily.
"Oh." To his credit, Garret didn't miss a beat. "Then we'll just have to take another one."
"Take mine," Ash said, kicking at it with her toe. "Once we get Meggie settled I'll clean up the other."
Garret cast a dubious glance at the tumbled, damp covers. "No. I'll... we'll handle it." He turned to gather up the fat feather tick and muttered, "somehow."
Within minutes he had squeezed the bulky tick out the rear of the wagon and, with Liam and Shevonne, had caravanned whatever supplies would be needed to the little shelter upon the rise.
