by Jan Watson
After heating water, Copper filled a washbasin and bathed. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair, coiled it at the back of her head and fastened it with tortoiseshell combs. She must remember to give Alice back the pearl ones she’d lent her. Copper put on one of her prettier day dresses, then filled the kettle again and made preparations to bathe Remy.
With one palm she touched Remy’s forehead, still warm but not as hot as earlier. A bath should help. The temperature rise could as easily be from blood loss as from infection. Washing Remy was like bathing a child—she was so slight she barely made a dent in the mattress.
At least this time she put up no fuss. Her eyes were half-open but so cloudy Copper wasn’t sure she could see. Copper found herself singing lullabies and making soothing motherly sounds as she rubbed Remy’s arms and one good leg with the soapy flannel cloth. Her heart might be broken, but still she was glad to have Remy back. “Once you were lost,” she said as Remy blinked back to sleep, “but now you are found.”
Finished, Copper took the bathwater outside and scoured the porch with it. She shouldn’t be doing such tasks on Sunday morning, but she couldn’t stand still. If she didn’t stay busy, she’d unravel like a poorly knit sweater. From down the creek, she heard someone working. It sounded like a sledgehammer meeting rock. She knew it was John. It appeared she wasn’t the only one with an ox in the ditch this morning. Lord, forgive us.
Back in the kitchen, Copper busied herself making broth for Remy. Once the chicken was stewed and the broth strained, she took it to the bedside. Slipping one arm behind Remy, she lifted her head and shoulders. Remy didn’t open her mouth.
“Please try a bit of soup,” Copper said. “You have to have some nourishment or else you’ll never heal.”
Like a baby bird Remy opened wide. Copper dribbled broth with a dropper and Remy swallowed.
Copper was overjoyed. “That’s so good. Just a little more.”
After no more than a couple of tablespoons, Remy turned her face away.
“All right.” Copper held an invalid straw to Remy’s mouth. “Just one sip of water and I’ll leave you be.”
Remy gripped Copper’s wrist with surprising strength. “I’m sorry, Purty,” she gasped. “I ruint your special day.”
“Oh, my friend, don’t you know how glad I am to have you here?”
Remy didn’t answer. She seemed too puny to try.
“Do you remember the Scripture we shared, Remy? The one I said was just for us? Let me find my Bible, and I’ll read it to you.”
The Bible was in the kitchen on the washstand, tied round with a green silk ribbon to match her wedding dress. She’d left it there yesterday so she wouldn’t forget to take it to the church. With trembling hands she discarded the ribbon and carried her Bible to the bedroom.
Pulling a chair near the bed, Copper sat and thumbed the gilt-edged pages. “I know it’s in Proverbs. You’ll remember when you hear it.” Leaning forward, she smoothed Remy’s tangled hair from her forehead. “Are you awake?”
Remy nodded. “Read it to me,” she whispered.
“Let’s see. Proverbs 17:17: ‘A friend loveth at all times.’ No that’s not the one. . . . Oh, here it is. Chapter 18, verse 24: ‘A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.’ Remember that day by the creek—it seems so long ago now—when we declared we would always be sisters?”
Remy lay as still as death, her eyes closed, her blue-rimmed lips the only color to her face.
Copper put two fingers to the side of Remy’s throat, searching for a heartbeat. Nothing, then a tiny flutter. “Remy, please don’t leave me!”
“Can ye hear the falls, Purty? See the angel wings in the water spray?” Remy’s voice was soft and sweet, childlike.
Copper had closed the window to the sickroom, but from the corner of her eye she fancied she saw the curtains stir. Dread raked icy fingers up her spine. Why had she sent everyone to the wedding? Why had she stayed home alone? She clutched her Bible to her chest. “Oh, Lord,” she pleaded prayerfully. “Please. Please. Please.”
On down Troublesome, John was doing the only thing he knew to do. Each whack with sledgehammer on rock caused a grunt of satisfaction. Each slam of pickax to rock crevice lessened his anger. And who was he mad at exactly? Copper for standing firm on her convictions? Or that poor wretch, Remy Riddle, who deserved life every bit as much as he deserved his one true love? Or maybe God? It seemed too close to blasphemy for him to toy with that. Guess he’d have to be mad at himself.
