Brides of Ohio (13 page)

“Actually you do,” he replied thoughtfully. “She was a lot like Aunt Mary.” He leaned forward against the back of the chair. “Just how did you meet Aunt Mary and Uncle John? We’ve talked quite a bit but never about that.”

“No, we haven’t.” She looked toward the house, wishing Mary would come out. She had shooed Katherine out of the house, insisting on cleaning up the lunch dishes herself as her ankle was doing much better. But Katherine knew her friend’s true motive.
Doesn’t she see I haven’t a chance with him?

Realizing she couldn’t avoid
all
conversation with him, she proceeded to tell Daniel about how she had met Mary and how they had corresponded while she was at school. “She became sort of a mother to me,” she said softly.

“What about your aunt?”

“Oh, she was of the same opinion as my father. ‘Get the drab little thing married off as quick as we can,’ she’d say.”

“Drab little thing? That hardly describes you.”

Katherine flushed at the glint in Daniel’s eyes. “Anyway, John and Mary were very good to me.”

“And Thomas?”

Katherine noticed the slight tension in his voice. “We exchanged letters as well. But nothing ever happened between us.”

“You told me you cared for him.”

“I did. But …” She looked away miserably. “I managed to ruin any chance I had with him. After everything that happened with Chloe, my father made me personally break off our acquaintance. I’m afraid I was quite flippant with him.” She’d had to be. Or face her father’s whip.

She felt Daniel take her hand, and of their own volition, her eyes found his.

He looked at her intently. “Katherine, stop taking the blame for things completely out of your control.” His eyes made her feel faint. “If I knew my cousin, he understood.”

On Tuesday morning, Katherine looked out the kitchen window for the hundredth time.

Mary looked up from the ironing. “Is he coming yet?”

“No, not yet.”

Jacob had not shown up at the farm yesterday morning, and when he hadn’t come again this morning, Daniel had decided to take the wagon and find out what was going on. It was almost lunch, and he still hadn’t returned.

Katherine turned from the window to look at Mary. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

The older woman gave her a look of reproach. “No. Don’t think that.”

“I can’t help but think about why she wasn’t at services on Sunday.”

“She could have been under the weather.”

As Katherine returned to sprinkling items for Mary to iron, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss about the whole situation with Mill Creek Church. In spite of how people had treated her, she had enjoyed worshipping there. The songs they sang were rich and faithful and sung with such feeling. And in spite of her initial misgivings, Reverend Warren was a gifted preacher. So it had been hard for her to stand her ground when both Daniel and Mary had tried to convince her to go with them Sunday. But she had promised and didn’t want to cause trouble.

In fact, she was still toying with the idea of leaving altogether. It would be easier for them to move on as the reverend had asked them, wouldn’t it?

Lord, I felt Your hand in my decision to come here, but now, more than ever, I can’t understand why. It makes much more sense to leave these people in peace.

Dipping her hand into a bowl of water, she sprinkled one of Daniel’s shirts—the white one he wore with his uniform. Her heart pounded and her hands shook as that dashing image of him rose in her mind.

She clenched her teeth in frustration.
Please, Father, I need to leave before I lose my heart even more to this man
, she begged. She sighed at the answer in her heart. There was nothing else to do but trust Him. Even if it meant having her heart broken.

As she rolled up the shirt, she began to form a new yet truthful excuse that would allow her to go to bed early that night. Happily, Simon Peter and his sons would be here. If Daniel got to talking to them first, he wouldn’t notice if she slipped out early.

Mary laid her iron back on the hot cookstove and carefully folded the dress she’d been working on. “We’d best clear up in here and get lunch started,” she said with a sigh. “Simon Peter and the boys will be in soon.”

Katherine began to gather up the rest of the clothes when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked through the window to see Scioto tearing down the road with the wagon, Daniel leaning forward in the seat urging him on. As they swept by, her heart nearly stopped at what she thought were two bodies lying in the bed of the wagon, but it went by too fast for her to be sure.

By the time she and Mary made it to the front door, Daniel was out of the wagon, yelling for them and Simon Peter.

Katherine raced to the wagon as Daniel lowered the bed door. “Oh no!” she gasped. Adele and Jacob lay in the bed on quilts, pale and still.

Daniel climbed in and laid a hand on the young boy’s forehead before swinging him up into his arms. He looked around wildly. “Where’s Simon Peter?”

Before she could answer, he was there. One look and he took the boy from Daniel. Jacob looked like a rag doll in the large man’s arms. Aaron and Michael ran up, and Aaron, who was built more like his father, took Adele. Katherine heard Mary tell them where to take them, but her eyes were fastened on Daniel, who watched them being taken inside.

“This is my fault,” he said raggedly.

“How could it …?”

“If Nate had been here, none of this would have happened.”

“Daniel, you don’t know that.”

“Go see what you can do. God have mercy on me if something should happen to them.” He sank down against the wagon’s side wall and put his head in his hands.

Katherine picked up her skirts and raced into the house and up the stairs.

The door to Jonah’s room was shut, and Simon Peter and his sons filled the small hallway. She could see by the looks on their faces that they wanted to be doing something other than just standing around.

“Can you go see to Daniel?” she asked softly. “I’m afraid he’s in quite a state.”

Simon Peter nodded, and he and the boys immediately walked downstairs.

Opening the door to Jonah’s room, she walked in to find Toby’s old trundle bed had been pulled out. Mary knelt next to it tending to Jacob while Adele lay quiet and still on Jonah’s bed. Katherine gasped at the sight of the boy’s hand, the same one she had bandaged up only a few days ago. It was quite swollen and a violent shade of red. Worse still, the swelling was beginning to spread to his wrist.

