The Heart of the Mountains, page 28
She regretted not having Jonathan with her, or their mothers, but down deep, she knew she’d made the right choice for everyone involved. She smiled as Jeb held her cold fingers in his warm ones. Especially for her. Life afforded hardship and unexpected turns, but something in Jeb McAdams’s forthrightness and gentleness assured her she’d never find anyone like him again, and she wasn’t one to waste time on a decision when the right one fell directly in front of her.
Of course, their wedding day proved as atypical as their courtship. They’d barely finished some coffee and stack cake, provided by Granny Burcham and Mercy, when the inevitable came. Jeb and Elias planned to drive Paul, Willow, and the baby to the train depot, and Uncle Edward agreed to escort Cora back to the McAdamses’.
“Promise me you won’t leave Mama’s house till I come for you.” Jeb tugged her into a private hallway of the house as Paul and Willow settled in the wagon outside.
He slipped a thumb over her cheek and she leaned into the touch. “I promise.”
“I don’t like this a’tall.” His fingers slid down to cup her chin. “I can’t take care of my wife if she’s all the way across the mountain from me.”
His wife. Her eyes drifted closed against the warmth in his touch. Oh, the way his deep voice cradled those words nearly puddled her to the floor. “They’ll feel safer with you at the lead, Jeb.” She looked back up at him, raising her own palm to touch his face. What an intimate gesture, but she held this freedom now. He was hers and she was his. “They’re the ones most in danger of an attack. Plus, your mother needs me.”
He swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple moved. “Take your pistol.”
“I will.”
With deliberate and slow progress, he leaned over and touched his lips to hers, gentle, lingering, warming her from the kiss all the way down through her body. She clung to the sweetness of belonging to him, having his arms around her. No, this wasn’t how she’d always dreamed of her wedding or wedding day, but life rarely turned out the way one expected, and if it had, she would never have known Jeb McAdams.
He lowered his forehead to hers, a smile tipping his lips. “Law, woman, I like those lips of yours a whole lot.”
She grinned at his endearing directness. “They’re at your disposal whenever you like.”
He raised a brow as if doubting her answer. “I’m afraid that just ain’t so, ‘cause I know exactly what I’d like, and I cain’t make it happen right now.”
The hooded gaze he sent her incited all sorts of wonderful sparks through her body. Was that why the mountain folks referred to the romantic interests of man and woman as sparking? It made perfect sense now.
He kissed her once more and she walked with him to the porch, watching him take his seat beside Elias in the wagon and then head down the trail. Uncle Edward came to stand beside her. “He’s a good man, Cora. One of the best I know.”
“You would have objected with more determination, I believe, if you’d thought otherwise.” She grinned up at her uncle, who’d teased Jeb about the rushed wedding.
“I would have.” He rubbed his bearded chin. “And he wouldn’t have been fit for you six months ago. Not with all the healing he needed from the war, but, I suppose …” He looked down at her. “Neither were you.”
He was right. She would have balked at the idea of living in Maple Springs, let alone marrying a mountain man, six months ago. She carried her own scars and pride from the battlefield, her own stubborn way of thinking. But when she looked back on the young woman who’d volunteered as a nurse over a year ago, she barely recognized herself.
The sky bloomed with late afternoon colors and the cool wind blew against her cheeks. She drew in a breath and turned to her uncle. “Let’s get on our way. Caroline will need me, and I pray Suzie is on the mend.”
But the painful reality hit Cora as soon as she stepped over the threshold of the McAdamses’ house. Suzie’s cough had grown worse and her striving for air nearly inverted her ribs. Her lips had taken on a more purplish hue and sweat dampened her golden hair into tight ringlets.
“Ain’t no relief for her,” Caroline said, her voice strained, her eyes red-rimmed. “She’s coughin’ so much, she ain’t hardly breathin’.”
Cora scanned the room, and her attention fastened on the kitchen. The smaller space might allow the hot water to remain in the air around Suzie longer. She turned to Uncle Edward. “Would you help us move her to the kitchen table?”
