There wasn’t even a hint of light by which to find his way home, and all at once Edward realized that he wasn’t sure where he was. He couldn’t even make out the houses or whether he was keeping to the poorly graded roadway. He squinted in the darkness against the icy winds and tried to get his bearings. Why hadn’t he paid better attention? People died in weather like this.
He caught sight of a light in the window of a house not far from the street. It was a small house, single story. It looked like the kind on the far northern edge of the city. But what direction was he heading? He hadn’t meant to come north. He wanted to go east.
A gust of wind rose up with such force that it nearly drove Edward to the ground. As it was, he stumbled backward severalpaces and reached out aimlessly for something to grab hold of. There was nothing.
He pulled his coat up higher and snugged his hat down as much as he could. Bending forward he pushed toward the house light he’d seen. Glancing up, however, he realized it was gone. There was nothing.
The cold wind stole his breath, and the icy snow coated his face, nearly freezing his open eyes. This was not at all what he had bargained for. He pressed on, hoping that he might see or hear something familiar.
God, I need You to show me the way. I fear I’m lost and ... deadif You don’t intercede.
Marybeth woke with a start. She thought she’d heard something. Had Edward come home? She sat up and glanced around her. It was still dark, but the wind had calmed. It was eerily still and left her feeling a sense of dread. She got up and felt her way along the crate to where she’d left her shoes. She slipped them on, then lit the lantern. She could only guess at the hour.
She added coal to the stove and built up the fire with a few pieces of kindling. Holding her hands out, she felt the warmth of the flame and prayed it would ignite the coal. She thought about looking outside but decided against it. If she moved the blanket she’d placed at the edge of the flaps and opened them, it would let in far too much cold air. Better she just wait it out. Hopefully Edward would be home soon.
It wasn’t long before the room warmed sufficiently. Marybeth turned up the lamp a bit, not all that worried the light would wake Carrie. The child was usually a deep sleeper. She checked the pail of water that was kept by the stove. Thankfully, it hadn’t frozen.
Marybeth dipped out water into one of her larger pots and placed it on the stove. When it was heated, she’d have water for the oatmeal she planned to make for breakfast, as well as cleaning up afterward and maybe even tea. She was grateful Edward had thought to buy groceries before the storm hit. It was hard to imagine not being able to get out to a store just blocks away. The storm had been unlike anything Marybeth had ever experienced, and she wondered if this was just the first of many to come.
She was about to sit down when she heard something outside. It sounded like someone dragging something. Maybe one of the men was trying to clear a path. She waited to see if the sound continued. It lasted another few minutes and then stopped. She sighed. There was no telling what it had been.
Finally, the water began to boil, and Marybeth dipped some out and put it in the kettle. She took a small amount of tea and added it to the water, then placed it on the stove. After a few steeping minutes, she took a towel and grabbed the kettle off and placed it on the table. Next, she took up the strainer and a cup, but before she could pour the tea, she heard the unmistakable sound of someone at the flaps.
She hurried to pull back the blanket. “Edward? Is that you?”
He didn’t answer, and for a moment Marybeth wondered if she should get the rifle. Something stopped her from it, however, and instead she hurried to untie the flaps. At first, she didn’t recognize the icy man standing in the opening of the tent. She looked him up and down, and as he reached out for her, he was barely able to speak.
“Marybeth.”
It came out like a gasp. Marybeth took hold of his arm and pulled him inside the tent. She hurried to redo the ties on the flaps and block out the frigid air.
“Come sit by the fire.” She hurried around him and drew up the crate he used as a chair.
She reached for his hat and took it from his head. Snow rained down around them. She hadn’t thought to try to brush it off before bringing him in. Glancing at him now, she saw his clothes were getting snow all over the rug. It didn’t matter. She could hardly force him to disrobe outside.
“Edward, we need to get you out of those wet clothes.” She opened the little oven door to spread additional warmth. She began unbuttoning his coat, worried at the color of his face. It was pale gray. Edward sat so stiff, she feared he’d frozen.
The tea. She stopped trying to unbutton the coat and went for the strainer and cup. She would start him thawing from the inside out. She poured the tea and came back to where he sat.
“Here, I need you to drink this tea. It will help warm you up.” She took hold of his right hand. “Can you hold the cup?”
He grunted and took it in hand. Raising it to his lips, he couldn’t seem to hold it still. It wobbled and spilled a bit, but finally he bent to take in some of the liquid.
Marybeth whispered a prayer of thanks. She decided to forget the coat for a moment and started on his boots. It took some doing, but she managed to take them off, as well as the wet socks. His feet felt like blocks of ice.
“We’ve got to get your feet warmed up.” She rubbed them for several minutes. “Keep drinking the tea.” Edward did as he was told, still not saying much of anything.
Marybeth knew using hot water on frozen feet was not the way to go. She remembered once when she’d been quite young that her father had endured something like what Edward must have gone through. Mother had taken water no warmer than room temperature to bathe his feet. Marybeth went to the half-empty bucket. This would have to do.
She brought it to where Edward sat, then went to retrieve a towel. “I’m going to wash your feet and hopefully thaw them out. It will probably hurt.” Her father had howled in pain as Mother did what she could to warm him up.
“Go ahead,” he managed to say. Marybeth took this as a good sign and went to work.
If there was pain, Edward made no outward sign. Perhaps he remembered Carrie was sleeping or maybe he just didn’t want to scare Marybeth. She worked for a long time, tenderly wiping his feet with the water. As she felt the flesh warm a bit, she prayed that he wouldn’t suffer frostbite.
Convinced she had done what she could for his feet, she helped him out of his coat. Thankfully, the shirt underneath was dry. She hung the coat on a peg, then went to where he kept his clothes and got a dry pair of woolen socks. She put the bucket of water aside and lay several towels down to absorb any dampness. The last thing she wanted to do was put warm, dry socks on his feet and have him place them in melted snow.
That was when she noticed that his pants still had snow caked on them. “Edward, you have to take off your pants. I’ll get you another pair, but there’s nothing I can do about affording you privacy. If you stand up, I’ll help you slip them down, and then you can sit again.” She knew he didn’t have much strength left.
