Grace put her arm around Mercy. “Conflict is never easy, but sometimes it’s best to face it and be done with it. When you see him next, you need to just come right out and tell him.”
“I will. I won’t like it, but I will.”
Hope led the horse to the pen. She had told her sisters the truth, at least, but now she needed to figure out how to tell the rest of the town.
The fact of the matter was that she was very much in love with Lance Kenner and wanted to be his wife. She’d never thought to have feelings like that after what Tomahas had done to her. Only months earlier, she’d wondered why others had been able to move ahead with their lives while she was stuck in the past. Now, however, the past was all but dead, and she wanted to move forward. She wanted to declare her love to Lance.
Then a thought came to mind and with it . . . fear. Lance didn’t know anything about Faith. Lance had always assured Hope that what happened at the massacre was not her fault and should never be held against her by any man. And she believed him. She believed he would never think her unacceptable because of that. However, she had given birth to a baby, and that was something entirely different.
There was no way of knowing how it might affect their relationship.
Hope already had most of their breakfast on the table when Grace made her way to the kitchen the next morning.
“I can’t say I have much of an appetite this morning,” Grace said, standing by the table. She looked down at the platters of food. “I’m not at all hungry.”
“I figured with the colder weather, we need to eat a hearty breakfast. I’m frying up eggs as well.”
“Well, none for me. I’ll stick with a piece of toast.”
“So long as you get proper nourishment,” Hope replied over her shoulder. “Go ahead and take a seat.”
Mercy came in with a pail of milk. “She didn’t give much this morning.” She put the pail on the counter.
“That’s all right. Get washed up, we’re ready to eat.” Hope picked up the cast-iron skillet. She put two fried eggs on Mercy’s plate, then two on her own.
When Mercy returned, Grace bowed her head and offered a blessing. “We thank You, Lord, for this meal and the hands that prepared it. I ask that You would be with Alex and Lance and bring them home quickly. I ask too that You would heal Alex completely and continue to grow this baby into a fine healthy child. Amen.”
“Amen,” her sisters replied in unison.
Hope began to dig in and Mercy followed suit, while Grace nibbled at the piece of buttered toast. They hadn’t been long at it when a loud pounding sounded on the front door.
Grace looked startled. “Goodness, who could that be at this hour? It’s only just after seven.”
“I’ll get it.” Hope put down her fork and jumped up from her chair.
She opened the door to find Jed Drury, their closest neighbor, on the other side, hat in hand. “Sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with Mrs. Armistead.”
Hope nodded. “Come on in. We were just sitting down to breakfast.” He followed her into the kitchen. “It’s Mr. Drury.”
Grace looked up and smiled. “Good morning. What can we do for you?”
The man’s brows knit together as his expression grew grave. “Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Armistead, but the kids have come down fearful sick. Sarah asked me to see if you might come take a look at them.”
“Of course.” Grace awkwardly maneuvered to her feet. “Let me collect my things. Hope, would you hitch the wagon for me?”
“I brought my wagon, ma’am. I can drive you.”
Grace nodded. “Let me get my bag.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Hope asked, following Grace into what she called her medicine room. It was a small, shelf-lined room just off the kitchen where Grace kept jugs of vinegar in various stages of development as well as the tonics and herbs she used for healing.
“I’ll be fine, Hope. They probably just have the measles or mumps. I’ve had both, so it’s not a problem.”
“But you haven’t had much to eat.”
Grace continued to shove things into her bag. “I’m not hungry. The baby’s put my stomach on edge this morning.” She smiled, as if reading Hope’s dislike of the situation. “Why don’t you put some ham and toast together and wrap it in a dishcloth, and I’ll eat it on the way over.”
Hope still didn’t like this. “But you’ve been awfully tired lately.”
“I slept very well last night. Now go. Nothing ails me that a few more weeks won’t cure. Once the baby is here, I’ll be fit as a fiddle.”
Hope returned to the kitchen and slapped a large piece of ham between two pieces of buttered toast. She wrapped the food as Grace had directed but couldn’t shake the feeling that her sister should remain at home. If Alex were here, he would no doubt forbid his very pregnant wife from risking her own health.
Grace came out of the medicine room, bag in hand.
Jed quickly took the bag from Grace and headed for the door. “We should hurry.”
Grace turned to Hope and Mercy. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but don’t worry. If I need to stay through the night, I’ll have Jed come let you know.”
“I don’t think that would be wise, Grace.” Hope frowned. “I’ll come over to check on you in a few hours.”
“I’ll come too,” Mercy declared.
Grace laughed. “You two have turned into a couple of mother hens. Go back to your breakfasts. I’ll see you soon.”
“Here’s your food,” Hope said, pushing the wrapped sandwich into Grace’s hands.
“Thank you. This is perfect.”
Hope watched as Mr. Drury helped Grace into the wagon and then took his seat. She felt a strange sense of dread settle over her and started to call out to her sister, but Jed had already slapped the reins, and the horses took off in a hurry.
“God, please keep her safe.”
Mercy and Hope busied themselves with routine work. Mercy took the sheep out to pasture. She was becoming a regular shepherdess, and it made Hope smile. Her spinning was coming along too. It blessed Hope to know she had something she could teach her younger sister.
