Ever Constant, page 23
For a moment, he thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Pardon me?”
“I can’t marry you.” She looked down at her hands and then back up at him. “It’s not that I don’t care for you—I do. As a friend. It was very nice that you asked to court me, and our time together was lovely. Thank you for that. But I won’t marry you.”
He stepped forward.
“Please. Don’t try to convince me otherwise. My mind is made up.” And with that, she slipped out the door.
As it clicked behind her, Judas narrowed his eyes.
This wasn’t the end of the discussion. He still had plenty of cards to play. A winning hand.
No one turned Judas Reynolds down.
Pounding from somewhere made Peter sit up straight in bed. He wiped his hands down his face and listened. There it was again. He hadn’t dreamed it.
Jumping to his feet, he grabbed his robe from the end of the bed and then raced to the door.
When he opened it, Daniel was standing there. “We need you to come quick, Peter. It’s Bethany. She’s spiked a high fever, and we can’t bring it down.”
He nodded and went to pack a bag. This wasn’t good news. Five more cases had erupted in Nome, and even though he’d tried to quarantine the men from the rest of the town, he’d known it had likely been too late.
Dressing as fast as he could, he prayed that no one else in the family would get it.
“I brought a horse for you.” Daniel took his bag and tied it to his saddle.
Peter mounted and gave him a nod. “Let’s go.”
They pushed the horses as fast as they dared through the deep snow and made it to the farm in less than fifteen minutes.
“You go in. I’ll take care of the horses.”
“Thanks.” Peter took his bag and went in.
Whitney stood there, tears in her eyes. “She hasn’t had the measles. I asked. She’s terribly hot.”
He stared deep into her eyes. “I’m here. In a day or two, she’ll be right as rain.” He prayed his words were true. “Take me to her.”
Havyn and John stood out in the hall.
Peter stopped and looked at John. “You need to keep your wife away from this sickness. It could be very dangerous for the baby.”
John’s face turned very serious, and Havyn put a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t think about that.” With a hand to her expanding stomach, she winced. “I’m sorry we won’t be able to help.”
John took his wife by the arm. “We’ll move into the room I used as a foreman right away.” He turned to Havyn. “Don’t worry, darling. There’s plenty of family to help. Let’s just keep you and the baby healthy.”
Peter gripped John’s shoulder. “Keep her away from the house. You keep your distance as well and keep your hands washed.” He turned and looked at the rest of the family gathered outside of the room Bethany shared with Ruth. “If this is what has been spreading through the villages and now Nome, we need to take it very seriously. I need everyone’s help to keep things clean. Wash your hands. Regularly.”
They all nodded.
“Who’s with her now?”
“Madysen.” Whitney said. “We were going to take turns sitting with her.”
“Since you live in close quarters, you all might get sick. My highest priority right now is to help Bethany’s fever to break, but second to that is to ensure that Havyn doesn’t get it.”
Whitney’s chin lifted. “We’ll do whatever you need us to do.”
“How many of you have had the measles?”
“We all have.” Whitney answered for the group.
That, at least, was in his favor. But the influenza had proven deadly, and none of them were protected from that.
At that moment, a terrible cough came from the other room. “Keep hot water boiling on the stove. I’ll need as many rags as you can find. Keep them boiled and clean. I’ll have to use them for poultices that need to be changed out regularly.”
He moved into the room and saw young Bethany, flushed and sweating. “Why don’t you take a break, Madysen.”
She nodded and joined the rest of the family in the hall. All except Whitney. She came in and opened his bag. “Let me help you.”
He nodded. “I want to listen to her heart first.”
She dug in his bag and handed him the stethoscope.
After he examined her, he turned to face Whitney. “We’ll need to get some tea brewing right away and some poultices ready. Why don’t you get her changed out of this wet nightgown and I’ll go work on those things.”
“Of course.”
Three hours later, they’d worked side by side with precision, in perfect harmony. Something he hadn’t had in years. But the young girl’s temperature was finally coming down. “Thank you for your help, Whitney. Your gifts never cease to amaze me. Will you sit with her while I go speak to the rest of the family?”
She touched his arm. “Thank you.”
He dipped his chin. “It’s not over yet, but I’m hopeful.”
Walking down the hallway to the parlor, he tried to wrangle a thousand thoughts scrambling for attention. First and foremost, how good it was to work side by side with Whitney. Second, he’d barely skirted this sickness wiping out the villages and gold camps. But now, it was here. And there were a lot more people in Nome.
Everything got quiet as he walked into the room and approached the family. “It’s not as bad as we thought. She’s strong, but everyone needs to be vigilant.”
“How’s her fever?” Chris twisted his handkerchief in his hands.
“She’s sweating, which is a good sign. The fever started coming down after I applied the elderflower tea and some apple-cider vinegar compresses to her forehead and feet. It’s the cough I find most worrisome now.”
Dark circles under Chris’s eyes accentuated the tears that pooled there. “Can I see her?”
