Heidi's feet felt like blocks of iron as she stood near her father. He was so weak. How had he declined so quickly?
He’d already been injured when she reached him a week ago. He'd been favoring that right shoulder but said the bone just needed a little longer to heal. Over the next few days, it hadn't seemed to heal, and she couldn't tell how much pain he was covering. He clearly hadn't wanted to talk about it, and her time married to Winston had taught her not to press when given a command.
But yesterday her father hadn’t risen from his pallet. He'd allowed her to send for the local doctor, but the man clearly knew little about actual doctoring. He'd left a bottle of medicine and taken some of Papa's gold dust in payment.
Today, her father hadn't even gotten up to relieve himself. And he wouldn't eat more than a few sips of broth. He wouldn't let her get the doctor again either, not that she could blame him there.
Something had to be done. What, though?
"Heidi. Sit...please."
His awful rasping whisper drew her from her spiraling worries, and she forced herself to obey. To sink to the ground beside his blankets. This hovel didn't even have a wood floor or proper beds. They slept on a stack of furs, using dingy wool blankets for cover. She'd been cleaning as much as she could since she arrived, but when she'd boiled her bedding with lye soap, the covers had shredded in several places. She'd not yet attempted to wash her father’s. He needed new blankets, but the trading post had none left. Hopefully, next week's shipment would contain a few.
Her father's good hand fumbled over his chest, reaching toward her. Did he want to hold the necklace? It was such an extravagant gift—not something she needed at all.
Her independence was gift enough. And safety from Winston's family.
She held out the leather pouch and necklace, touching it against his fingers so he could take hold. But he wrapped his hand around her palm instead. She moved the gift to her other hand so he could hold this one.
His grip was stronger than she would have expected. Coarser too, like rough-cut wood.
Still, she hadn't held her father's hand in so long. Not even at her wedding. He'd not been there to give her away, as he should have. No, he'd given her away from another land.
Fromthisland. These mountains had stolen him long before that day when her name and her life had forever changed.
She pressed down the bile that tried to rise into her throat. Forced back the burn in her eyes.
Did her best just to enjoy this moment. Papa had apologized for leaving her when she was only a girl. For abandoning her to a boarding school when she needed him most. He’d moved thousands of miles away, stepping out of her life. At least,that was what it had felt like when she was only thirteen and heartbroken after her mother’s death.
He'd said he thought he was doing the best for her, giving her the life he thought she needed. She’d not believed him back then, believing he only wanted to be rid of her. But when he sent her the letter inviting her to come to him in the Montana Territory after she wired about Winston's death, the chance to reconnect had brought a morsel of hope. And when, after she’d arrived, he apologized for abandoning her all those years ago, she could see he meant the words. He’d been heartbroken too, having just lost the woman he loved more than life itself. They’d both been hurting then, but now they had the chance to start over.
They had much time to make up for. Like this simple touch. The joining of hands.
His throat worked, eyes parting. His mouth opened, dry lips cracking with the movement. "Heidi...my girl." Even in that hoarse whisper, the words brought a new round of tears surging to her eyes. "I...am not long for...life."
She had to strain to understand him. Surely she'd not heard right. He thought he would die from a broken shoulder? The pain—and probably the effects of whatever had been in the bottle the doctor left—made him tired and weak.. But he wasn’t dying, was he?
"I want you…to go…with Two Stones."
Her heart skipped a beat. Go with the Indian? To where? For supplies? It seemed unwise to leave her father here alone.
He kept talking though, and she leaned in closer. "When I...die...” He paused often to breathe, and rest. “Do as he...says. He's a...good...man. Trust him."
Dread twisted her middle. Papa really thought this was his end.
“You’re not dying. And don’t worry about me.” She was finally getting the chance to build her own life. The way she wanted.
"You can't...stay...here." His chest barely rose and fell when he breathed. "Not...safe."
She kept her mouth pressed so she wouldn’t argue with him. She could protect herself. And surely he wouldn't die. She needed to find a real doctor for him.
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm going to inquire about a different physic. You'll recover. I'll make sure of it."
She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. "No." He croaked the word, and it seemed to take everything in him.
She stilled. "Papa." What could she say to ease his fears?
"Promise me." He opened his eyes farther now, his grip on her hand still tight. "Promise me, Heidi. You'll go with him." His eyes were nearly wild, desperate for her answer. Despite his weakness, he'd infused his voice with strength she couldn't ignore.