“What?” His brows shot high. Caroline didn’t even flinch.
“The kitchen is smaller and closer to Caroline’s cookstove. Perhaps the smallness of the space and the fact we can boil water directly on the cookstove to keep the pots of water hot around Suzie may help.” She met her uncle’s gaze. “What we’re doing isn’t working. We have to try something different.”
He scooped the little girl up in his arms and they moved everything into the kitchen as Isom and Maggie kept James and John entertained in the loft. Uncle Edward stayed, fetching water and bringing firewood, until evening started to settle in. He paused a moment to pray over Suzie before taking his leave.
Caroline spoke little as tears waited at every turn, and Cora worked hard to ease Suzie’s position and attempt to get some ice into her. Suzie took a few pieces and even sipped on some water before she began coughing again. Her face flushed bright and her responses remained small. Cora prayed like she’d never prayed in her life. Begging for healing, asking for wisdom, searching for strength. Every symptom pointed to one end, and the very idea tore at her need to heal and help. To fix things. But she had no power to fix this no matter how hard she tried.
As evening fell, she convinced Caroline to try and sleep a little. Cora ached for rest herself, but from the droop in Caroline’s step to the weariness in her eyes, the woman needed a respite much more than Cora.
The other children had gone to bed and the house fell silent except for the sound of Suzie’s coughing and the crackling fire. Cora patted Suzie’s head with a cloth and waved the steam toward her face, hoping the moist air would finally make a much-needed difference. Butter, the dog, lay by the table as if guarding Suzie, and the sight nearly had Cora laying her head against the table and weeping.
“God, where are you?” she whispered. “Can’t You see how much Your little one is suffering? How much her family is suffering? Won’t You please help?”
She must have dozed off a little, because a loud sound woke her from her crouched position at the table. Butter shot to his feet and the sound came again, from the back of the house.
The back of the house. Cora’s blood ran cold. Hadn’t Caroline said the easiest door to break open was the back door? She stood and pulled her pistol from her pocket as she rounded the table, placing herself between whoever entered and Suzie. Would one of the folks angry about Jeb’s kept women break into the McAdamses’ house to exact some sort of judgment? She couldn’t see anything out the dark window. Butter stood to attention, not growling.
Could it be someone he knew? She took a step toward the door. Jeb, perhaps?
And then the door burst open. Standing in the doorway, eyes wild and bottle in hand, stepped Sam McAdams. His gaze fixed on Cora then shifted to Suzie and back, the look on his face darkening from surprise to fury.
“What have you done to my young’un, flatlander?” He shifted forward and slammed the bottle against the doorframe, causing Suzie to jump. “You hurt my kin, and now I’m gonna hurt you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cora shifted a step back, bumping into the table, the gun quivering in her palms. “Mr. McAdams, Suzie is sick. I’m here to try and help her.”
“Lies.” His bleary eyes held no reasoning. “I heared tell about you, woman. I know what kind you are. You’re full of lies, and you’re bringin’ your sin into my house. What did you do to my young’un?”
His hand swept to grab her, but his uncoordinated and slow movements gave her time to sidestep him, leaving his fist to crash into the wall nearby. He released a roar, and Suzie whimpered, distracting Cora long enough for Sam’s fingers to dig into the upper flesh of her arm. She cried out as his grip tightened and the pistol fell from her grip.
“Sam McAdams, you let that girl go.”
Cora swung her attention to the doorway where Caroline marched forward. The shock shook Sam’s hold from Cora and he stumbled back enough that Caroline positioned herself between Cora and Sam.
“That woman’s brought sin in our house. She ain’t got no cause to be—”
“What would you know ‘bout it, Sam McAdams? You’ve either been gone or too drunk to know what’s been goin’ on in your own house the past few days.” Caroline’s response was as surprising to Sam as it was to Cora. She’d never heard Caroline raise her voice, but from the tension on her face, she looked like she could fight her husband and win. Cora thought of articles she’d read about how mother bears or lions protect their offspring to death, if necessary, even from the father of the cubs.
