Five Sisters (49 page)

John nodded, still peering off into the distance towards the sight of the wheelchair, growing smaller and smaller as Gail pushed Nathaniel further into the hills and toward the far-off lake. John looked upward and gave a grim smile, "They shouldn't go out so far, you know.
Or not for so very long at least.
Surely Gail's spotted those clouds overhead. It's bound to rain at any moment."

Sara, too, watched as the storm headed towards them, dark clouds sitting above the countryside and the wind growing fierce, "They'll come back before then. It's too cold to stay out for too long or they'll both end up frozen. You don't think it'll snow though? It is December."

John shook his head, "Not yet. The temperature's been hovering around the freezing point all week but I doubt it's dipped below already. Give it another week or so."

"They'll be back soon," Sara repeated, watching their small figures fade further and further away, "They'll be back before the storm."

*****

But Nathaniel and Gail were too far engaged in the conversation and in nature that they hadn't glanced upward but once or twice. There were hills to climb and large beech trees to sit beneath, flowers to admire and birds that sang joyful little tunes. The few times they had looked to the sky, while Gail said it looked as though it may storm soon and they'd best be heading back, Nathaniel shook his head and said it was only a bit of dark clouds and he still wanted to see the lake.

They hadn't even made it to the lake, however, before a small drizzle began.

"Oh, I knew it would rain," Gail moaned, holding out her hand and watching as two lone drops hit it, "I knew we should have headed back sooner."

"It's no matter," Nathaniel said brightly, far too happy with arriving in Brighton to be downcast by a few drops of rain, "We'll simply head back now, see the lake tomorrow, and beat the storm back to the house."

Gail moaned again and slowly turned around the wheelchair, "But we'll never make it back before the storm hits."

"Nonsense!" shouted Nathaniel, "Hurry back now! We'll make it!"

Gail sighed but followed his instructions and began to walk faster and faster, pushing the wheelchair as quickly as she could but careful to avoid dips in the land and branches in their path.

But despite her efforts, the storm arrived before they were even halfway back towards the house. First there was a flash of light, as lightning could be seen in the distance, and there a large boom sounded as the thunder clashed overhead. And then, all at once, the downpour began. The rain came down so hard upon them that within moments both were completely soaked, from Gail's knit scarf down to Nathaniel's shiny new shoes.

"We have to get back!" Gail shouted above the pounding rain, "Why didn't I ever insist we go back sooner? Why did I listen to you? You'll become ill!"

"As will you."

"Nathaniel!"

Nathaniel shrugged, "I can't grow too much more ill than I already am!"

"You can die!"

"I welcome the thought!" Nathaniel laughed, holding out his weak and feeble hands and watching them fill with water.

"I told you we ought to have gone back earlier but you insisted and . . ."

"Don't worry," Nathaniel assured his fretful friend, "I can see the house from here. We'll be back in no time."

"I can't push any faster," Gail sighed, "My arms are far too tired."

"It's alright. We're already so wet we can't grow any wetter. What's there to fear? You don't honestly think we'll be hit by lightning, do you?"

"No, no," Gail shook her head, brushing tangled, wet hair from her eyes, "But it's freezing out here and we're soaked and we'll probably both become sick when we get back!
And just when you were feeling so well too!"

"A little cold is nothing," said Nathaniel, as he rolled along beside the side of the house, "I've been through far worse, I'm certain."

Gail began to run, her shoes covered in mud, "Almost there! Almost there!"

As soon as they'd reached the front steps Ethan and John came dashing out wearing their rain slickers and hats. While Gail ran up the front steps and into the warm house, the men lifted Nathaniel up the stairs and pushed him inside as well.

"Have a nice walk?" Ethan laughed, brushing the water from his eyes.

"Fine, fine," replied Nathaniel, wringing his newsboy cap upon his lap and watching with embarrassment as the rainwater covering himself and his wheelchair dripped upon the Lindsey's hardwood floors, "I'm sorry about all the water though. Is there somewhere I can go to dry off?"

John stepped beside Nathaniel again and pushed him to the right and into the parlor, where Gail was already shivering in a towel beside the fire.

Betsy rushed forward from the other room and handed another towel to Nathaniel.

"Oh I should have known better than to let you two go out when it was bound to rain," she said worriedly, "I've already got dinner on the stove, so once you're all dried off it should be time for supper. Stay by the fire until you're nice and warm though. I wouldn't want anyone getting sick.
Especially so soon after your arrival, Mr. West."

Nathaniel nodded, "Thank you, ma'am. I wouldn't want to keep you from your cooking though. We'll be fine if you want to head back."

"Oh, alright," Betsy nodded, "But if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

As soon as she'd left the room Gail turned to Nathaniel with a frown, "This is
all your
fault, you know," she murmured, "If you hadn't insisted that we go for a walk, this never would have happened. And if you'd only listened to me when I told you we ought to go back sooner, this never would have happened. So if you get sick, don't blame me."

