August 27, 1782
Daniel stoked the remnants of the fire Keturah had used to prepare supper and glanced toward her. “Is there a chill in the air tonight?”
Her hands stilled on the green beans she was snapping, and her brow lowered. “Nay.” In fact, summer had peaked with sweltering temperatures, and she had seriously considered cooking outside again that afternoon. The cabin had already been stuffy prior to the meal preparation, and to her, it had grown quite sweltering. The door was even propped open to allow in the tiniest of breezes.
That could only mean one thing. Keturah’s stomach dropped. She dropped the green bean she was about to snap back in the bowl and quickly moved across the cabin to her husband’s side. After she placed the backof her hand against his forehead, her heart stuttered a beat. “Yer warm.”
When she moved her hand, Daniel replaced it with his own. His dark brows pulled together, and his mouth twisted before he gave a shrug. “I feel quite well.”
Keturah frowned. “Ye need to lie down.” She ushered him toward the bed. This could not be happening. Infection could not take hold of her husband. Once she had him settled in the bed, she asked to see his hand. She tilted it this way and that, drawing a candle closer in order to better assess it in the dim light of the cabin. “There is a wee bit of redness. Is it tender?” She ran her finger alongside the stitches, keeping her touch light.
Daniel smiled a smile that melted her insides and made her feel as though all would be well. “Not in the least bit.”
Keturah pursed her lips and allowed her gaze to roam over his handsome face before she nodded. “Get some rest, an’ I will check me mither’s notebook to see if there is somethin’ that can be done for infection. Just in case.” She hesitated, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her husband’s warm lips.Lord, please dinnae let it be our last. Please let him see the birth of our child. She prayed silently as she blew out the candle and moved away from the bed.
Keturah went to retrieve the notebook in which her mother had written about the herbs and remedies she used, as well as her favorite recipes. Not that Ma hadever used the recipes for cooking. She had known them all by heart. Keturah smiled to herself, and a sudden ache stretched through her. Never again would she have the opportunity to learn from her mither about the things that were written in these pages. And never would her mither meet Daniel or their bairn. Their time together had been so short.
Her heart constricted. Would her time with her husband be even shorter? She glanced to where he slumbered.Please, nay. Please, Lord, spare my husband an’ keep the infection from him.She sent the prayer heavenward.
Regret prickled up the back of her neck as she watched him. How much of their short marriage had she spent in judgement? She’d thought because he did not come from this land, this lifestyle, that he would prove incapable. Daniel was anything but inept, though, and love had begun to flourish between them in the past couple months.
Keturah sighed. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight. Was it Daniel’s lack of knowledge that had landed them here? Was she responsible for bringing him here, to his death? Nay, she could not believe such. This was a harsh, unforgiving land, and even a strong, knowledgeable man could be lost in the blink of an eye. Her father had been an example of that.
Keturah turned back to the notebook. Opening the cover, she stared down at her mother’s handwriting. She had to find something helpful. Slowly, she scouredeach page until the words blurred before her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back to give them a rest. She could not stop until she found a remedy. Her husband needed her. And she him.
After a moment, Keturah resumed her search. She flipped the page and finally landed on a gem. Though she did not have the herb there on the homestead, she could find it. And while she had no desire to leave Daniel alone, it would be worth it if the plant would draw the infection from his hand as her mither had written it would.
Aye, she would go in search of the nettle…tomorrow. With a tiny bit of hope in her heart, Keturah leaned her head back again, her finger marking the page in the notebook. The fire crackled quietly behind her, her husband’s breaths came slow and even, and Scamper let out a whimper in his sleep as his legs jerked, chasing after an imaginary rabbit. She smiled contentedly. Nights like this would be well worth it.
Where was she? Birds sang in the wee hours of morning, but Keturah’s side of the bed remained undisturbed. Daniel snapped upright and glanced around. As his gaze settled on Keturah’s sleeping form at the table, his heart started to slow its racing. Instead, a grin tipped up the side of his mouth. She must have fallen asleep reading her mother’snotebook. He stood and went to her side. Sure enough, the book laid open under her head while her mouth hung agape.
Warmth spread through every inch of Daniel. His dear wife had stayed up until all hours of the night, all on his account. For the first time in his life, Daniel realized what it was to be truly loved. Even more than the physical intimacies of marriage or her spoken profession of love, this selfless act proved how deeply his wife cared.
He reached out and gently nudged her shoulder. “Keturah.” He spoke her name quietly.
She jerked awake and looked both ways before her gaze landed on him. “Daniel.” Her hand immediately went to his arm. She started to stand, but he settled on the bench next to her instead. “How are ye?” Her spring-green eyes searched his while a wrinkle formed in her brow and her mouth pinched.
“I am well.” He smiled.
“Yer sure?” Keturah placed the back of her hand against his forehead. Then she took his hand in hers and examined the stitches as she had done the night before. This morning, there was not a trace of redness. To Daniel’s surprise, though, Keturah frowned. “I may still find some of the nettle Ma wrote about. Just to be safe.”
Daniel let out a chuckle as he turned his hand over and engulfed her smaller one in his, giving it a squeeze. “We can do whatever you wish, but I reallyam well.” He met her eyes, imploring her to believe him.
Keturah searched his face. Tears swam in her eyes. “I just dinnae want to lose ye.”
Daniel pulled her to him, nestling her against his chest. “Darling…” Her curls tickled his chin as he spoke, but he would not have it any other way. “Lord willing, I do not plan on going anywhere. We have a child to raise, after all.”
Keturah tipped her head up to face him without leaving his embrace, her tears giving way to a smile. “That we do.”
He wiped the moisture from her freckled cheek. All his life, Daniel had been searching. And right here it was, in the middle of nowhere in Kentucky. Love. Acceptance. Family. God had a plan all along. If only he had trusted Him.
September 4, 1782
Keturah rolled over and stretched her arm out. While she still did not prefer to cuddle with Daniel while they slept, she had grown accustomed to reaching out to him each morning. But her hand found only empty covers, not the strong presence of her husband.
Keturah raised up onto her elbow and glancedaround. Daniel was nowhere to be found. Neither was Scamper. Her brow lowered. Quickly, she left the bed and dressed. Where could the two have gone? They never rose before her. Without bothering with her morning routine, she left her hair unkempt and face unwashed as she darted outside.
Stopping on the porch, she blinked as the bright light nearly blinded her. It was not early morning. No, judging from the location of the sun in the sky, it was only a couple of hours before noon. Her brow puckered even further. How could that have happened? She rarely slept past sunrise and did not feel unwell. In fact, she felt in better health than ever. Could the pregnancy be the cause for her tiredness?
