Leah, still shaking from nerves, managed a nod, but wasn’t ready to talk yet.
“Well, you two look to have had a long walk. Would you care for a ride? It might be a bit rough, though. It would be better if we had straw to cushion the bumps, but by using his wagon, we can be at Evie’s in a couple hours. It would take a lot longer if you walked.” Julian noticed that James was clutching the post with one hand, the other around his wife for additional support, and frowned. “That is, if you could even make it. You look a little worse for wear. Can you get into the back of the wagon by yourself, or would you like help?”
Leah helped James to the rear of the wagon, then stood back. He leaned over at the waist and pulled himself in, crawling and crabbing his way to the shade of the single plank driver’s seat. He rolled over, then lay his head back in exhaustion. “This is good for me,” he panted, both proud and happy that he had made the transition unassisted.
“Would you like to ride in front with me or in the back with your husband?” Julian asked, offering his hand to help her onto the bench seat, never taking his eyes from her face. “I’m sorry for staring. It’s just the family resemblance is so striking. And that dress… It looks just like the one she was wearing when…when she left last month.”
Leah ignored the last part of his observation, but did answer his question. “I’ll ride in back, but do you happen to have anything to eat? As you noticed, it’s been a long walk, and we’re not used to the heat.”
“Excuse my bad manners. I just happen to have a small lunch. I was sent to town to purchase some salt and sugar, but it appears that Mr. Gibson has left for the day. I’ll need to make a stop at the Donaldson’s before returning to the Pomeroy homestead. Hopefully, I can borrow those items from them. You see, Evie’s father-in-law, Jody Pomeroy, was severely injured. Sarah—his wife, who happens to be a healer—said she needed the salt and sugar to make a type of tonic.”
“Electrolyte solution,” Leah said. “Tell me, did Jody lose a lot of blood?”
“Yes,” Julian said, but didn’t elaborate. He reached into his knapsack and pulled out a bundle and a bottle. “Here is some very fine ale and a sort of sandwich.”
Leah yanked the plug out of the ale, took a pull from it, and then offered the drink to James. “Not too much at once now,” she warned, then took back the bottle. She unwrapped the cloth covering on the sandwich. “Hey, a burrito! Here, have some,” and offered it to James first.
He sniffed it. “Oh, wow! Manna from heaven,” then savored a big bite of the tortilla-wrapped ham and cheese sandwich. He handed it back to Leah who took a double-sized bite herself.
She used the chewing time to figure out how much she should say to the man she recognized as Lord Julian Hart. His likeness to the portrait wasn’t exact, but was close enough, taking into account the shocked look on the man’s face when James had asked him his name. Yes, she was sure that the man hitching his horse to the back of the wagon was her new grandfather.
The fluids and quick calories cleared Leah’s head. Now she knew what to say. “Before we take off, Julian, I want you to know that we don’t need to make a stop anywhere. I have everything we need here.” She patted her bag. “Don’t worry about our comfort, either. Just go as fast as the horse will take us. There’ll be time to take our ease after we see to Jody’s needs.”
“But…but,” Julian stammered, “Sarah was specific about her need for the salt and sugar.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was, but she didn’t expect me to come today, now, did she? Trust me, please?”
“You’d be wise to trust her, Julian,” James said. “And please hurry. I have a lot to ask you when we get settled.”
“Speaking of settled,” Julian said, “if you’re settled in and ready, we’ll see how fast Mr. Short’s horse can pull this wagon.”
“Wagons! Ho!” Leah shouted. Julian turned around and looked at her as if she were crazy. “Uh, we’re ready,” she amended meekly, realizing that she probably did appear crazy. She scooted down next to James, and held him close.
They were on their way home—to her mother.
Finally.
***58 A New Donor
Jenny’s squeals and hollering alerted Wallace that company was coming. He set down the hoe next to the baskets filled with peppers and tomatoes at the garden gate. He could see Papa—Julian—driving someone else’s wagon in at a fast clip. He was in a hurry about something. Hopefully it wasn’t more bad news.