“Fool!” he cursed every time he swung. “How could I have been so stupid?”
The mule hitched to the sled cowered in its harness. Faithful dropped her ears and tucked her tail. His anger had such power that he was surprised the creek didn’t run backward. Sweat ran down his back and dripped off his forehead. His daddy always said hard work never killed anyone. Too bad, he thought.
John stopped and wiped his face on his shirtsleeve, then took a long draft of water from the Mason jar. Pouring a little in his cupped palm, he offered it to Faithful. She lapped a drop or two as if afraid to deny him. He sat down on the creek bank and settled back on his elbows. “Sorry, girl.”
“Woof.” He knew Faithful meant, “You’re not the only one with problems.”
He slid her silky ears through his fingers. “You’re right as usual. Let’s get this rock hauled to the new house. If we get enough, I can start on the chimney.”
“Remy! Remy!” Copper shook Remy’s shoulders until her eyes rolled back and forth like marbles. Everything Copper knew about medicine fled her brain. She was powerless in the face of death. Jumping up, she ran to the kitchen door. Surely there was someone about. Help me, Lord, she prayed. I can’t do this alone.
She could just make out John’s old mule harnessed to a sled, poking along across the creek. “John!” she screamed, running pell-mell across the yard, waving her arms like a crazy woman.
He looked her way, and then he was running too. As soon as she knew he saw, she sprinted back to the house.
He caught up with her in the kitchen. “What?”
Copper clutched the front of his blue work shirt in both hands. “Remy. Help her.”
She could tell by his eyes when he saw Remy that he didn’t hold any hope. “Maybe she choked. Let’s turn her on her side.”
“But she was talking. . . . I don’t think . . .”
“Won’t hurt to try.”
John held the splinted limb steady, while Copper slid one arm under Remy’s shoulders and one under her hips. Gingerly, they moved her.
Remy coughed and moaned. Mucus streaked with rust-colored blood spilled from her mouth.
Once again, Copper sought the beat of Remy’s heart. Weak and thready, it tapped against her fingertips. Fumbling for the stethoscope she’d left on the bed, Copper stuck the tips in her ears and listened to Remy’s lungs. “Full. Sounds like pneumonia.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have let her lay flat so long. I know better.”
John’s face was as white as Remy’s. “I thought she was gone for sure.”
“Just a minute.” Copper ran through the house grabbing every pillow she could find. She packed them all around Remy, fixing her position. “She’ll have to be turned every two hours regardless of what it does to her leg.” She looked at her patient and sighed. “I focused on one thing and nearly let her die of another.”
“What do we do now?” he asked.
“I need a minute to study up on pneumonia. My brain’s so foggy I can’t think straight.”
Suddenly, her knees buckled. If John hadn’t caught her, she would have collapsed.
“When did you last eat?”
“I don’t rightly remember,” Copper said, leaning against him. “Yesterday noon, I think.”
He helped her to the chair by the bedside. “Don’t move. I’ll go fix you something.”
“But Remy . . .”
“You ain’t no good t
o Remy if you’re passed out on the floor,” John said, a stern note to his voice. “You can rest and still watch her.” He took a pillow that had fallen to the floor and tucked it behind Copper’s shoulders, then lifted her feet and rested them on the side of the bed. “There, now. I’ll just be in the next room.”
“Would you please bring me Dr. Chase’s Medical Receipt Book from the top of the bookcase first? I’ll study while I sit.”
The saucer of chicken and biscuit he brought her was the best thing she’d ever tasted. And the strong, sweet tea restored her strength. “Thank you,” she said when she finished. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been across the creek, John.”
“You’d have figured something out.” He glanced at Remy. “She sure looks pitiful.”
“She’s breathing much better, though.” Copper handed him her plate and picked up her book. “Dr. Chase has many remedies in here. I’ve got to settle on what I want to try with Remy.”
“I’m going to get the mule out of his harness,” John said, “but I won’t go far.”
