“I’m not sure. I mentioned the color blue and how it reminded me of birds.” Alaina leaned toward the woman and again tried to press her to take a drink.
To her surprise the woman parted her lips and drank deeply, though she turned her head away after one swallow.
Satisfied, Alaina patted the woman’s shoulder and got to her feet. In the waning daylight, the chill of the gray day would give way to another cold night. She hated to see the people struggling to stay warm while dealing with such chaos and deep loss.
She stepped over the inert forms of the injured and reached Jack’s side. A sigh escaped as she sank to the ground next to him. With gentle fingers, she picked up his hand and twined her fingers with his. She’d left him to pursue her mother’s dream for her. She understood now that her mother’s dream could not be hers. But her mother had been right in one very important way—she could not promise to marry a man who thought more of wealth than he did of her. She recalled all the broken promises and empty evenings when Jack’s promised visit turned out to be another study in loneliness for her. As much as she hated how she had broken the engagement, she would do it again. For her own sake. And if he was the man she thought he was, he would understand that decision.
Watching the rise and fall of his chest, and the stroke of his lashes against his unshaven cheeks, desperation rose in her. It would be so easy to ignore her common sense and marry him, if for no other reason than he was all she seemed to have.
Where was her mother? How would she find her in all this? Alaina’s stomach churned.
God, how do I find Momma? Where do I look? And Missy and Sam. Frank.
It was all so confusing, yet she thanked Him for the miracle of Jack’s life, and as she did, she squeezed his hand to her breast, then kissed the tips of his chilled fingers.
Twenty-nine
June 3, 1889
Jack knew he should open his eyes. The angel that sat next to him kept saying his name and stroking a soft hand along his brow, but his head hurt so much. Pain so bad he knew any light would grind the ache in his head to a sharper point. So he kept his eyes shut.
“You know, Jack, I think it’s time you woke up and stopped giving this young woman of yours so much grief.”
In his mind, he smiled. Dr. Matthews’s voice. He squeezed the small hand nestled in his and decided if he couldn’t open his eyes, at least he could talk. “Hurts too much.”
“A big, tough guy such as yourself is afraid of a little headache?”
Jack pursed his lips. He heard the quiet challenge and felt the soft poke of the man’s words. Just as he had worked up the courage to pry his eyes open, another voice, more gravelly than the first, called Dr. Matthews away.
“Jack?”
He turned his head toward Alaina’s voice. “Hey.”
“Do you need a drink?”
“Yes.” Within minutes he felt the press of a cup to his lips, but the strain of sitting up caused his head to pound harder and brought a wave of nausea with it. He relaxed back and rolled with the pain, swallowing convulsively over the urge to throw up.
Alaina dabbed his head with a cool cloth.
He wanted so much to ask her to put one at the base of his skull where the pain was most acute. He pulled air into his lungs and let it out long and slow.
“Dr. Lowman sewed up the gash in the back of your head.”
He didn’t remember it. A good thing, he was sure. “How long?”
“You’ve been unconscious for two days. The doctors established a temporary hospital on Bedford Street, so that’s where you are now.”
A question swirled in his brain. Something he wanted to ask, but the more he tried to bring it into focus, the more it eluded him, until he finally surrendered to the fog permeating his mind and fell asleep.
❧
June 5, 1889
Joy surged through Alaina as she embraced young Sam despite the awkwardness of his position on the bed. “Sam, look who is here.”
Behind them, Missy’s squeals filled the air. Sam turned his head, and his eyes lit up when he saw his sister in his father’s arms.
Alaina heaved a sigh of satisfaction. When Sam and Missy, bedraggled and dirty, and Sam with a badly bruised and broken leg, had been brought into the hospital late Sunday, Alaina had immediately registered their names in case Frank had survived the flood and was looking for them. Then she had prayed. To see him now, here, with his children close, brought a deep, abiding peace to her.
Frank, propped on crutches against the wall, didn’t bother to shield the tears of relief that streamed down his cheeks as he clung to Missy. He raised his head and shook it back and forth. “I don’t know what to say.” The man lowered himself beside Sam and held his son’s hand, stroking the hair from the boy’s face.
“Joy unspeakable.” Alaina smiled.
“With all the suffering. . .” Frank’s voice caught and with his free hand he pulled Missy closer and buried his face in her hair.