ӁӁӁ
Everyone in the family had been stressed for the last two days. It didn’t appear that Father—Jody—was going to live until nightfall. The gash to the femoral artery hadn’t killed him, but he had lost so much blood that his heartbeat was erratic.
Sarah had done everything she could. “I feel so helpless. All he needs is one, maybe two units of blood, then his heart would beat normally again. As it is now, he’s running on almost empty. His major organs are failing. It’s just a matter of time,” she said, and bit her bottom lip, the sadness in her face saying what her words could not.
She looked around at everything in the room. The rustic lifestyle never bothered her before. But now, everything was irritating her. Her mood changed quickly from desperation to anger to rage. “What did we do to deserve this? We were just trying to give people a chance at freedom. We never fought from a sense of greed or hate. We only wanted to help make a country where we were free to rule ourselves. And now look. He’s dying and there’s not a…a blasted thing we can do about it!”
“There is something we can do,” I said. “‘When two or more are gathered in My name, I’ll be there’ the Lord said. I know we’ve all been praying—at least, I know I sure have—but let’s all hold hands and pray together. I do believe in miracles, and all we have to do is ask for one.”
“All we have to do?” Sarah screamed. “You act as if…” Sarah felt Jody’s hand on her thigh. He didn’t have the strength to speak, at least loud enough to be heard. He barely had enough energy to open his eyes, but managed a flutter, ending his tacit communication by squeezing his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to die. Maybe she should see if the group prayer would work.
“I’ll go get Wallace,” I said. “I want everyone—including Jenny and the babies—here for this.” I was determined that I wouldn’t disappoint her or Jody. This was going to work!
I rushed outside and saw Wallace tending to a strange horse and wagon—at least, I had never seen them before. As he moved aside, I saw that Julian was with him and there were others, too. Well, they would either have to wait to take care of whatever business they had, or join the prayer circle, preferably the latter. I picked up my skirts and ran to the little group. We didn’t have any time to spare.
“Julian, Wallace, come quick, and bring your friends, too. It’s Jody. This can’t wait, and I want all of us there.”
Julian looked as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. He literally bent over forward and clutched his midsection. I moved in to hold him. “Julian, I want all of us there to pray for him. I will not allow…believe…whatever…that he is going to die. It can’t happen, not now. We need a miracle. Come on everyone,” I called out around him, not bothering to see who our visitors were. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Jody’s healing right now.
I heard one of the babies crying, probably Wren. I picked up my skirts again and ran back to the house, wishing once again that I could wear shorts or slacks or even a shorter skirt. Fashion, bah! Why weren’t women allowed to have functional clothes in this time?
It was Wren, and Sarah had picked her up and was pulling back her clout to make sure she wasn’t too wet for me to hold. “Here,” she said, and handed her to me. “She’s dry enough, but hungry. Who’s out there?”
“It’s Julian and some other people. Shoot, I didn’t even look to see who they were.”
I unbuttoned my dress and held Wren to my breast. I closed my eyes for that initial moment when the mixed sensations of bliss and discom
fort merged into that feeling with no name—the one every nursing mother knew—the joining that indicated the baby had latched on and milk was flowing, binding the two as one, ex-utero. It was possible to talk at that moment, but I chose not to. I always disassociated myself from the rest of the world until my body and my baby’s got in sync with the feeding.
I composed myself and looked over at Jody. He was so gray. It had to be because he was out of blood. I had seen his clothes when the men brought him back. They were mottled dark brown, stiff with dried blood, and had to be cut off.
Sarah blamed herself for not going with him that day. He had told her to stay with me. I said I was fine, that Wallace was here with me, but Jody insisted Sarah stay home. It was a simple trip. He was just escorting two young recruits to their home and family.
The ambush was motivated by greed only. The men were bandits, not even fighting for a cause. They wanted the horses and anything else of value that Jody and the two young patriots had. Well, they soon found out that the men didn’t have anything of worth, and only two of the three horses could be captured. No one could ride Aries but Wallace or Jody. The spirited stallion kicked one robber and bit another, and that infuriated them even more than the lack of spoils.
