Read Streams of Mercy Online

Authors: Lauraine Snelling

Tags: #FIC027050, #Triangles (Interpersonal relations)—Fiction, #Mate selection—Fiction, #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #Widows—Fiction, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction

Streams of Mercy (29 page)

BOOK: Streams of Mercy
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“I will call him. You know he will be right here to be with her?”

“I know, and short of locking him in a cell, I can think of no way to prevent it.”

“Since he has already been exposed, perhaps it is best that he come.”

Another ugly thought slammed her. “What about Inga and Roald?”

“How I wish we could send them to Ingeborg. It would be good comfort for all of them.”

“I asked Kaaren to keep her from coming to town. I wanted to talk with Freda but . . .” She sighed again. “So much death. There’s a monstrous difference between reading about something like this and being in the middle of it.”

“Ja.” He used the desk to hold himself up.

“There is no way to prepare for it.”

His voice rumbled. “You’ve done all that you could. Everyone has.”

She shook her head. “We should not have asked the husbands to help on the train.”

“But you didn’t know it was contagious.”

“I should have known better. I’m a doctor.”


Should
never did anyone any good looking back.”

“Ja, easy to say.”

Reverend Solberg forced a weak smile. “But hard to do in the middle of a battle. That’s why we have others praying for us. God promised to deliver us from the enemies. He will not go back on His Word. He cannot.”

Setting her now empty cup on the desk, Astrid stared at the door. “I’d better get back out there.”

“Not yet. I’ll go call Thorliff right now.”

“Ja.” A wave of gratitude that Daniel had had the disease as a child rolled over her. She tipped her head back and listened to the hospital sounds. People walking, pans rattling, murmurs, coughing, a child crying. All the normal sounds. She was sure that any minute Thorliff would be pounding on the doors.

Solberg returned. “He’ll be here any moment. Together Devlin and I could keep him out.”

“What, and tie him up? Keep him locked up? We have no jail here, remember.” She headed for the front door, fully understanding that nothing she said would make any difference. But she had to make the effort. She watched him come striding down the street. She stepped outside.

“It won’t work,” he announced.

“Will you please listen to me for a moment? She is sleeping right now.”

He clamped his arms across his chest, his jaw steel, blue eyes icy.

“We might have caught it early enough. The antitoxin might be doing its work and will help fight this off. Many survive it, as you well know.”

“And her total exhaustion will not complicate things?”

Astrid shrugged. “Possibly but not definitely.”

He squinted, still sending sharp icicles at her. “When can I see her?” Shaking his head, he looked around. “After all we’ve been through, I can’t lose her.” Rubbing his forehead, he stared down at the ground.

“Do you have a headache?”

“A little. Who wouldn’t with all this?”

“Sore throat? Cough?”

“Don’t be a doctor with me. I’d tell you if that were the case.”

“Strange thing, I don’t trust you at all right now.”

“I had the antitoxin too, remember. And I’m strong as an ox. Always have been.”

She studied his face, dark circles not just under his eyes but all around. Haggard, pale. But then he’d not had much time to be out in the sun; running a newspaper was not like farming. Reminding him wouldn’t do any good.

“I am going to stay with her,” he announced. “You might as well get used to the idea.”

“What about your children?”

“Thelma is taking care of them. Inga keeps asking to go see Grandma. Roald seems to have gotten over the worst of wanting to see his ma. Maybe he’s too young to remember long. So are you going to let me in or am I going to pick you up and move you out of the way?”

His tone sounded conversational, but Astrid had no doubt he meant every word he’d said. She inhaled slowly and stepped aside. “Stubborn, bullheaded man.” She followed him. “She’s in room one.”

Someone had already moved a chair into the room for him. Astrid stopped in the doorway and watched her brother stare at his sleeping wife. While he reached for her hand, he did not touch it, obviously not wanting to wake her. He knew more than anyone how often she could not sleep. He didn’t say a word, just watched her.

The next time Astrid stopped at the door, he was sound sleep in the chair. She tapped him on the shoulder. “The other bed is ready for you. Might as well sleep there and not fall off the chair. The clatter might awaken her.”

“Takk.”

For a change he did as she requested, carefully removing his boots to not dirty the linens.