“You don’t talk to me like that, woman.” He growled, gaining volume again.
“If you can’t behave yourself, you need to leave the house, Sam.” Caroline pointed to the back door. “We ain’t got time to deal with your foolery when we got a sick baby to tend.”
“I ain’t leavin’ that woman in this house—” He marched forward but Caroline moved to block his path to Cora.
“Get out, Sam. Now.”
He turned wide eyes on his wife and raised his hand with another roar, keeping it in the air as if he was uncertain what to do next.
“It’s right you think twice afore hittin’ me, Sam McAdams.” Caroline braced her fists on her hips and stood taller, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “‘Cause if you hit me, you better kill me. If’n you don’t, I’m gonna git up and kill you.”
He stared, frozen in place.
“I know the drunk is up front, but the man can hear me. You want to know why our young’un is gaspin’ for every breath?” Her voice rose, strained, holding back who knew how much fury and grief. “You and your drunk. That’s what done it. You keered more about your liquor than for your own kin, and now she may be dyin’.” Caroline’s voice broke on the last word and something in that show of weakness impacted Sam.
He looked over at Suzie, her labored breath scraping across the tension-singed air, and something flickered within his expression. Realization? Regret? Horror? He turned his gaze back to Caroline and stumbled back as if she’d struck him. With a sound like a wounded animal, he rushed out into the night, leaving the door open and the night air swarming into the room.
Cora rushed to Suzie and wrapped blankets around her.
Caroline followed where Sam disappeared, staring out into the darkness before closing the door and returning to Suzie’s side.
“You alright?”
Cora nodded. “Are you?”
Caroline looked back toward the closed door and then ran a hand over Suzie’s head. “You think a bit of lavender tea might bring some relief?”
“Is it possible to mix lavender with some more of the goldenrod?” Anything to make a difference. Suzie’s little body couldn’t maintain this fever much longer, and if the swelling didn’t reduce in her throat … “Granny Burcham says it may help reduce swelling in muscles, and since the place I think is swollen is the muscles of her voice, then maybe it will help.”
“Been giving it to her since you mentioned it yester eve.”
“Good.” Cora looked back at the little girl. “Hopefully, it’s doing some good.”
After warming more water to fill the pots surrounding Suzie, Cora adjusted the little girl’s position by lengthening her neck in an attempt to open the airway. Caroline had tied another onion poultice to Suzie’s feet in order to reduce her fever. Maybe this time?
Cora leaned her weary head back against the wall, listening to Suzie’s breaths. Praying the next one would be easier. Or the next. Another noise from the front of the house shook her from her momentary stupor and brought her to her feet.
Oh no! Not again.
Caroline raised a palm for Cora to remain in the kitchen and then disappeared into the front room. Cora stepped to Suzie’s side, something different in the girl’s pallor. Her heart seized in her chest and she stepped closer. The room had grown quiet. Much too quiet.
Jeb had never seen his mother look so weary. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him for longer than a brief embrace, almost as if she drew from his strength. He held on and walked with slow steps toward the kitchen. Her head even dropped against his shoulder, and he squeezed her closer.
“It’s bad?”
She answered with a sigh.
Jeb steadied his shoulders and pressed his emotions deep, readying for the task of comforter. He barely knew Suzie. The little girl had been only three when he left for war, but the loss struck a deep blow nonetheless. A little life. A mother’s grief. He had no concept of such a soul-shaking ache.
“Caroline.” A harsh whisper brought his attention up to the kitchen doorway, where Cora stood, her gaze taking him in. Some sound like a sob erupted from her throat, which didn’t match the smile on her face. “Her fever’s broken. She’s breathing easier.”
Mama stumbled forward and Jeb caught her, guiding her by the shoulders into the kitchen. With a quiet whimper, she collapsed beside the table and quietly shook. He’d never seen his mama cry like this. He stepped forward and knelt beside her, placing his hand on her back. Within seconds, he felt another touch near his fingers. He looked up and Cora had done the same, her palm on his mama’s back next to his. Their eyes met, hers glossy with tears, and he placed his hand over hers then closed his eyes to thank God. Thank God for keeping one little life in this world for now. For answering his mama’s pleas. For bringing Cora.
