Jackson’s throat locked up when Jewel scooted down and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder. Amandahadto get well. For the children’s sake, at least.
“Jewel miss Mama.”
Amanda pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Mama misses Jewel.”
Noah placed his hand on his mother’s arm as if it were made of glass and patted gently. “I’ll bring one of the kittens when I visit tomorrow. They aways make me feel better.”
“I’d like that.”
He twisted his body around and looked up. “Mama’s cold. Do you want me to add a log?”
“No,” Jackson said in a voice as rough as his wife’s. “I’ll do it.”
Noah turned back to his mother. “Miss Celia said I should include you in my prayers tonight, but she didn’t wait. She’s been prayingall day.”
Celia came and stood at the foot of the bed. “I’ve been prayin’ for you, Mrs. Maguire—beseeching the Almighty at the top of my voice, ‘cause I don’t have to whisper under the kettle no more. You just rest now. I’ll look after your babies for you.”
Amanda’s lips curved into a weak-but-grateful smile. “Thank you.” She looked as if she wanted to say more but didn’t have the energy.
“Noah... Jewel,” Jackson said, “it’s time to go to bed. Kiss your mother goodnight.”
Noah leaned over and planted a kiss on Amanda’s forehead. “Goodnight, Mama.”
“’Night,” Jewel said, giving Amanda a smooch that left a damp circle on her cheek.
Amanda’s smile gained strength, and moisture gathered in her eyes. “I love you both.”
Celia set a full cup of water on the nightstand and took up the tray. “Would you like more broth?”
Jackson looked to Amanda, who moved her head back and forth on the pillow in a weak but clear gesture of denial.
“Fresh linens?”
Jackson wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to expose Amanda to check with the children there. “There’s a clean set in the bureau if we need them.”
“Very well. I’ll leave you be unless you call for help. Come, Noah and Jewel. Come with Celia. It’s time to wash your faces and put your nightclothes on.”
A sudden rush of guilt wilted Jackson’s frame. The rising moon would be a crescent. It wouldn’t cast enough light to guide a horse, much less a carriage. Celia would be forced to stay the night. “I wish I had a spare bed to offer.”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout me one bit. I’ll find a place to light. And don’t you hesitate to wake me, neither.”
“I’ll go stable your horse.”
“No need. Noah already helped me with that.”
“Thank you for staying.” He rued the inadequacy of the words, yet meant them with all his heart. “Goodnight,” he added as she left and the children followed her out.
Jackson closed the door. When he returned to Amanda’s side, her brow was twisted in a look of pure agony. He’d hoped to spend some time talking, once they were alone, but that wasn’t to be.
He gave her more medicine and a few spoonsful of water then brushed the stray locks from her forehead. Disease had dulled her eyes and her complexion, but not her hair. Brilliant strands of copper and gold still shot the brown through and glowed in the lamplight.
Jackson waited till Amanda’s brow unknotted itself before attempting to move her. He rolled her as the doctor had and checked the state of the sheets and her gown. Still dry. Her skin had a papery feel, and it was cooler than it should be. Not cold, but also not filled with the warm glow of health. He pulled the quilt up over her shoulders, tossed a couple of logs onto the fire, and sank onto the chair.
The rich, resonant tone of Celia’s voice carried past the walls of the children’s room as she helped them say their prayers and tucked them in their beds. “Lay still now and close your eyes,” she told them then hummed a tune that morphed into song. “Swing lowww, sweet charrrriot... comin’ for to carry me home. Swing lowww, sweet charrrriot. Comin’ for to carry me home…”
Amanda drifted into something that looked like sleep, but it wasn’t rest. Her cheeks grew pallid, and her lids twitched beneath a furrowed brow.
Jackson leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. He sensed the distance between them growing.
