“He won’t die, Travis. Jonas is strong, and I have faith the Lord will heal him.”
Josie glanced back, noticing Dr. Gordon and Aunt Polly standing in the doorway. She gently cradled the back of Travis’s head, running her fingers through his dark locks. She knew what a risk it was to have him in her arms, exposing him to a deadly disease, but she couldn’t push him away.
She would never separate her husband from his son. And she couldn’t bear to be apart from him, either.
Chapter Thirty-Three
TraviskneltnexttoJonas’s bedside with swollen, heavy eyes. He was careful not to surrender to sleep, for fear his son would take his final breath. The longer he stayed awake, the longer he could hear his son breathing. The day before, Jonas looked so healthy as he and Gideon played with wooden farm animals. That day had been perfect, sitting in front of the fireplace as a full family.
But nothing could have prepared him for this agonizing moment.
Their life was no longer blissful and whole as they now were all separated, praying for dear life that Jonas could make it another day. Jonas’s tiny chest moved up and down, his eyelids closed and glistening from the oil lamp. His sun-kissed skin had turned icy pale, his body appearing smaller, nearly swallowed by the layers of coverings draped over him. Travis touched his son’s face. The fever was still present. Jonas had survived the night, but the worst was far from over.
Travis stared at the inflamed red rash beneath the boy’s ear. As long as it remained, there was a possibility Jonas would succumb to the disease. Travis wrung out the rag that rested in the basin of cold water and pressed it against the boy’s face. Jonas let out a soft moan.
“Lord, please heal my poor boy. Spare him, I beg you. He’s just a child,” Travis whispered with full desperation in his heart.
The agony of his son’s suffering made him explode into tears. Travis wasn’t sure how much more loss he could take. At ten, he lost his father, which marked the beginning. When Travis lost his uncle and cousins, it made him feel as though he’d be lonely for the rest of his life.
Until Sophie. They vowed until death parted them, but Travis never thought that death would be a decade later. The thought of almost losing Josie had pushed him to the brink, and now, he faced the terrifying possibility of losing his son. Jonas was too feeble and young to succumb to such a disease.
A knock at the door interrupted Travis’s thoughts, followed by the soft sound of footsteps that he believed to be Josie’s.
“His fever hasn’t broken yet,” Travis muttered, his hands folded in front of him.
Josie sat beside him and set down a tray of tea. “We can’t give up hope yet. He made it through the night, and the least we can do is have faith.” She poured a cup and handed it to Travis. “Aunt Polly just brewed this—willow bark tea. It’ll help bring the fever down. Lift his head so we can have him sip.”
Travis lifted Jonas’s head. “Jonas, take a few sips of this tea. It will help you get better.”
The boy cracked his eyes open just a quarter of the way and took a few sips. Travis gently rubbed the back of Jonas’s head, feeling the sweat dampen his curls. After swallowing, Jonas coughed a few times before whimpering. As Travis prepared to lay him back down, Josie quickly fluffed the pillows. Althoughthe child’s breathing had returned to a more normal rhythm, he was still very much unwell.
“Travis, are you all right?” Josie asked, her hand on his back.
Travis sighed, rubbing his eyes. Exhaustion still took a toll over his body, his vision growing hazier by the minute. All he wanted was to rest, but he knew he had to remain by his son’s side. Jonas needed his pa with him; it was essential for his recovery. Simply being there might give the boy the strength to fight.
“It’s nothing. I’m just tired is all.”
Josie sat on the bedside, cupping his face in her cold hands. Travis jolted as a shiver ran up his spine. She rested a hand over his forehead, rubbing it softly. “Are you sure? You don’t look too well.”
“W-What do you mean?” Travis pulled her hand away and folded his arms at his chest. “I’m fine. I’m just exhausted from sitting here, waiting for my son to heal.”
“Your eyes just look a little glassy.” Her expression darkened, the color draining from her face as her lips parted.
“What is it?” Travis asked anxiously, his pulse rising.
Josie swallowed, her gaze firm. She clasped his forearm. “Travis, you need to lie down. I’ll look after Jonas.”
Travis shook his head. “No, I’m staying here. I’m just exhausted. All will pass when Jonas’s fever breaks.”
“I need you to lie down now, please. I beg you to get some rest.”
“I won’t,” Travis snapped. He hugged himself tighter to preserve warmth. His thoughts drifted back to the time he left his father laboring in the fields while he ran off to play with a stray dog. He’d grown weary of the endless harvesting and dismissed his father’s sharp scolding to keep working.
“Your father’s heart gave out,”Mama explained when Travis came home to a crowded home and sorrowful cries. Travis bitinto his lower lip and shook his head. No more breaks. He would never rest again.
“How would you feel if this was Nathan, hm? Let me stay with my son.” Travis leaned and buried his face into Jonas’s feeble hand.
“I understand what you mean, but you are catching the fever.” Josie paused, and Travis’s mouth parted as he sat straight up.Fever?That couldn’t be true. He was exhausted; that was all.