Lord, please protect him.
As she watched, he unconsciously scratched his right arm. Please, just a mosquito bite. But when she checked, there was no bump but a rash about the size of the palm of her hand. Dread settled on her even as she strode to the supply room for a healing ointment her mother had created and prepared. Astrid saw the bottle of honey on the shelf. Should she apply that too or scrub it with carbolic acid? She
chose the carbolic and ointment, knowing there was honey in the ointment too. She thought to wait until he woke but instead went in with supplies in hand and shook his shoulder gently.

“I’m going to put this on your arm,” she whispered. When he frowned at her, she added, “You’ve been scratching it.”

He looked over to Elizabeth.

“She’s still sleeping.” She didn’t mention the cough. If he had not heard it, he needed the sleep as bad as his wife. He clenched his teeth at the carbolic scrub but mouthed “Thank you” when she smoothed the unguent into place.

When Solberg and Devlin checked in with her again she told them about the rash.

“Like that man with the ulcer on his leg who died?”

“I don’t know. That was the first time I’d seen diphtheria as an ulcer, or I’ve never seen it in the early stages. Maybe he got into poison ivy or something. I’ll ask him when he wakes up. He looks terrible.”

“Thorliff has looked terrible for some time, but he keeps on going. I wonder when the next paper is due out.”

“Why?”

“Because if it is soon, he’ll be worrying about that.”

“I can be of service there,” Devlin offered. “Anji has already written some articles for the paper. Something to think on.” Devlin rubbed his chin, nodding at the same time.

“You know the world will not stop if the Blessing paper is late or misses an edition.”

“True, but since this be his livelihood . . .”

“And perhaps we can stop some of the rumors that are frightening everyone, since we can’t have any meetings. Maybe an article about diphtheria, some interviews, a bit of news from elsewhere . . .” Solberg nodded as he spoke. “And maybe after some sleep Thorliff will feel restored enough to answer our questions.”

“And Anji and meself will help him.”

Astrid stared at them. Here she was, sure that Elizabeth was not going to be with them much longer, and these two men were planning for the future. Right now she had to get from day to day.

“I’ll leave you to yourselves.”

Later when she listened to Elizabeth’s heart and lungs, another dread made itself known. Diphtheria could cause heart failure along with all the other problems. It seemed to attack any weak organ besides the glands that were swelling. “Elizabeth, we need to get some nourishment and liquids into you.”

“What is the prognosis?” She felt her neck. “The glands are swelling. My throat is sore. I suspect I have been coughing.”

“Elizabeth?” On the other bed, Thorliff turned his head to look.

She glanced over to the other bed. “Why is Thorliff here?”

“Because I insisted.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side.

Astrid snorted. “
Demanded
is more like it.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked Astrid, accusation lacing his voice.

“I needed to examine Elizabeth first.”

Elizabeth’s voice sounded raspy. “Can you please help me sit up, Thorliff? Then if you would go to the kitchen and bring me some soup and a glass of water.”

“Get supper for yourself too while you are there. Mrs. Geddick will give you a tray.”

“Is it that late?”

“Nearly. Since you are here, you might as well make yourself useful.” She watched his inner argument fly across his face. When she smiled at him, good humor won, and he smiled to his wife.

“I’ll get my boots on and be right back.”

As soon as he left the room, Elizabeth stared into Astrid’s
eyes. “You know and I know that there is only a slim chance that I will be able to overcome this. What does my heart sound like? And no hedging here.”

“Weak and erratic.”

“Check to see if the membrane is growing.”

Astrid took another tongue depressor from the bag in her apron pocket. “Possibly on your tonsils.”

“Then I will gargle with salt water like Ingeborg says, eat honey by the spoonful, do everything you tell me, and we’ll all keep praying.” She closed her eyes and one tear trickled down her cheek. “I want to hold my children.” She held Astrid’s hand in a vise grip. “Lord, please protect my babies.” Looking back up at Astrid, she asked, her words halting, “Do you think it would be better for them to not see me again or come over and we can talk through the window at least?”

Astrid puffed out a breath of air, shaking her head at the same time. “One side of me says Inga needs to come, but not Roald. He won’t remember anyway. He is too little. Should I ask Mor or John?”

“Let me think on it, but it must be soon, like before dark.”