"I won't blame anyone," said Nathaniel, "I promise."

Gail sighed again.

She'd already removed her own dripping coat and scarf and she helped Nathaniel out of his as well. She left to set them in the kitchen and upon returning went to stand before the fire with her towel still wrapped around her. She dabbed it to her face and hair, doing her best to pat her thick locks dry, before moving onto her skirt and trying to wring the bottom so that the rain dripped onto the towel. Nathaniel, too, was soaked to the bone. All his new garments, his shirt, his trousers, his tie, and his sweater, were sticking to his body and dripping onto the floor. He tried to dry himself as Gail was doing but his arms were weak and could barely be lifted. Nevertheless, he managed to pat the towel upon his trousers and sweater and dry them off just a bit.

"I should never have brought you here," Gail said suddenly, looking towards him with the fire's light flickering upon her dress and face.

"What are you talking about?" questioned Nathaniel.

"You'll only grow worse in the coming
days,
I'm sure," Gail sighed again, "Just as you always do. And I'm certainly not fit to care for you."

"You're doing fine. And besides, I can take care of myself."

A sparkle returning to her eyes, Gail replied, "I've never heard such a falsity in my life."

Grinning brightly, Gail took a seat upon Nathaniel's lap as though he
were
her a beloved older brother. One hand she placed on the edge of the wheelchair's armrest and the other held a towel that she began to use to dry the rain from Nathaniel's face. Gingerly, she dotted it along his cheeks, the wet locks of her hair dripping upon his sodden shirt.

Nathaniel watched her silently, barely moving. It was as if she was a wild dove and he was afraid that any sudden movement may scare her away. And when she sat near him so prettily, soaking wet and looking a mess but with eyes that sparkled and laughed, he wished she'd never leave. Although his arms were weak, his heart felt weaker. She'd run away with it, he knew.

Joining the pitter-patter of the rain upon the roof
came
another sound, the rolling of carriage wheels and the clomping of horses' hooves. Gail turned towards the window expectantly, her cheeks flushed and her hand lingering upon Nathaniel's shoulder. The shadow between their faces had diminished into nothing. Unconsciously, Gail moved her head to the right in search of the carriage and her cheek moved so close to Nathaniel it nearly grazed his lips. His heart was beating out of his chest now and he had a sudden, fierce desire to move forward only slightly, as if by accident, and place a kiss upon that damp cheek.

But before he could consider the thought further, Gail jumped out of his lap and ran to the window, placing her fingers upon the glass.

"It's Emy!" she shouted gleefully, "
It's
Emy and Brook! They're back!"

Leaving a trail of raindrops behind her, Gail rushed to the door and out on to the porch. The house was a flurry of shouting and laughter and rushing sisters as the last three St. James girls, Mary, Sara, and Nora, scampered in from other rooms of the house and joined Gail. They were followed shortly by Ethan, bounding down the stairs with half his shirt untucked and his cuffs unbuttoned, and Betsy, who scurried forward with her hands clasped together saying "Heavens! You'll break your neck, Ethan, if you don't slow down! But oh, dear me, I hadn't expected them back for another day! Their sheets are still in the washtub and I fear I haven't enough food for supper! Dear me!
Dear me!"
And after her came John, coming towards the door as quickly as his old, tired legs would carry him.

Hearing their joyful welcoming and cheery voices outside, Nathaniel felt oddly alone and he placed his hands upon the wheels of his wheelchair, anxious to join them. But his strength failed him. Try as he might, he hadn't the muscles to move the chair and he remained motionless. He bit his lip and kicked his legs against the chair but the struggle was futile. As the doctors had suspected it might, the medications rendered his arms so weak it was difficult for him to even move them to the wheels, much less propel the entire wheelchair to move. To feel so weak and helpless when a happy reunion, a reunion he so dearly wished to be a part of, was occurring only a few meters away was a sorrow he couldn't describe.

Listening to their elated shouts and greetings, Nathaniel felt his heart drop and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, feeling alone once more.

With only two weeks left until Christmas, the Lindsey family and all their guests were busy preparing for the holidays.

The happy couple, Ethan and Mary, carried boughs of evergreen garland and wreaths adorned with large red bows around the house. They were hung upon each door and each window, bits of pine needles scattering behind Ethan and Mary as they headed through the various hallways and rooms. It was a simple job, certainly, but it took them far longer than it ought to
of
. This can be understood, however, when one observed how often their task was interrupted by giggles and embraces and chaste kisses beneath the mistletoe.

Betsy and Nora stood before the kitchen counter once more, their aprons, faces, and hair covered in flour and sugar. As they baked trays and trays of delicious cookies, the two women gossiped and laughed as if they'd known each other forever. At the moment they were working on a tray of gingerbread men, decorating their faces with creamy white icing.