Jericho had contracted smallpox.
How had she let this happen? He'd said he thought he had the disease as a boy, so she hadn't made him take the antidote when she gave it to the other healthy people in Two Stones's village. Why, oh, why hadn't she insisted? She hadn't wanted him to feel even the discomfort of those minor symptoms.
Some doctor she was.
She straightened the remaining blanket on the bed Jonah had just vacated. It was a large double bed, probably once belonging to his parents. Jericho would need many more covers than this one.
Once he entered the room, she pointed Sampson back out. "Go get every blanket or fur you can find and put them right here in the doorway." She raised her voice so all could hear. "No one is allowed in this room except me. I'll not risk any one of you." She pinned her sister with a narrow gaze. "Nor the baby."
Naomi blanched, but she nodded.
Dinah started toward the front door. She would gather the blankets he'd used in the barn herself so they didn't infect one of the others. Then she’d inoculate the family so they didn’t succumb to the full force of the disease.
She couldn't let this illness spread to even one more person.
* * *
Dinah sank into the chair across from where her sister sat at Jonah's bedside and stared at Naomi's hands weaving the needle in and out of the luxurious blue fabric. She worked so quickly, it was like watching a lovely minuet, with dancers sliding in and out of the line in perfect flow.
"Once I finish the ruffles and attach them, this dress will be complete." Naomi paused her choreography and straightened the length of fabric in her hand. She squared her shoulders, probably to stretch out the tightness from hunching for so long.
Dinah managed a tired smile. "What will you make then?" Maybe a gown for the baby.
Naomi's mouth twitched. "There's enough of this fabric to make another skirt for Lillian, as well as a shirt for Sean."
A chortling noise sounded from Jonah's bed, and Dinah glanced at him. He shook his head. "Not sure he's gonna appreciate having clothes to match his sister."
"Of course he will." Naomi spoke as though the two of them had had this conversation before. “This material is so soft, and the blue pinstripe will make a handsome shirt."
He just shook his head. They seemed to be getting along quite well, as though they'd been friends for months…or years. She needed to warn her sister to be careful not to form an attachment with anyone here. Even if the man reciprocated, she had a feeling Jericho wouldn't allow it. The last thing they wanted was to come between these brothers, or make things harder for Jericho.
Speaking of Jericho, she should check on him again. The last time she'd been in to offer him ginger tea and broth, his fever was higher than any other point these past days. Now, she waited for his stomach to settle from those liquids before she gave him willow tea to bring the heat in his body down.
She pushed to her feet and turned toward the kitchen area first. Lillian worked at the cookstove, and Dinah peeked into the pot she was stirring. "That looks wonderful."
The girl flashed a smile. "I put in a cinnamon stick. It makes the whole room smell better."
Dinah raised her brows. "That sounds like Naomi's trick."
Lillian gave a sheepish nod. "She showed me."
"You're learning from the best then." Dinah touched her shoulder as she turned toward Jericho's room. "I'm going to see if your uncle will drink a tea for his fever."
After pouring a fresh cup from the kettle she'd left steeping, she headed toward the bed chamber. She stepped into the room, staying quiet to see if he was asleep.
She'd taken all the blankets off him, revealing his bare feet. His eyes were closed, the wet cloth still lying across his brow where she'd left it. Sweat glistened on his temples, just below the rag and above his beard. The sound of his breathing became distinct as she approached.
She sat on the side of his bed, an easier position to reach him than the chair, and placed a hand on his forehead. Heat still emanated from his body. "Jericho, can you hear me?"
He groaned in response, his eyes still closed.
"I need you to drink this willow tea. It will help bring your fever down." She held the cup near his lips, but he turned his head away.
"I can't." His voice was barely a whisper.
"Why not?"
"It hurts to swallow."
