“You’re on theMorning Starin my quarters. You were hit in the head by debris. Do you remember anything?”
She closed her eyes again. “I remember the storm. There was a fierce wind and ... yes, there was a lot of debris flying around.” She thought about it for a moment.
When she opened her eyes again, Andrew had moved. Now, instead of sitting on the bed beside her, he sat in a chair.
“I see you’re back again,” he said.
She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for nearly five hours now.”
“Five hours?” Faith tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness sent her back to the pillow. “What happened?”
“You were hit in the head with debris from the storm. Ben sewed you up. He said to tell you he put in four strong stitches.”
She touched the back of her head and felt a bandage. “Tell him I said thank you.”
“You can thank him yourself. He’s been here checking up on you every twenty minutes or so.”
“My family will be worried sick.”
“As soon as you’re up to it, I’ll get you home.”
“I can take myself. The cable car goes right to the corner.”
“The cable cars aren’t running. You don’t realize it, but our little storm destroyed most of Portland.”
“What?” Faith tried to comprehend what he was saying. “It was just some wind and rain.”
“A wind and rain that lasted four hours. The Army Signal Corps said the barometric pressure dropped to just about the lowest point they’d ever seen. It was like a hurricane. It tore out the telegraph and telephone lines, ripped off roofs, and tore buildings apart like so many matchstick figures.”
“There must be a great many injured people. I should collect my things and make myself useful.”
“You aren’t going to be of use, because you’re one of those injured people.” Andrew shook his head. “I thought we might lose you. You bled a lot and were unconscious nearly all this time.”
What he said made sense. She could remember waking up to snippets of conversation and momentary thought. “I remember the storm getting worse. I think I was trying to get back here. How did you find me?”
“When I realized how bad things were, I went looking for you. I even found myself praying, which I haven’t done with any real thought of being heard in a long, long time.”
Faith smiled. “And God heard you.”
“He was probably only listening because it involved you.”
That made her laugh. She shook her head and regretted the movement. She held her head between her hands, hoping the pain would fade. It didn’t. “Grief, I make a poor patient. I can’t bear being put to bed. There’s so much I need to do.”
“Right now you must see to yourself.”
“You’re awake. That’s good,” Ben said, looking in through the open doorway.
“I understand you put in four strong stitches,” Faith said, dropping her hands and giving Ben a smile. “Thank you.”
“You bled plenty, but head always bleeds more.”
“It does indeed.”
“You want tea to help with pain?” Ben asked.
Faith gave a slight nod. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