It was a sad day when Mam and Daddy went home. They’d stayed a week past their original plans, yet Copper wasn’t ready to see them go. On the morning of their leave-taking, she put on a brave face and hid her tears behind a smile. Trunks and hatboxes piled up on the porch before being transferred to the hired carriage that would take them to the nearest train station.
Mam and Lilly were in tears. “Don’t go, Granny.” Lilly wrapped her arms around Mam’s knees. “Don’t leave Lilly Gray.”
Daddy and the boys were waiting in the carriage. Copper knew Daddy couldn’t stand to see Lilly’s tears. Mam cast a pleading look Copper’s way, so she extricated Lilly and gave her stepmother one last buss on the cheek.
“Come back soon,” Copper called as the buggy bumped across the rutted barnyard.
Lilly bawled and drummed her feet against Copper’s legs. For once, she was thankful for Lilly’s tantrum. It hid her own sorrow and fear.
“Let me take her,” Alice said. “Lilly Gray,” she soothed as Copper gratefully handed her over, “let’s take a walk with Dodie.”
“Do you want to take a walk with Alice and the girls?” Copper asked Darcy through the screen door.
“I don’t think so. I’m making pies for supper tonight. Do you think Mr. John might be coming? He dearly loves my apple pie.”
Copper went in and picked up the paring knife. “Probably not, but then again he might since the newlyweds will be here.” A perfect, unbroken peel of apple joined with Darcy’s in a yellowware bowl. Two unbaked pie shells in fluted pie tins waited to be filled.
“If you’re going to pare the apples,” Darcy said, “then I’ll make my lattice for the tops.”
Copper peeled and sliced while Darcy dusted the rolling pin with flour. “You make that look so easy,” Copper said as Darcy cut strips of dough from two circles of pastry.
“Easy as pie,” Darcy said and laughed. “Don’t the house seem too quiet?”
“Sure does. I miss my folks already.”
“I won’t mind getting my bed back though.” Darcy laced lattice strips across the top of one pie, then sealed the edge with a fork dipped in flour.
Copper had loved having the house jam-packed. Once Dimmert and Cara were wed, they took over John’s house, so Copper’s folks stayed with her. Daddy and the boys slept on the short-legged bed in the loft, while Mam took one bed in Darcy’s room. Alice had the other. Darcy and Dodie slept on pallets on the floor in front of the fireplace. Lilly had her crib, and Copper fashioned a bed of sorts from four straight-backed chairs pushed together. Remy, of course, had Copper’s bed.
She didn’t know where John slept. That wasn’t hers to ask. She’d hardly seen him since the Sunday morning he helped her with Remy. He was keeping his distance and rightfully so.
Darcy slid the pies in the oven. “I’ll save these scraps of dough for the girls to play with.”
“Do you have time to help me with Remy?” Copper asked. “I need to bathe her and change the bed linens.”
“I’ll just wipe off the table first,” Darcy said. “Then I’ll be there.”
Copper took a stack of sheets, pillowcases, and towels from the press and laid them at the foot of the bed. “Look, Remy. These pillow slips have daisies and bluebirds embroidered on them. Aren’t they pretty?”
“Does she ever answer you?” Darcy said as she set a pan of water on the bedside table.
“She hasn’t said the first word since that day she choked,” Copper said. “But I know she hears me. It’s important to talk to her.”
“Then I’ll tell her about baking pies.” Darcy prattled on in a comforting way as they bathed and powdered Remy, braided her hair, and cleaned her teeth with the end of a washrag dipped in baking soda and salt.
“Funny she can swallow,” Darcy said. “You’d think if she knows that, she’d know how to talk, poor thing.”
Copper rolled Remy’s body to one side of the bed while Darcy undid the sheets on the other side. “I miss the sound of her voice. Remy and I used to talk about everything.”
Darcy rolled Remy her way as Copper removed the soiled linen from her side of the bed. “It will be fun to see Dimmert and Cara tonight.”
“Yes, it will,” Copper said, tucking the end of a sheet under the mattress. “I’m so happy for them.”
