“‘Elizabeth sends her love. Sarah sends the enclosed picture.’”
Laina swallowed her spoonful of soup and glanced at Thad. “May I see it?”
“Of course. It’s only the reading that might strain your eyes.” Thad laid down Justin’s letter and lifted the candle, holding it and the picture in front of Laina.
A smile curved her lips as she studied the stick figure beside a large black, somewhat shapeless form. “It’s Mr. Buff—” A spasm of coughing choked off her words. She sagged into the pillows propped against the headboard.
Thad put the candle and picture on the stand and rose to hold a cup of medicinal herbal tea to her lips. “This will help that cough.”
Their gazes met. Laina’s heart fluttered. Oh, how silly she was to react so. She loved him so much she was imagining he cared for her, too! She looked away, gazing down at Thad’s hands—his strong hands that were so gentle when they touched a child. Dear God, I know it’s pride, but please don’t let Thad guess I love him.
Laina laid her spoon on the lap tray beside her bowl of soup and forced her hands up to take the cup. “I can do it.” She swallowed and grimaced, offered the tea back to him.
Thad shook his head. “Finish it. A fever demands that you drink a lot of fluids.”
She stared up at him, telling herself there was only warm compassion for a patient in his eyes, that it was the foolish longing of her heart that made her misread it as something more. “I thought—” she took another swallow as a cough threatened “—this was for the cough.” She drank the rest of the tea, shuddering as her lips puckered. Poor children. She’d been making them drink this vile stuff.
Thad took the empty cup from her hands. “It serves both purposes.” He grinned down at her. “It will take the taste out of your mouth if you eat more soup.” His grin faded. “You need to eat to keep your strength up, Laina.” He put the cup on the nightstand and picked up the letter. “Let’s see, where was I?”
She loved his voice. It was deep and calm and soothing. Laina forced herself to eat another spoonful of soup, then broke off a small bite of bread, chewing it as she leaned back against her pillows. Why did she feel so weak? The measles didn’t seem to affect the children that way. Maybe she’d feel better once the rash was out. She pushed aside her thoughts to listen as Thad continued the letter.
“‘Can you tell what Sarah drew? I confess I had to ask her. She told me it is you playing with Mr. Buffy when you are restored to health and come to visit us again. Alas, I’m afraid Mary has no such offering to send you. She ate her charcoal stick.’”
Laina burst into laughter, drowning out Thad’s chuckle. It was followed by a fit of coughing that left her trembling and gasping for air. Tears burned her eyes. She wiped her mouth with her handkerchief, then clenched her hands in helpless anger and blinked the tears away.
Thad poured out more of the horrible tea and held it to her lips. She swallowed and shuddered. “Shall I continue reading?”
She nodded. “But please take the tray first.” She leaned back, weary from the effort of eating and coughing.
Thad carried her tray to the table by the door, stacked it on top of his own, then came back and picked up the letter again. “‘I shall close now and write more tomorrow. Please know, Laina, that I wish I could be there with you. I love you, my dear sister.’” Thad cleared his throat. “‘Elizabeth and I are praying for you. You will be well soon, Laina. All will be well soon. Heart’s promise. Your loving brother, Justin.’”
Heart’s promise. You can’t break a heart’s promise, dearheart. Laina smiled. How blessed she was to have a family that loved her and prayed for her. And Justin was right—she would be well soon. After all, Anne was much improved already.
Anne. Who would care for little Anne, who so wanted her mama? Laina closed her eyes again and tried to take a deep breath. It made her cough so hard tears seeped from under her lashes and overflowed the corners of her eyes.
“What is it, Laina?” Soft material gently touched her temples. Laina’s breath caught. Thad was blotting away her tears. Oh, how she loved this wonderful, gentle man! “Are you in pain?”
“It’s not…” She paused and bit down on her lip, waiting for the tightness in her throat to ease so she could talk. She took a breath and tried to push out the words. “Anne doesn’t…she needs—”
“Anne is fine.” Thad’s hand touched her forehead and rested there. “Sunshine is making sure of that. She’s ‘taking care of her’ while you get better.”