He didn’t have to finish the statement. Alaina understood. Everyone who found a missing loved one understood the ecstasy and the bitterness of realizing others were not so fortunate. It still wrenched her heart to see a woman fling herself across the identified body of a husband or child. She closed her eyes against the vision. Working to care for those in the hospital, she’d seen it too many times.
Sam shifted on the bed. Fever raged hot, turning his skin a bright pink, but the doctor had hope the boy would pull through. And despite his leg trapping him in debris, the workers had done their best to free the limb without inflicting more damage. What he needed most was food and water and rest.
Frank raised his head. “I couldn’t lie there not knowing and started searching right away, sure I’d lost them when I heard that Washington Street had pretty much disappeared. I must have passed out, though, because I woke up and was being carried somewhere. I don’t remember too much after that. Someone told me to check at the clearinghouse and there they were listed—” His voice choked off.
Alaina understood his emotion. “Sam said my mother got them to the attic and went down for something. Missy wanted to follow her, but Sam jerked her along just as the wave hit them.”
“Your mother?” Frank asked.
She could only shake her head.
“I’m sorry, Alaina. I’ll check the clearinghouse and post office on Adams and Main. People are registering all the time.” The big man’s expression radiated compassion. “I’ll head there now.”
“You can’t. You’re hurt, too,” she protested.
“I’m big and I’ve had time to heal. Probably the lying around is making me hurt more than the injury.”
“Can I go?” Missy piped up.
“I’ll need your help.” He got to his feet and pulled the crutch close, then reached to tousle Missy’s already-mussed hair. “Some of the roads are still hard to get through, though. Think you’re up to it?”
The little girl nodded a solemn nod and clung to his outstretched hand. “Will Sam be all right, Pa?”
Only Alaina understood the worry in Frank’s gaze as it scanned Sam’s face and then drifted to his heavily bandaged leg. “Give him a few days and he’ll be chasing you around Green Hill.”
Alaina paced down the aisle to catch a breath of fresh air. So much had happened in so few days. Supplies and money had come in from all over, yet still people suffered, though now more in spirit than in body.
Out the window, the bonfires raged on, their acrid scent scorching the air. Though needful, it still sickened Alaina to watch as dead horses and cows were cremated in the hot flames.
“Alaina?”
She turned from the morbid sight to the voice behind her.
A woman she’d not seen before spoke. “The young man is asking for you.”
She nodded, and the woman scurried in a different direction. When she got to Jack’s side, it pleased her to see his eyes open. At long last.
His blue gaze swept in her direction and settled on her
, though a crease in his brow brought Dr. Matthews’s warning to mind.
“Are you still having trouble with your vision?” she asked as she scooped his hand into hers.
“Hard to see you clear. Must have hit harder than I thought.”
She brushed her fingertips along his brow, glad no fever seemed present. “Does your head still hurt?”
He winced and licked his lips. “Not as much. Bearable.”
“Can you eat something?”
“I am hungry.” His eyes closed, and he rolled his head away from her, but not before she caught the way his lips twitched and the working of his jaw. His voice came out raspy. “What if my vision doesn’t clear?”
“Jack, hush. You’re awake. Alive. Do you know what a miracle that is for me? I thought I’d lost everyone.”
His sobs were silent, but she felt every one of them reverberate deep in her soul. She understood that his pain reached far beyond his vision. There were a million questions she wanted to ask him about the whole incident, but she held back as she knew she should. He, like so many others she’d helped in the last few days, had endured so much. More than she could comprehend. They needed time to heal on the inside.
Alaina gripped Jack’s hand harder and stroked his brow. “I’m here, Jack.”
When he quieted, he rolled his head to face her and swiped at the signs of his tears.
Alaina batted his hand away and stroked the shiny paths glistening along his cheeks. “We’ll get through this. You’ve already come so far.”
He touched her cheek, his fingertips rough against her skin.
She nuzzled her face against his hand.
“I love you.”
The words melted her resolve to be strong, and the warmth in his eyes brought heat to her cheeks. She straightened in the chair and leaned forward, determined to avoid a conversation best left for another time and place. “We’ll talk later. Just rest and get better.”
She shifted mental gears and told him about Frank, Missy, and Sam. This seemed to lift Jack’s spirits, and when he finally closed his eyes again, Alaina found comfort in the fact that she’d given him good news.