Darcy held a pillow under her chin and slid a clean case over it. When the bed was finished, they propped Remy’s head and shoulders up on her clean pillows. Copper held the invalid straw to Remy’s mouth, and she took a sip. It reminded Copper of feeding an elderly patient of Simon’s who had had a stroke. That woman remained bedfast the rest of her days.
“I’m going to take a scrub board to these bedsheets, Miz Copper. Else we’ll never get done washing come Monday.”
Alice wanted to set the table with Copper’s good china and silver. She insisted on ironed linens, so Copper spent the afternoon heating the sadiron and pressing a tablecloth and nearly a dozen napkins. The table looks pretty, Copper thought as she laid the last napkin in place. And it was a nice way to honor the newlyweds, plus the Fosters were coming and bringing Hezzy with them.
Copper hoped she didn’t fall asleep over her supper plate. What with the cooking, the ironing, seeing to Remy, and keeping Lilly Gray out of trouble, she was exhausted. She took a clean dress from the chiffonier, then sat at her dressing table to arrange her hair. All the while she could see Remy’s reflection in the mirror. Pulling a brush through her tangled red locks, she pondered Remy’s situation. Copper longed for just one word from her friend, just a sign that she was doing the right thing for Remy.
Mam would say, “‘A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign.’” Mam knew her Bible. She would also say “Where there is life there is hope.” Though that wasn’t from the Bible, it was true. Look how good Daddy was doing. He’d been very ill when they moved to Philadelphia, and now he was much better. Of course he’d had to give up his pipe, and he couldn’t work in the mines anymore. He said it was a small price to pay.
Copper laid the brush aside, then buried her face in her hands. Give me strength for the journey, Lord, she prayed. Seeing her own pale face in the mirror, she pinched her cheeks until they were rosy. “Oh, Remy, I don’t know who looks worse, you or me.”
“I brought some daffodils for the sickroom,” Alice said, interrupting Copper’s reverie. Marching in, she put the pretty yellow blooms in a china vase.
Copper pulled a flower from the bunch and held it to Remy’s nose. “Doesn’t this smell good? Don’t daffodils make you think of spring?”
Remy twitched her nose, but she didn’t open her eyes or utter a word.
“There’s only one thing to do, Laura Grace,” Alice said.
Copper put the flower on Remy’s pillow, next to her nose. “About what?”
Alice swept her arms wide. “This situation of course.”
“Let’s talk on the porch. W
e should have a few minutes before everyone gets here.”
They settled side by side in the rocking chairs. Copper folded her hands in her lap and waited, sure she wouldn’t like what was coming.
“I’m not one to interfere. . . .”
Had those words really come from Alice’s mouth? Just listen, Copper thought. Listen and don’t judge.
“But it’s obvious this is too much for you,” Alice continued. “I propose to take Lilly Gray home with me for a few weeks to help you out.”
Copper clinched her lips. Is this why Alice came after all? Not to see Copper happily wed but to find a reason to take her daughter away from her? Anger as hot as pepper burned her innards. “Thank you for your concern.” She minded her words. “But that can never be. Lilly Gray belongs with her mother.”
“Now don’t get miffed. I’m only trying to help. Surely you will admit you have too much on your plate to care for Lilly properly.”
“Alice, this is really none of your business.” There, she’d done it—said what she’d wanted to say since the first day she’d met Alice Upchurch.
“Ah, but you’re wrong, my dear,” Alice said. “Lilly Gray is very much my business.”
Copper sighed. How could you argue with a woman who was never wrong? “I’m sorry. Of course she is, and I’m thankful for that, but she won’t be going home with you.”
“Then tell me how you will do all this alone: the garden, the animals, this inconvenient house . . . not to mention all these people you collect. . . .” Alice fixed her with a familiar steely glare. “How do you propose to do all this and take proper care of my niece?”
For a moment Copper didn’t know what to say. How was she going to cope? She was so weary she had to fight the tears that threatened. The last thing she needed was to show Alice her weakness.
Then there they were: her answers. As if on command, the Fosters’ buggy drew up. Hezzy Krill leaned out the open window, and Dimmert and Cara walked around the side of the barn.