Emma. Her own sweet Emma with the big, big heart. Laina smiled. She didn’t have to worry. Little Emma would make sure Anne was all right.
Laina sighed. Being sick was so enervating! She stole a quick look at Thad as he resumed his seat in the chair beside her bed, then closed her eyes again and gave in to the weariness.
Thad rose, lifted Laina’s wrist and checked her pulse before tucking her arm back under the covers. He rested his gaze for a moment on the long, damp lashes so dark against her flushed skin, then raised it to the red spots visible along her hairline. If it was only the measles the fever should break soon.
He lifted his hand and gently brushed a stray hair from Laina’s cheek as she slept, then let his hand linger there, resting against her heated skin. He loved her so much. Please, God, let my suspicions be wrong. Let her be well.
Laina coughed, stirred. Thad jerked his hand away from her cheek. It was pride, he knew, but he couldn’t bear for her to know he loved her when he had nothing to offer her. A woman of Laina’s social position had only the best. He frowned. The next time he was tempted to allow outward expression of his love for her, he should look around first. The furniture here in her bedroom was worth more than his entire house.
Thad took a deep breath, grabbed the candle and headed for the dressing room to wash his hands while Laina slept. At least with this measles outbreak in the orphanage he had an excellent opportunity to test his theory that lack of cleanliness had much to do with the spread of disease. And it would serve him well if he concentrated on the medical aspects of this situation and left his heart out of it.
Chapter Seventeen
“Laina. Laina!”
Who was calling her? Why didn’t they let her sleep? She was tired. And her chest didn’t hurt when she was sleeping.
“Laina!”
She frowned and forced her eyes open a slit. Daylight stabbed knives of pain into them. She closed them again, but not before she saw Thad bending over her. Her irritation fled. She loved Thad. And he was a doctor. He’d make her feel better.
“Laina, I know you can hear me. I want you to drink this.” His arm slid behind her shoulders, raised her off her pillow. Cold china touched her lips. She shivered. She didn’t want to drink anything. She wanted to sleep, but she swallowed the warm liquid to please him. A fit of coughing overcame her, making her chest hurt more and her head throb.
“Good!”
Good? It didn’t feel good! She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but was too tired to make the effort. Fabric brushed against her skin as Thad lowered her to her pillows, setting off another spasm of violent shivers. Heat radiated from his hands as he tucked the covers under her chin and around her shoulders. A second later his palm rested lightly on her forehead. It felt wonderful there. Laina smiled and let herself drift back into sleep.
Thad went to wash his hands again, then walked to a window and pulled back one of the curtains, staring out at the branches of the maple tree that grew beside the house. The remaining leaves were yellowed, brown and sere around the edges. He studied them closely, then turned his attention to the fading glory of the flowers planted along the path to the playhouse. Anything to keep from dwelling on his growing fear for Laina.
He frowned, made his thoughts veer away from that direction and focused on the coming winter. It was only a matter of weeks until snow would cover the ground. He made a mental note to get the runners on his sleigh sharpened soon. It wouldn’t do for him to be caught
unprepared and unable to get to a sick patient.
Thad’s stomach muscles tightened. He blew out a breath to relax them and ran his fingers through his hair, then lowered his hand to massage the tense muscles at the nape of his neck. Would he still be here caring for Laina and sick children when the first snowfall occurred? He hoped the answer to that question was no. That his orders for strict isolation and cleanliness would prove successful in stopping the measles before they swept through the entire orphanage.
“Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”
The words of Jesus, recorded in the book of Matthew, slid into his mind. Thad wasn’t sure if they comforted him or frightened him. He ran his hands through his hair again and looked up at the blue afternoon sky. “All right, Lord. I yield to Your wisdom. I won’t think ahead. I’ll take this situation one day at a time.” He took a deep breath, let the curtain fall back into place and went to check on Laina.
Laina turned onto her side and broke into a spasm of coughing. Thad laid his Bible aside, slid the candle closer to the bed and reached out his hand to touch her forehead. She was burning up! And her cough was harsher…deeper.