“Of course, but remember to wash your hands before and after seeing her. Talk to her and encourage her to keep fighting the fever.”
Eli stood up and grabbed onto his dad.
That was when Peter noticed Ruth. She hadn’t said anything in a while. Her face had paled considerably. “Ruth, how are you—”
“I fixed some sandwiches for everyone. They’re in the kitchen.” Madysen’s entrance into the room interrupted his question.
Then Ruth fell off her chair and onto the floor.
TWENTY-TWO
Three days had passed since Ruth’s collapse. Now Daniel, Madysen, and Eli were sick as well. Peter stood over the basin as he washed his face. He’d used up the last of his tea on them.
Thankfully, Bethany was improving, but so far she was the only one. This respiratory influenza was taking its toll on the household. Thank God there was no sign of the measles. But the two so often seemed to go hand in hand with this new horrible sickness. Since 1900, how many lives had been lost?
He worried most about Ruth. After losing her husband and being separated from her children, she simply didn’t seem to have the will to live. But he needed her to fight––
“Peter?” Whitney’s voice came from behind him.
He turned and dried off his face with a towel. The weariness in her eyes must certainly match his own, but she had been so strong. At his side every moment he needed her. There was no denying his feelings for her had grown ever stronger—ever constant. One day—after this crisis was over—he’d tell her.
“We’re out of the vinegar as well as mustard.” They’d made so many poultices, it was no wonder.
He stepped closer to her. “Do you think you and your father can handle taking care of everyone here? That way I can run into town and restock from my office and the mercantile. I need to check on my patients in town as well.”
“Sure. Whatever you need.” She looked like she had more to say, but she clamped her lips shut. “Should I harness a team for you? I think you’ll be able to manage them just fine on your own.”
He reached up and moved a curl from her face. The smile in her eyes was enough to keep him energized for days. But as much as he wanted to bare his soul then and there, now was not the time. “Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me. I’ll head out right away.”
When he brushed past her in the doorway, their hands touched. She captured his fingers, squeezed them, then turned and walked away.
An hour later, he’d gathered up what he could from his office and loaded it on the dogsled. The pups had been perfect on the journey back to town. He headed to the mercantile Daniel’s father owned to see if they had more vinegar and mustard in stock.
As he entered the familiar building, he narrowed his eyes. The atmosphere was different. And Martin Beaufort wasn’t behind the counter. As Peter walked through the store and picked up what he needed, his eyebrows raised. What was going on with the prices?
He headed for the counter. A stranger stood behind the counter, wearing an apron and helping a customer.
“But why is it so much more?” The elderly gentleman held out a sack of beans. “I’ve been buying the same bag of beans for years!”
“With new management came new pricing. It costs a lot of money to get supplies up here. That’s why Mr. Beaufort lost the business. He couldn’t make his payments.”
Peter couldn’t believe his ears. What was going on? Beaufort lost the business? That was odd. Daniel hadn’t said anything about that. What if he didn’t know? And who owned the mercantile now? When his turn came, he stepped up to the counter. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You say there’s new management?”
“Yes, sir.” The man smiled.
“Might I inquire who it is?”
“Of course, sir. Mr. Reynolds owns it now. He loaned Beaufort money to keep the store afloat for over a year. When the man couldn’t pay, the ownership reverted to Mr. Reynolds.”
Peter clamped his jaw shut. So Reynolds was behind this.
He handed the man behind the counter his list. He’d pay the extra charges for now and figure out what to do later. “Can you load these things onto the dogsled outside the door?”
“Yup.” The clerk took the paper and looked over the list.
Peter headed for the door. “I’ll pay you when I get back.”
He walked out of the store and went to the house behind it. He prayed Martin and Granny still had a place to stay, at least. After he knocked on the door, a cough greeted him from inside.
He opened the door. “Hello? Everyone all right?” He made his way into the parlor and found Granny sitting in a rocking chair, a quilt up to her chin.
“Sorry, Doc. I’m not feeling too well.”
He rushed to her side.
“Don’t be concerned about me. Martin’s the one who’s really sick.” She pointed to the back of the house.
“I’ll be right back.” Peter quickened his steps and found Martin in the bed. The man was delirious with fever.
“He took my store . . .” he mumbled. “He took my store . . .”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Beaufort.” He covered the man back up and went to put some water on to boil. As much as he wanted to confront Judas Reynolds at this moment, these people needed his attention more. Which was good.
Because he was quite certain he’d punch the man in the face if he saw him right now.
Whitney sat by the fireplace and stretched her aching muscles. Everyone was asleep, and Peter had come back from town with supplies and wanted to check his patients. Something was clearly bothering him because he hadn’t stopped frowning since he got back.
She hadn’t seen Havyn and John since Bethany first got sick. John had been handling the entire farm by himself, with the help of the hired workers.
Thank heaven Havyn was well, if not a bit restless.
Then there was Dad.
He’d helped Whitney take care of everyone. Never balking at anything she said. Never scolding her when she got short with him.
