Unable to sit there and not do anything, he jerked to his feet, the bench skidding back several inches. His boots thudded on the wooden floor as he crossed toward the door.
Four
Dreary rain obscured the view, but Addie made out the shape of the building they sought. She held the slicker around them and headed down the muddy path. Mother stumbled repeatedly. Yes, the mud stuck to their shoes might explain her difficulty in walking, but despite the cold, Mother’s body gave off heat like a burning stove.
Addie would allow Mother to relieve herself, then get her back inside as soon as possible. They had medicines in the trunk, but they were out of reach on the coach. She’d simply do her best to nurse Mother. Thanks be to God for this shelter and food supplies, for wood to warm the cabin, and for men like Nash to help.
Their business done, they began the return journey. Twice, Mother had to stop, leaning heavily on Addie.
“We’re almost there.” Addie urged her onward. If Mother fell, Addie wouldn’t be able to lift her. She’d have to leave her in the mud and run for help.
Another step. Another pause. Rain soaked Addie’sblack skirt. Mud encased her shoes. Mother would be enduring the same discomforts as well as her weakness.
Another step. Another pause. Mother’s weight on Addie’s arm increased. She staggered and fought to stay on the path. Light faded from the sky, shrouding the land in streaked gray. Water pattered on the leaves. To her right, a solitary bird gave a one-note protest.
The door ahead opened, throwing a wobbly yellow square into the rain. Then, a shape blocked the light.
Addie peeked from under the slicker. Nash hurried toward them. He wrapped his arm around them both and hustled them indoors.
Mother sighed and would have collapsed to the floor except for Nash’s quick action. He tossed aside the rain protection, scooped up Mother, and carried her to the fur mat.
“She’s burning up.”
“I know.” Addie knelt at Mother’s side. “Where do you feel ill?” She stroked Mother’s hair from the fevered brow and eased her wet jacket off.
“I’m fine.” Except she wasn’t.
“I’ll get water for you.”
Before Addie got to her feet, Nash hurried away and brought back a cup of water.
Addie slipped an arm under Mother’s shoulders and helped her sit enough to drink.
“Thank you, my dear. Now, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Her voice quavered and almost faded away.
“I know.” Except she did worry and had no assurance Mother would be fine. This journey had sapped her strength. But she would take care of her to the best of her ability.
“I’ll make tea.” Nash returned to the stove and filled the kettle. Thankfully, Hawk brought in more waterwhen he came to the house. “The rest of you make yourselves comfortable and try to sleep. We’ll be as quiet as we can.” He turned the lamp down. Dark shadows crowded the corners.
Mr. Bertrand mumbled about the lack of accommodation. He eyed Mother…or more correctly, eyed the fur she lay on. But nothing would persuade any of them that he should take Mother’s place. He’d have to sleep resting on the table as Mr. Zacharius did or curl up on the floor. With much harrumphing, he chose the latter.
“It’s come to a pretty pass,” he grumbled, “when a man pays good money for passage, and this is what he gets. Harrumph.”
Addie sloshed cool water into a basin and returned to Mother’s side to sponge her face and hands. She loosened the collar of Mother’s simple gray shirtwaist so she could apply the wet cloth to Mother’s neck. Her damp clothing should have cooled her body, yet she still burned up.
The kettle steamed. The cupboard door squealed. Water gushed into the teapot.
Nash, leaning against the cupboard, watched her. Their eyes connected, his reflecting golden lamplight. He gave a slight nod. Whether to encourage her or promise to help or?—
It didn’t matter. She gained strength from the look.
Hawk grabbed his slicker. “I’ll sleep in the barn.”
Addie almost protested before Hawk added, “A bed of straw beats sleeping on the floor.” He paused at the door. “Mr. Bertrand, you’re welcome to join me.”
“In a barn. I’m not a pauper nor a beggar.”
“Fine.”