He took a firm grip on his fear and rose to pull the stethoscope from his bag, sliding the pieces together. He pulled back the blankets and placed the end of the wooden tube on Laina’s chest, lowering his ear to the other end. The crackling in her lungs confirmed his suspicion and sent fear racing through him as the memory of every patient he’d lost to pneumonia rushed to the surface of his consciousness.
Thad slammed the door of his mind to the memories and shoved the stethoscope back into his bag. He didn’t dare remember. His professional detachment was already shattered. He covered Laina, who was shivering so hard she was shaking the bed, and dropped to his knees.
“Lord, please…please touch Laina with Your healing power. She’s slipping beyond my ability to care for her, but You are the great physician. Your word says You healed all who came to You. Please, Lord, I lift Laina to You now. Please heal her. I ask it in Your holy name. Amen.”
Thad blew out a breath and forced himself to leave Laina’s side, to go wash his hands before he yanked the bellpull to summon Beaumont. He couldn’t delay any longer. He had to convey the news of Laina’s condition to Justin Randolph. He had given him his word.
Elizabeth took one look at Justin’s face as he came back into the drawing room and a silent prayer for mercy rose from her heart. “What was the message?”
“Dr. Allen says Laina’s not doing well—” His voice broke. “She has pneumonia.” He paced the length of the room and back again, then stopped pacing and faced her. “I’m frightened, Elizabeth. I’m frightened for Laina.”
“I am, too, Justin. But we mustn’t give in to our fears.” Elizabeth hurried to his side. “We have to have faith that God will hear our prayers and heal her.”
“He hasn’t so far.”
The hurt in his voice brought tears to her eyes, and the anger underlying the hurt brought an ache to her heart. “I know, Justin…I know. But we still must cling to our faith in Him. We still must believe in His mercy and goodness and love.”
“I suppose. What else have we?” His face went taut. He spun away from her. “I feel so helpless! Of all the riches I have, there’s nothing that can help my sister.”
Tears spilled from Elizabeth’s eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Justin’s waist, placing her cheek against his back. He was rigid with hurt. His hands closed over hers, pulled them away from his body. He stepped forward out of her arms. Fear snaked through her. “Justin?”
“It’s all right, Elizabeth. Don’t worry. It’s going to be all right. I’m not turning my back on God. I learned the hard way the folly of doing that. It’s only—I don’t understand….” He sucked in a breath. “I need to be as close to Laina as I can be right now. I’m going to go stand on the walk outside Twiggs Manor and pray. Don’t wait up for me.” He strode out of the room without a backward glance.
Elizabeth’s knees gave way. She sank to the floor, staring after Justin, then wrapped her arms about herself and rocked back and forth. “‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee…. What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee…. What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.’” She repeated the words over and over, wresting comfort and strength from the Scripture verse she had learned to live by.
“Stanford, sorry…so sorry…barren…”
She was dreaming again. Or hallucinating because of the fever. Thad laid his hand on Laina’s forehead and she quieted. He lifted her off the pillow and held a cup of broth to her parched lips. She needed liquid and nourishment. She turned her head away. “Laina, you must drink this. Please drink it for me.” He was begging, but he didn’t care. Let his love for her show. What did it matter? Nothing mattered but that she get well!
Thad set the cup aside, drawing in a deep breath, trying to help Laina breathe as she struggled to pull air into her congested lungs. Four days! Four days she had been like this! “God help her! You’re the breath of life! Breathe for her! Almighty God in heaven, breathe for her!”
His voice reverberated off the walls and ceiling, the anger and fear in it echoing in his ears. Who was he to order God!
Tears welled into Thad’s eyes. He drew Laina’s limp, unresisting body close against his chest and buried his face in her hair. “Forgive me my anger. I’m so afraid, Lord. I’m so afraid. Please give me wisdom to know how to help Laina.”