Guilt had nudged her many times. So far, though, she hadn’t done anything about it. Which was wrong. She’d have to make things right with him once and for all. And soon.
Good thing she’d dumped out the rest of the whiskey. Admitting that she would’ve given in to the temptation was awful. But true.
If only Mama was still here. She could really use her shoulder to lean on right now.
“Mind if I join you?”
Peter’s husky voice broke the silence of the room. He was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. The deep frown still creased his forehead.
“Not at all.” She scooted over to give him room to sit.
“You look deep in thought.”
She shifted her attention to her hands. “I guess I was. I was thinking about my mother and how much I wish she were here.”
“That’s understandable. Especially at a time like this.”
“I miss her every day. I realize that I wasted so much of the time I had with her and wish I could get some of it back.” She dared a look at him.
Their eyes met and his softened. “After my mother died, I battled those same thoughts. I thought of the ways I hadn’t been there for her. How I could have been a better son.”
“I definitely could have been a better daughter.” How many times had she exasperated her mother with her strong will and independence? The woman had been a saint . . . but Whitney hadn’t truly understood until Mama was gone. “She was my confidante and confessor. My guide and encourager. I always thought I was so strong, but once she was gone, I knew I hadn’t been the strong one. Not really. I’d relied on her for everything.”
Peter put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “Hindsight always helps us to see the what-ifs and could-have-beens. But it’s not a good place to dwell. Charlotte was my best friend since childhood. We’d known each other so long, and then . . . she was gone. I didn’t know who I was without her.”
His words struck her heart. It had been the same way with Mama. “Same here. Who am I now? And I have no idea how to let her go.” She clamped her hands between her knees and squeezed.
“I’m beginning to see that maybe it’s not about forgetting and letting go . . . maybe it’s more about giving ourselves permission to love again. So you can allow yourself to love your father . . . and maybe a husband one day.”
“And you . . . a wife?” Did she really just say that out loud?
“Yes.” His eyes bore into hers. Searching. Caring.
The connection between them was like a jolt of lightning. And she wanted nothing more than for him to take her into his arms––which made her glance down and then back up. Still there. Her stomach swirled. “We know how to go straight to the tough parts, don’t we?”
“That’s what good friends do.” He raised his eyebrows at her and stared.
Good friends. Why did that no longer seem like enough? Was he taking his own words to heart? Would he be able to love again one day?
Why did it matter so much to her? Did she want to open up her heart to Peter? As the thought took root, she swallowed. Hard.
Yes. She did. Already had, if she was honest. Did she love him?
“You really helped me, Whitney. Helped me to see that my losses weren’t about my failing the people I loved. I sat down and reasoned with myself. I’ve seen badly injured men who had no doctor to help them at all survive and come through just fine. Equally, I’ve seen men with teams of doctors die despite having so many learned men working to make them well. It isn’t about me and what I can or can’t do. It’s about accepting that in all things God has a plan and it is His will and way—not mine.”
His words went straight to Whitney’s heart. “Yes.” It seemed very clear now. “And even though we don’t like what’s happened or approve of it, we need to hold fast and maintain our trust in God Almighty. After all, what is the alternative?”
“Life without Him.”
They sat in silence, gazing into each other’s eyes. Words weren’t necessary to continue the discussion. And there was something so very right about it.
Peter pushed up to stand, breaking the connection. “I need to get back to town. I just wanted to check on everyone and make sure you had enough supplies.”
“Oh?” She stood with him.
“The other two doctors had symptoms of the sickness, and many in town are sick. I’m afraid we’ve got an epidemic on our hands.”
“I’m so sorry. Do you need my help?” As much as she wanted to stay with her family, she longed for him to say yes.
“You’re needed here to take care of your family. But I would greatly appreciate your prayers. I wish I could be here to help, but I know they’re in good hands.” He reached for her hands. “I’ll come back and check on everyone in a day or two.”
She clasped his, and they held on for several seconds.
“Take care of yourself.” The timbre of his voice was low. Intimate.
She didn’t want to release his hands. “You too. I’ll be praying for you.”
He let go and took a deep breath. “Well, I better be going.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
But after he put on his coat and hat and opened the door, they were greeted with the howl of the wind.
“Oh no! Another storm.”
He shook his head. “I still have to get back to town. Too many people need me.”
Whitney walked out and looked at the sky. At least she could still see the barn. Lord, please take care of him. “You better take the dogs and a sled. They’ll fare better in this weather than a horse.” She took the halter of the animal and headed to the barn. “Come on. You’ll need to hurry before this becomes an all-out blizzard.”
TWENTY-THREE
Judas paced his office.
There’d been no word on anyone from the farm in several days. He sure wasn’t going to risk going to the hospital to find out anything. Not with that horrible disease rampaging through the ranks of men. He’d sent his secretary several times, and that was good enough.
Better to put someone else’s life at risk rather than his own. He was too important to the town.
The ticking of the clock blended with his steps and began to get on his nerves.
