“No. I forgot to tell you that Peter thinks my headaches are made worse by hypertension. Something to do with the pressure in my blood? Anyway, he’s had me grinding up snakeroot into a powder and mixing it with hot water. It seems to be helping, and I have to admit, I’m feeling better than I have since the attack.”
“That’s great, Whit.” Maddy hopped off the bed. “I’ll bring you a cup of hot water right away.”
“Thanks, sis.” While she was gone, Whitney dug into her food.
A light tap on her door. “Whitney?”
Eli’s sweet voice.
“Come on in.”
He opened it a crack and sent her a smile. “I heard you were back.”
“I am.” Her cheeks lifted with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”
He ventured in another foot. “I’ve been helping John with the dogs.”
“Thank you. I bet they love attention from you.” She pointed her fork at him before taking another bite.
His nod was enthusiastic and made his hair fall into his eyes. Poor kid. He needed a haircut. “Do you think you couldteach me about driving the sled so maybe I could help you raise and train your next litters?”
“Ah ... so John spilled the beans, didn’t he? You know we’ve got three pregnant mamas.”
Another nod, with a grin that almost reached his ears.
“I would love to teach you. As long as you get your schoolwork and your other chores done.” After she took a sip of orange juice, she lifted her glass to him. “How about I meet you out there in an hour? We’ll get started right away.”
“Thank you! I’ll be ready.” He ran out the door and almost knocked Maddy down.
Her sister watched their younger brother as he ran. “You made his day brighter, that’s for certain.” She offered a piece of paper. “This arrived for you.”
As she took the envelope, she hoped it was from Peter. Maybe he needed her again.
But when she unfolded the paper, she found an invitation to dinner from Judas. Why was she disappointed? A rich, kind man wanted to spoil her with another lavish meal. She should be ecstatic.
She held up the paper for Maddy to read.
Her younger sister’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “Well ... are you going to go?”
NINETEEN
Aweek had passed since Whitney turned down Judas’s invitation to dinner, citing that with Ruth finding out about her husband, the family was deep in mourning. Guilt had riddled her for the exploitation of Ruth’s pain, but she hadn’t been ready to face Judas quite yet.
Then this morning, another invitation came. She’d gone straight out to the dogs and began mucking the stalls. Maybe clarity would descend on her with the hard work.
Peter had been correct in his diagnosis: As long as she took the snakeroot morning and evening, she felt better. But the whiskey bottle under her bed still called her name. And a few times, she’d given in. Much to her shame.
Shaking her head against the condemning thoughts, she shoveled out the soiled hay twice as fast. It made her arms and back burn. The best thing she could do was to lock the bottle up and give the key to someone else.
“Have you decided how to respond?” Havyn propped her elbows on the fence.
Whitney put a hand to her chest. “Gracious, you mightbe growing in size, but I think you’re getting stealthier. You scared me.”
Havyn’s laugh echoed through the barn. “Maybe you were deep in thought. I don’t think there’s any way I’m stealthy. If anything, I’m growing clumsier by the day.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Now back to the question...”
“Can’t get anything past you, can I?”
“Nope.”