The curtains he’d drawn in front of the open windows to block the light during the day and keep out any breeze fluttered. Thad lifted his head, staring at them. A sudden gust of fresh night air rushed in the window, parting the curtains and filling his lungs. Life-giving air. His nerves tingled. He glanced down at Laina, lowered her to her pillow and pulled the covers up over her. She mumbled something incoherent. His hands clenched into fists. Forget the conventional medical practices! If he didn’t do something she would die.
Thad ran to the windows and yanked down the curtains, throwing them in a heap on the chair by the hearth. He tugged open the windows as far as they would go, then hurried to the chaise along the side wall and pushed and pulled until it sat parallel to the window.
Fresh, cool night air flowed over top of the chaise, riffling his hair as he spread a sheet. He tossed his pillow on the upward sloping end of the chaise, pulled a table over to stand beside it, then hurried to the dressing room for a basin of cold water and a facecloth.
Everything was ready. Thad lifted Laina into his arms and carried her to the chaise, covering her with a blanket, then went back and grabbed the blanket from her bed. He wanted her cool, not chilled. He spread the second blanket over her, then wrung out the cloth in the cold water and placed it on her forehead. That was all he could think of to do. He stood staring down at her, feeling helpless, useless, desperate, praying that nothing he had done would harm her.
“Baby…can’t have…baby…” Laina threw the covers off, opened her eyes.
“Shh, it’s all right, Laina.” Thad leaned down and smoothed the covers back over her, lifted her shoulders and tucked the second pillow beneath them, then held another cup of broth to her mouth. This time she swallowed some of the nutritious liquid. She broke into a fit of coughing.
Thad held her until the paroxysm passed, then lowered her to the elevated pillows as she slipped back into fevered sleep. He tucked the covers close about her so not a whisper of the cool night air could chill her, replaced the cool, moist rag on her forehead, then sat in the wooden chair he’d pulled to the side of the bed and reached under the covers to hold her hand. It felt small and fragile in his. Small, fragile and hot. His stomach knotted with fear.
“‘Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble. The Lord will preserve him, and keep him alive….’” He whispered the words of the psalm looking at Laina, who had
turned her home into an orphanage for the poor street children of Philadelphia, and he grabbed the ray of hope. “Make the promise in Your word real in Laina’s life, Lord. Make the promise of Your word real in her. Preserve her, and keep her alive—”
A sob choked off his words. Thad’s throat closed. He leaned forward, resting his head on the bed beside their clasped hands, and let his heart pray while the night air flowed over them.
“Children…help me…catch them!” Laina twisted and turned in the bed, the hand that rested in his opening and closing in convulsive movements.
“It’s all right, Laina.” Thad rose and leaned over her, stroking her hair with his free hand. “The children are all right. Sally is taking care of them.”
“Stranger…help me…children…” She coughed, shivered. “Who…stranger? Who…?”
She was hallucinating. She didn’t know who Sally was. Thad laid his hand on Laina’s forehead, wincing at the heat that seared his hand. The facecloth was dry again. He wrung it out in the water and replaced it. “It’s no stranger caring for the children, Laina. It’s Sally, your maid. Everything is all right.”
She turned her head away. “Breathless…his touch…makes…breathless…” Her eyes opened wide, and she stared up at him. “Thad!”
She recognized him! “Yes, Laina, it’s me.”
“Thad…stranger!” She twisted her head back and forth on her pillow. “No…no!” She convulsed in a fit of coughing. “Can’t love Thad…can’t…barren…”
Thad’s heart lurched wildly, then settled. She was delirious. She didn’t know what she was saying. He stroked her temples to calm her. “Shh, Laina, it’s all right. Everything’s all right. You rest quietly.” He lifted Laina, cradling her in his arms, holding her close, rubbing her back and soothing her. The heat from her fevered body poured through the fabric between them, scorching his skin.
He grabbed the blankets and yanked them over her, then lowered his cheek to rest against her hair and rocked back and forth, struggling to pull air into his own lungs that were squeezed tight by the band of regret and dread that girdled his chest. What a fool he was! She loved him! Loved him! And he had let his pride keep them apart. Now…
Joy for Mourning Page 21