Jody tried to talk to them, to tell them that if they needed food, he could help. But they didn’t want charity—they wanted gold and horses. And if they couldn’t have Aries, then no one could. Jody stood in front of his steed, trying to keep them from goring his horse with their bayonets, begging them to leave him alone, but they were insistent.
Two of them stabbed at once. They both missed their target, and Aries escaped into the woods, unscathed. The one man probably hadn’t meant to stab Jody, but the other could care less. Either way, the three robbers bolted at the sight of his gushing wound, leaving the scene immediately with nothing but the two nags and the fear that no one else would be by for them to rob.
Jody’s two associates didn’t know what to do. Aries had run off, and their two horses were now in the possession of the highwaymen. They started to chase the robbers, but Jody called them back—they couldn’t catch them on foot.
Jody covered the wound with his kerchief, then wrapped his belt around it. He couldn’t secure it snuggly, though—the notches weren’t close enough. The gash was deep, but not spurting. He knew what was going on. He had seen a good friend die from an injury just like it. He jerked on the belt again and managed to tuck the free end in, creating a haphazard knot that he hoped would last until he got home to Sarah, that horrific memory giving him a needed shot of what she called adrenaline. His only chance was to keep the belt secured, keep direct pressure on his wound, but he lost consciousness before he could tell them what to do.
The two young soldiers hoisted him up, supporting him with their shoulders, and half-carried, half-dragged him home. They thought that getting him back to Sarah quickly was the best thing to do. Unfortunately, the jostling loosened the belt which caused more blood to be lost, weakening Jody further.
That was the day before yesterday.
“If I had been there, I could have staunched the flow. It would still be serious, but not fate...fatal. Oh, God, NO!” she screamed. She had been with Jody when he was near death before, but never felt this out of control. “How many times do we have to go through this?” she asked of no one but God.
I heard the scrambling of several people rushing toward the steps. It looked as if our company had accepted my invitation to pray for a miracle.
“Mommy! Mommy! Someone’s here and she looks just like you. She’s even wearing your dress!” shouted Jenny, as she burst through the door.
I was glad I was sitting down when she entered. My daughter, Leah, had just followed Jenny through the doorway. But she and the other newcomer to the neighborhood had eyes only for Jody. I sat in the corner, bug-eyed with shock, and tried not to hyperventilate.
“Hi, the little girl here said you were praying for a miracle. One miracle, coming up! Oh, but I’m going to need your help.” Leah was addressing Sarah, but Sarah was mute—stunned and unresponsive.
I knew what she was reacting to. Besides looking so much like me, Leah was wearing the dress she had helped me make, the one that I had on when I ‘went back’ to the 21st century two weeks ago. The hospital had kept my dress. I returned home to the 18th century wearing a pink terry cloth robe over two hospital-issued cotton gowns. Evidently someone had seen fit to give Leah my clothes. And probably my smartphone, too. That meant she may have—just might have—seen the little movie that Sarah, Jody, and I had accidentally recorded while I was still pregnant.
Leah knew how to get Sarah out of her daze, and it wasn’t with words. “James, hand me my bag, please,” she asked.
James Melbourne! Leah had come back through time with James Melbourne, the man I met in that Greensboro café the same day I met Master Simon, nearly a year ago. I felt as if I was in an IMAX movie theater and everything around me was larger than life. It certainly was stranger than the life I had grown up in—or even one that I had read about.
James had eyes for no one and nothing but Leah and the situation she was trying to resolve—saving the life of Jody Pomeroy. Leah pulled out the coil of flexible tubing and the small bottle with the hollow needles in it. Sarah’s eyes got huge!
Leah smiled and said, “Okay, Doc, it’s showtime! Wash up. I can’t do this by myself. I’m the donor.”
“What?” Evidently James hadn’t expected that. “But…but…” he stuttered.