“I agree. One more thing, there is a rash on Thorliff’s arm that he was scratching in his sleep. Not a mosquito bite.”

Elizabeth shut her eyes again. “My fault.”

“How can it be your fault? He’s not exhibiting other symptoms.” She cut off the
yet
that threatened.

“I let him come help when the call came in.”

“But both Thorliff and Daniel would have been there in spite of us. Where help is needed, they are there. You know that.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Maybe he got into some poison ivy.”

“Sure, he grows it behind the newspaper office.” She was silent again. “Don’t tell him.”

“I won’t have to. He’s not dumb or blind, you know. I have
a feeling he won’t leave until you are out of the woods. At least the other times you were home. Well, not for Roald’s birth, but you recuperated at home.”

“I am so tired, Astrid, so very tired.”

Mrs. Geddick herself entered with a laden tray, and Thorliff came in right behind her. Mrs. Geddick announced, “We need more chickens.”

Astrid nodded. “Daniel is working on that. Thank you, Mrs. Geddick.”

“Yes, thank you.” Thorliff took the tray and carried it to the bedside table.

Astrid forced brightness into her voice. “Oh, look! She sent you some raspberry juice too. And beef stew. Mrs. Geddick made the stew for those who can swallow well. I don’t know how she can stand the chicken soup, she’s made so much of it. Here’s some cheese too and a slice of fresh bread with butter and jam.”

Astrid backed away. They didn’t need her. Thorliff knew how to take care of his wife.

“Before you leave, Astrid.” Elizabeth sounded so frail. “I want Thelma or someone to bring Inga over so I can talk with her through the window.”

“Roald?”

“No,” Thorliff said. “He won’t remember, and it might make him cry for you even worse. Yes, I know what’s been going on, but we can’t take chances. I’m just praying we were not contagious yet when we went home the next day.”

Astrid watched Thorliff, who was studying his wife. “Please call, Astrid, while I make sure she eats and drinks plenty.” He tried to smile, but the pain did not leave his eyes.

When Astrid returned, Elizabeth was asleep and Thorliff sat watching her, holding her hand. “Daniel is bringing Inga so Thelma can stay with Roald.”

“She could come on her own.”

“I know, but I think this is better. She loves Onkel Daniel.”

“Inga loves everybody. She’s like Mor.”

“True.”

Elizabeth woke and heaved a sigh. “How long until she is here? I want to be in the chair to watch her come. Astrid, please bring me an apron to cover this gown.” She pushed herself upright and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “How does my hair look?”

“Good. A bit like you had a nap, but . . .”

Astrid handed her a clean apron and tied it for her in the back.

Thorliff carried the chair over to the window and set it down so she could rest her elbows on the sill. “Shame we can’t open the window.”

“I don’t want to take any chances. If I have to cough . . .”

He helped her get settled, and Astrid finger-combed some tendrils into the bun.

“There they come. She’s dragging Daniel.”

“Ma!” Inga waved, dropped his hand, and ran to stand under the window. “We sure are missing you. Roald fusses. I want to go out to the farm to see Grandma, but most I want you to come home.” Her words fell over each other, then got up and ran on again. She was speaking plenty loud enough for Elizabeth to hear her through the glass.

“I need something to stand on so I can see you better. ’Member when I stood on Benny’s wagon and it tipped over when we were trying to get to know Manny? He sure was mean at first. Did you know he is taking care of the elephants? He even rode Olive. Just think, riding on an elephant. I sure hope I can too.”

“How about I let you stand on my knee?” Daniel asked, smiling at those inside.

“But you are standing on them.”

Daniel knelt on one knee and bent the other. “You can hold on to me.”

“Don’t wobble or we might both fall over.” She stood up on his knee and gripped the windowsill. “Now I can see you good. Did you have a good nap?”

“I did. How is Scooter?”

“He barked at the elephants. You should have seen him tear up and down by the fence. Violet flapped her ears at him and kept walking, but the little one went on the other side of her. They sure can walk fast. I watched Manny take them down to the river to eat. He walked by our fence just ’cause I asked him to.”

“When did you talk with Manny?”

“We didn’t talk close. He won’t come near anyone.” She grabbed for Daniel’s head when she wobbled.

BOOK: Streams of Mercy
6.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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