Hope rolled out dough for beef pie. Between her worried thoughts about Grace, she contemplated how she would rectify the situation of her false engagement.
“I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. I was such a fool, and now when Lance returns, he’ll know just how stupid I’ve been.”
She glanced around the room, grateful that Mercy wasn’t there to hear her. But her sister’s absence did nothing to soothe Hope’s agitation. The truth was, she wished that what she’d said was true. She would very much like to be engaged to Lance. How strange that life had changed so much for her in the course of a few months. Since the massacre and even after the hanging, Hope had felt locked in a prison of her own making. Now, little by little, she was figuring things out. She knew that being afraid—feeling unsafe—was one of her biggest motivators, but she’d begun to pray about it. Last night she’d awoken many times, and prayer was the first thought that came to mind. She would overcome this so she could look forward to her future. So long as that future included Lance.
“But how do I let him know how I feel? I promised him I wasn’t looking for a husband.” She sighed. Maybe it was best to say nothing about her feelings. Maybe it was better to bury them deep and then have a good laugh together at the absurdity of her telling others they were engaged to be married.
The hours went by slowly, and when the sun began to set in the western skies, Hope decided enough was enough. Grace needed to be mindful of her own condition, and laboring over that sick brood of children wasn’t wise.
She pulled off her apron. “Mercy, I need you to watch the oven. The beef pie comes out in twenty minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get Grace.” Hope shook her head. “We should never have let her go.”
“I don’t suppose we could have stopped her,” Mercy replied. �
��She’s always done just as she likes.”
“Well, for once she can do what I like.”
Hope headed for the barn. A light drizzle dampened everything and made the coming night feel heavy. In the pen, the wagon horse stood head-to-head with Alex and Grace’s riding horses. The trio seemed unaware of the weather and looked as though they were conversing on something important.
She was about to open the gate when she heard the unmistakable sound of a wagon coming up the drive. Hope hurried to the front of the house just as Jed Drury drove up with Grace. She could see that Grace was exhausted.
Jed helped Grace from the wagon then climbed back up to take his seat. He handed down her bag. “Thank you for what you’ve done. I guess it’s in the Lord’s hands now.”
Grace nodded. “Don’t forget what I said. Keep them drinking fluids but don’t give them anything solid to eat. Use only boiled water, and add the medicines I gave you when the water is still hot. Wash everything thoroughly—especially your hands and . . .” She let the words trail off and swayed on her feet.
Hope wrapped a hand around Grace’s arm and took the bag from her. “I’m sure Mr. Drury can manage. Let’s get you inside before you fall down in the mud.” She pulled Grace along with her as Mr. Drury turned his team to head home. “I was just about to come after you. You must be exhausted. Did you have anything to eat?”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
Once they were in the house, Hope called for Mercy. “Put some water on for tea.”
“Is Grace all right?” Mercy asked, looking doubtful.
“I don’t know.” Hope looked at her older sister and saw the weariness in her eyes.
Grace shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just really tired.”
Hope led her to a chair and helped her sit. “Well, you’re going to do nothing but rest from now on. No more gallivanting off to heal the sick. There are town doctors for that.”
When Grace didn’t protest, Hope grew even more concerned. “What was wrong with the Drury children?”
Her sister looked up, her face ashen. She barely breathed the single word.
“Cholera.”
Chapter
21
Grace’s condition grew worse after her return from the Drurys’. Cholera was a deadly sickness, and Hope remembered only too well how it had struck the wagon train when she and her sisters were coming west. Fortunately, neither Hope nor her sisters had taken sick, but it had killed Grace’s husband, the Right Reverend Martindale.
“I don’t know what to do to help you.” Hope looked at Grace, who had been sick all night.
“You have to make me drink liquids. No food. The water must be boiled, and you must wash your hands in boiled water with lye soap every hour.”
Hope studied Grace’s pale complexion. She feared for the life of her sister and unborn baby. If they died, it would devastate everyone.
“I don’t understand how this happened.” Hope finished cleaning Grace up and washed her hands in the basin once again.
“I can’t be sure. The only thing we’ve done out of the ordinary was the church dinner.” Grace moaned and clutched her stomach. “It might be something I ate there. The Drurys were there too.”
“So were Mercy and I, but we’re not sick.”
Grace looked up with eyes that betrayed her misery. “You might not have eaten the same things we did. Grammy Marsh always said that some foods take on poisons from the air. Cholera steals away the body’s fluids and dries out the organs, so drinking is important—especially with the added herbs and salts.”
“I’ll get you more.” Hope quickly exited the bedroom.
She met Mercy in the hallway and could see she was just as worried as Hope. “She says we have to keep her drinking fluids, but she can’t eat anything. It would be too hard on her system.”
“Is she going to die?” Mercy asked, her gaze never leaving Hope’s face.
An overwhelming sense of dread had settled over the house, and Hope could only shake her head. “I don’t know. I think you should go to town and get Dr. McLoughlin or Dr. Barclay. I don’t trust myself to be able to do enough in this situation.”