Mary looked up. “Katherine, before you even think it, it’s not your fault,” she stated firmly. “He’s been helping with the planting for the past couple of days. Boys being boys, it’s had plenty of chances to get infected.”

Katherine looked over at Adele and started. “Mary, she looks half-starved!”

“I know,” the older woman replied grimly. “I loosened her stays, but there’s barely anything there to cinch in.”

Katherine sank down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Adele’s forehead. “She hasn’t any fever.”

“No, but Jacob’s burning up.” The older woman rose. “Stay with them.” She left, and Katherine knew she was headed for the section of the pantry that held Dorothy Kirby’s collection of dried flowers and herbs.

When Mary sprained her ankle, she had instructed Katherine on how to use them to treat her injury. “My mother,” she’d said, “learned a thing or two from the Indians before they were forced to move west. She passed on what she knew to Dolly and me.”

But as Katherine now looked helplessly at Jacob’s swollen hand and flushed face, she wondered how a few shriveled leaves could possibly help now. A prayer formed in her mind and she closed her eyes. They opened the very next instant, however, as she heard Adele mutter and stir.

“Mein lieber, Junge!
Jacob!” Her eyes opened and she looked around blearily. “Where is he?”

“Shh, Mrs. Stephens,” Katherine said softly. She hoped the woman was too delirious to know who she was. “He’s here. Mary’s going to take right good care of him.”

To her relief, Adele seemed to calm down and slipped back into unconsciousness.

Katherine resumed her prayer and did not cease until Mary returned with a steaming mug.

“I have Daniel digging up one of Dolly’s coneflowers,” she said. “The roots she had were too old to use. Come here and help me sit him up.”

“What’s that?”

“This is tea brewed from dogwood bark. The Delaware Indians use this to control fever.”

They sat Jacob up and managed to get a few sips down his throat.

“There,” Mary said once they had settled the shivering boy back beneath the quilt. “I’ll use the coneflower root to make a poultice. It’ll help draw out the infection.” She placed her hand on Katherine’s and smiled. “And you’ve already been about the most important step, prayer.”

“What about Adele?”

Mary pursed her lips slightly. “Prayer as well, along with a little food and a generous dose of common sense.”

The sound of boot steps downstairs in the hall told them Daniel had finished his task. They went down and found him sitting in the parlor.

Mary nudged Katherine in his direction while she went to the kitchen.

He stood up as she stepped in the room. “Aunt Mary said it isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“She told me the root you dug up will help.”

He nodded. “Ma used coneflower a lot.” He ran a hand through his hair. The guilty look from earlier began to creep back into his face.

“This isn’t your fault, Daniel,” Katherine said firmly.

“Nate should be here,” he snapped. “And so should Jonah. And Toby. And Ma.” Katherine watched as he began to pace the room. “Why should I keep going on like this? I have what I’ve always wanted waiting for me at Ohio Wesleyan. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t sell out and be done with it?”

“‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart,”’ she quoted tremulously, “and lean not unto thine own understanding.”’

Daniel stopped his pacing and stared at her before walking over and pulling her into his arms. He buried his head in her small shoulder, and she found herself standing on tiptoe to return the embrace. Her fingers brushed his silky hair, and she marveled at how right it felt to be in his arms.

Don’t fool yourself. He’s hurting right now. Nothing more.

After a moment or two, he lifted his head but didn’t release her. Instead, he looked deeply into her eyes. “Did you finish that book of Wordsworth’s poems?”

She nodded, too worked up over the way he was looking at her to speak.

“Discuss it with me tonight. Don’t run off so soon after dinner.” He must have read the hesitancy in her face, for he pressed her further. “Please. If I can’t teach, at least there’s that.”

She nodded and stepped away from him. “I better see if Mary needs me.”

She turned and headed toward the kitchen, a hand over her wildly pounding heart. A part of her was beginning to believe what she had thought to be quite impossible.

M
ary and Katherine took turns seeing to Adele and her son. By the next morning, Adele was awake and lucid, and Katherine told Mary it might be best if she helped her with the simple broth they had been feeding her.
The poor woman has enough to deal with. She doesn’t need the likes of me around
, she thought as she settled down with the mending in the dining room.

She was surprised when Mary came back down the stairs a moment or two after going up to see to the young widow.

“What is it? Is it Jacob?” she asked.

Mary shook her head. “No, but I need to make up a new poultice for him.” She laid a gentle hand on Katherine’s cheek. “Adele wants to see you.”

Katherine’s eyes widened, and she looked at the stairs and then back to her friend.

Mary patted her shoulder. “Go on up. She’s waiting.”

Leaden weights seemed to replace Katherine’s feet as she walked up the stairs. She reached the door of Jonah’s room and peered in.

Adele was propped up in bed, her thin hands holding the mug of broth Mary had brought her. It sat in her lap half lost in the folds of the light quilt covering her. She was staring down at her son, who lay in the little trundle bed next to her. They had managed to bring his fever down a little, but his hand was still red and swollen.

Tears pricked at Katherine’s eyes as she saw the worried look on Adele’s face. She slowly walked into the room, and the young widow immediately turned her head toward her. Katherine attempted a weak smile as she sank down in the chair next to her bed. “Good morning, Mrs. Stephens,” she said and inwardly winced at the sound of her own voice and how much it must distress the poor woman.

“My son, how is he?” she asked, her weak voice revealing her German heritage.

“His fever is down a little. Mary is making up a new poultice.” She wondered why Adele had called her up merely to ask what Mary could very well have answered.

“I tried all I knew. But he became so sick.” She lifted the mug she held to her lips, but her hands shook, and Katherine immediately steadied it as she took a sip. She let Katherine take it from her and leaned back against the pillows. “How did we get here?”