I didn’t know what had happened to him, but he was extremely pale and appeared to be leaning against the wall by necessity.
Leah noticed it, too. “Sit down,” she said in a clinical tone. She was in attending nurse mode. “You just gave blood and need to wait a week before you give any more, 72 hours, at the least. I’m O negative, too. And if I can’t give enough,” she looked over and saw me sitting on the stool with the nursing baby at my breast, “I know someone else with the same blood type. Hi,” she said, with a smile that would make the Mona Lisa jealous.
I uttered a weak, “Hi,” in return, but didn’t move, too stunned to say more.
Leah bounced back to head nurse mode. “It’s a good thing he’s on the floor already. Can we move that table over here, men? I need to lie down and be higher than he is for this.”
Julian and Wallace picked up the table and brought it next to Jody. Now it was Sarah’s turn to direct the action.
“Wallace, bring me that alcohol, and Julian, would you bring this lady something to drink? Milk would be good.” She turned to Leah who was situating herself on the table. “Are you ready for this? It’s been a while since I’ve started an IV, and I’ve never done a live transfusion.”
“I’m not going to change my mind, so get started.” Leah looked down at the gray shell of a man who was to be the recipient of her life-giving blood. “Give him all he needs. Now is the time to start praying, everyone.”
Wallace walked over to me, Jenny holding onto his elbow. Julian picked up Judah from of the playpen and made his way into the crowded corner. The baby was sound asleep—I think he picked him up just to have someone to hold. Whether it was out of love, hope, or for security, it didn’t matter. It was heart-warming, and a good way to bring more love into our circle.
Wallace looked over at the medical procedure getting underway, his father lying on the ground, only a faint rise of his chest showing that there was any life left in the apparent corpse. “Lord, help them, please,” he prayed earnestly. “Help my father and those who are attending to him. My wife says she knows You will work a miracle if we ask, and Lord, we are all asking humbly, most humbly. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
“I’m looking for a miracle, I expect the impossible, I feel the intangible, I see the invisible,”[1] I started singing a song that came from deep inside my core. I didn’t remember where I had heard it and didn’t know the words to sing. They just came out of my mouth, softly at first, and then with conviction. When I
got to the chorus the second time, everyone who could talk in our little corner was singing, “Just believe and receive it, God will perform it today, hey, hey, hey. Just believe and receive it, God will perform it today.”
It was an intimate, late-18th century gospel revival. The Spirit was with us and the dread had left. We all knew—felt all the way down to the roots of our toenails and teeth—that everything was going to be fine. At least I did, and by the smiles on Julian and Wallace’s faces, they did, too. Jenny was still singing her little ‘God will perform it today. Hey! Hey! Hey!’ and dancing a little Indian healing dance in front of the door. Judah and Leonardo were now both wide awake, and although I knew they were ‘crying,’ it felt as if they, too, were rejoicing at the healing miracle.
I handed bright-eyed Wren to Wallace, and he passed me Leonardo to feed. Julian was doing a little waltz with Judah, singing softly to him, tears of pure joy spilling out of the corners of his eyes. I doubt Julian knew what the medical procedure was, but he was caught up in the spirit of hope and thanksgiving for the miracle we had all accepted.
I stood up and walked over to the table. Leah was looking down, watching Jody as the color returned to his skin. I bent over and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. She changed focus, turned her head around, and tipped it back to look up at me.
“Surprised to see me?” she asked.
“That’s a big ten-four,” I replied. “Hey, how about saving a little of that juice for yourself and letting me give Jody a bit of moi? Sarah, about how much do you think she’s given?”
Sarah pinched off the tubing in Leah’s arm and said, “Enough. Here, hold this.” She pressed a gauze patch to the spot where she had pulled out the IV needle. I took over applying pressure, and she clamped Jody’s end of the tubing, taping it to his arm. She looked up at me and said, “He’s not out of the woods yet. There’s a real chance that his kidneys have failed. We could give him more blood, but I think we had better wait for a few hours. It might not make any difference.”
Aye, I am a Fairy Page 49