The raspy sounds of Suzie’s breaths punctuated the silence, but a sudden sense of peace washed over him. After all he’d been through, and the hours he’d beat himself up over not being fast enough or strong enough or brave enough, God held him as assuredly as he held Suzie and Mama and Cora, even if God’s answer was “no” or “wait.” He’d answered “no” with Amos and “wait” with Daddy. He answered “no” with Mercy, but given Jeb much more than he’d ever imagined when Cora entered his life. He’d thought, at first, he’d lost all his joy and hope in France. There had been so much loss and hatred and human brokenness, he’d forgotten how to see beyond the grief and the hour ahead. But, little by little, God had taken Jeb’s natural gifts and passions, like his woodworking and his drive to protect others, and used them to bring a future business and a rescue-turned-wife. Both beyond what he deserved or even dreamed.
So maybe, with the situation about the rumors, Mercy, his daddy, and even Kizzie, God was shaping situations and circumstances to form a better story with grander vistas than Jeb could ever imagine.
After a little while, he helped the ladies to a stand and Mama served warm milk and molasses cookies as Cora continued to monitor Suzie. With each passing minute, her breathing became gentler and the cough less. Cora’s eyes were heavy and the night well spent when Jeb and Cora finally bid Mama good night, mounted Hickory, and started the trek toward home. Their home, plus a few extra folks.
This time, she cozied right up next to him as they rode together, her body wrapped in a wedding ring quilt mama gave to them when she’d learned they’d married. She rode sidesaddle, “due to the type of skirt she wore,” she’d said, but he didn’t mind. He could see her face this way.
“Mama said you gave the twins a bath while she was tendin’ to some chores.”
Cora’s head tottered forward, eyes dropping, before she snapped her head back up. “I thought it might be a help to her after all she’s been managing.”
She shivered and he tightened his hold around her, shifting her so that she could rest against him a bit better. Her head dropped against his shoulder, and she sighed. He rested his chin down against her head for a second.
“Did some house cleanin’ too, as I understand.”
“Mmm hmm …” Her forehead brushed against his neck and she nestled her cold nose closer. “Oh, your neck is warm.”
He chuckled, enjoying this unhindered display of affection and trust from her.
“The twins’ hair was such a pretty red color underneath the dirt they’d been in.” She yawned and shivered again. “I like … your arms … around me like …”
With a little purr of a sound, she grew silent and nestled her forehead against his neck. Lord help him. He wasn’t quite sure he ever wanted to reach home if he could keep her nestled all close and soft against him.
Mercy had lighted the lanterns, so Jeb slipped Cora from the horse. She woke for only a moment before smiling up at him and dozing off again. This time, he carried her into his house knowing full well who she was and where she belonged. Puck’s paws tapped against the porch and hardwoods as he followed them inside, Jeb attempting to be as quiet as possible. Mercy, Granny Burcham, and the young’uns must have gone to bed hours ago. Question was, where would he put Cora?
As if in answer, Mercy stood from the wingback by the fire, her dark hair in a long braid and a shawl around her shoulders. “I fixed up the downstairs room for y’all.”
She moved past him and opened the door to the room so he could slip in and place Cora on the bed. She murmured something, but he didn’t have any idea what it was.
“Thank you, Mercy.”
She smiled the sweet smile of one friend happy for another. “It’s a good pairing, Jeb. The likes of you two. I wouldn’t have picked it, if I’d been choosing, but in hindsight, it’s real good.”
He nodded and she stepped from the room, closing the door behind her. With gentle hands, he took off Cora’s boots, coat, and shirtwaist, then placed the new blanket on top of the ones he already had on the bed, tucking it around her.
She yawned and blinked up at him. “Are you staying with me here?”
What a question! His throat tightened and he smiled. “You go on back to sleep. I’m gonna go take care of Hickory.”