Mercy nodded. “I’ll go right now.”
“Thank you.”
Hope went to the medicine room and gathered ingredients as Grace had directed. She added peppermint and chamomile to sugar and salt. Next she mixed these into boiling water and let it steep. A million thoughts raced through her mind as she stirred the concoction.
How had this happened? Had someone brought contaminated food to the church dinner? On the wagon train west, Grace had been meticulous with Hope and Mercy, making them drink only boiled water and take their daily doses of vinegar. Grace had also insisted they eat nothing but food they could be certain of.
Hope tried not to think about Alex and Lance coming home to find Grace gravely ill or dead. Poor Alex was already recovering from wounds, and Lance . . .
Only then did she remember the engagement issue. There was no time now to make things right. If others in Oregon City were sick with cholera, they wouldn’t be overly concerned with whether Hope and Lance were truly engaged anyway.
Making her way to Grace’s bedroom, Hope whispered a prayer for her sister’s recovery.
I feel so inadequate, Lord. Please guide me and heal her quickly.
Mercy didn’t return until nearly three hours later, and when she came, she came alone. Hope looked at her sister’s crestfallen expression and knew things weren’t good.
“There’s a lot of sickness in town, and Dr. Barclay is quarantining everybody until he can figure out what it is. He doesn’t know yet if it’s typhoid fever or cholera. I tried to get him or Dr. McLoughlin to come, but neither one could. Dr. Barclay said he had his hands full there, and Dr. McLoughlin was too ill, according to his wife. He doesn’t have the sickness, though.”
Hope bit her lip. What were they going to do without real medical help? Grace was accomplished in herbal remedies, but Hope had never felt called to that particular gifting. Grace also knew about the symptoms and dangers that accompanied each disease and disorder. Hope wouldn’t know what to watch for or even how to gauge if Grace was doing all right. And then there was the issue of whether it was typhoid fever or cholera. Were Grace’s remedies different for each? What if Hope was giving her the wrong things?
“We’ve got soiled bedsheets to wash. They have to be rinsed off first and then washed in lye soap and boiling water, then rinsed in boiling water. I need you to set a fire under the kettle outside and fill it with water. We have to get on top of this.”
Mercy nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” She headed for the back door then stopped and turned. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t get help.”
“It’s not your fault. With so many others sick, we can hardly expect the doctor to drop everything and come running. We’ll just do what we can.”
The expression on Mercy’s face told Hope that her words held little comfort. She wished she could say something to encourage her little sister, but frankly, Hope was in need of her own encouragement.
Reaching Grace’s bedroom, Hope noticed how pale and small Grace looked. She had always been so strong, always the one who got them through their illnesses and trials. What would happen if they lost her? The thought was too terrible to even consider.
Grace opened her eyes when Hope put a hand to her forehead, and Hope smiled with what she prayed was a look of reassurance. “How are you feeling?”
“No better.”
Hope sat on the bed. “I sent Mercy for a doctor, but no one can come. She did talk to Dr. Barclay, and he said he wasn’t sure if this was cholera or typhoid fever. Several people in town have taken ill with it.”
“It’s cholera. The Drury children had no rashes.” Grace closed her eyes. “My treatments would be similar anyway.”
“I’d feel better if we could have a doctor look at you. Maybe I should take you into town.”
“No. The doctors would
just bleed me and give me opium. I don’t want their help. It would be too dangerous for the baby.”
“All right.” Hope looked down at her sister, fearing she was making the wrong choice in agreeing with her.
The hours ticked by, and Hope continued her vigil. She forced liquids into the expectant mother every hour on the hour and then cleaned up the messes that followed. Grace tossed and turned in pain for a long time, then seemed to settle and grow less and less responsive. She had told Hope when she’d first fallen ill that there were four distinct stages of cholera, and this appeared to be the second stage, where the sickness was in full force.
Around noon, Mr. Drury came by to see if Grace could come to the house. One of his children had died in the night, and two of the others were near death. Hope informed him of Grace’s condition, and his shoulders slumped as he moved away without another word. He climbed back into his wagon and headed home. No doubt he felt just as discouraged and afraid as Hope.
When she wasn’t nursing Grace, Hope washed clothes and directed Mercy to keep boiling water as she cared for the animals. Once the laundry was washed, it was nearly nightfall, but because there was no rain, Hope told an exhausted Mercy to hang the clothes and bedding on the clothesline.
“I know you’re just as tired as I am, but I can’t leave Grace for much longer.”
“I don’t mind,” Mercy said, her lower lip quivering. “I’m just so scared.”
Hope pulled Mercy into her arms for a long hug. “I am too.”
Lance breathed a sigh of relief once they reached Fort Vancouver. They could be back in Oregon City within a day or two, depending on available transportation. Alex was feeling stronger, although Lance could see he tired easily after walking even a short distance.
“The fort looks busy. A lot of people coming and going.”
Alex nodded. “I see a friend of mine. Give me a minute to talk to him.”
He limped off in the direction of a tall, broad-shouldered man while Lance wondered who he should speak to in order to arrange a meal and a place to rest.
Beloved Hope (Heart of the Frontier Book #2) Page 21