Thirty
June 8, 1889
Jack pushed himself to sit up. His head didn’t pound like it used to, and his vision had cleared, but he still felt fuzzy. Probably from not eating and from lying around for so many days. He made up his mind that he would walk out of the hospital that day.
Across from him, Sam slept on despite the usual noise. The noise. He’d be glad to go to sleep and not be awakened by groans or grunts or the usual hospital cacophony. With great effort, he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and hesitated. His world spun, then settled.
“Taking off?”
Jack tried to focus on the person at the end of his bed. Frank. “If they’re putting you in here, I am.”
“Well, they’re not.” Frank spread his arms. “And no more crutches.”
“Wonderful. Now help me off this bed and out that door.”
Frank’s chuckle reached Jack’s ears. “You think that’s wise? Doctors might have something to say about it.”
“They won’t miss me, and I’m sure they could use the space.”
Jack tensed his muscles to push himself up, but Frank’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “You’re an idiot, Kelly. You’ve not been vertical in almost seven days, and you’re going to try to just walk out of here. You’ll be on the floor so fast you’ll—”
Jack tried to shrug his friend’s hand off his shoulder and push forward, but whatever Frank was, he wasn’t weak.
“You should at least wait for Alaina.”
Which Jack translated to mean, “Maybe she’ll say something to penetrate that thick skull.” He chuckled and relaxed. “You win. I’ll behave.”
“Good. Now, before she gets here—”
“You going to lecture me again about treating her badly? Because I can tell you that being flat on my back, seeing all the destruction, surviving, has taught me a lot. I’ve been a fool.”
Frank pounded his shoulder, though not with his usual force. “You sure have, and I’m glad you’ve jerked to your senses. But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, brother.
“I heard someone say there’s quite a few people up in Brownstown who haven’t registered. I’m headed up there to see if Charlotte might be among them.”
Jack hoped for Alaina’s sake that she was. Though he and Charlotte seemed at odds, with Alaina caught in the middle, Jack didn’t wish anything bad on her, for her sake as well as for Alaina’s. Losing her mother would break Alaina’s heart.
Though he’d never given much thought to Charlotte’s disapproval of him, he saw now what Frank had tried to tell him months ago. People’s lives mold their beliefs, just as his father’s continual failings and living in poverty had molded his need to succeed. . .to be rich. Even to the exclusion of loving Alaina as he should. God had showed him so much in such a short span of time.
❧
The crude shelter creaked and groaned with the breezes. Alaina pulled her hair back into a low bun to mask the need for a good hair-washing. She stretched and tried to work the soreness from muscles not used to sleeping on hard surfaces. Oh, to soak in a nice tub of water. She’d give anything for the luxury.
As she crossed from Prospect Hill into Johnstown, Alaina’s spirits rose. The townspeople, with a lot of help from outsiders, worked hard to remove debris and build temporary housing. Clara Barton had arrived on the fifth of June, and already hotels were being built under her direction, along with Red Cross tents to serve as hospitals. Still, even with the progress brought by relief efforts, the townspeople seemed cloaked in melancholia. Time heals all.
She rounded the edge of the temporary hospital as nurses and doctors were readying people for transfer to the Red Cross tents. Down the row, she could see Frank standing beside Jack. Relief tweaked at her mind to see Jack sitting up, yet the sight also became tinged with worry when she recognized the stubborn set of Jack’s jaw and the hand Frank had on his shoulder.
As she closed in on the two, she overheard Frank’s intentions of going up to Brownstown to search for her mother. She detoured to Sam’s bed and found him sound asleep. She pulled the blanket up higher on the boy’s chest and smoothed the chestnut hair back from his smooth brow.
Frank caught sight of her first. “Just telling this brute he needed to lay himself down before he slid off onto the floor. He’s got it into his head that he can just hop to his feet and walk out of here.”
“He’s a bully.” Jack reached up to grasp her hand. “You’ll protect me though, won’t you?”
The warmth of his hand sent her heart into a canter. “I’ll protect you.” She sent a wink to Frank then scowled at Jack. “Now lie down and be a good patient.”
Jack groaned and squeezed her hand. “Yes, ma’am. Somehow it’s sweeter coming from you.”
“Let’s see what the doctor says before you try anything heroic. I do think it’s a good idea that you sit up more often.”
“I want to get out of here and help out.”
“Making sure you’re strong enough not to fall down face-first would help everyone out a lot,” Frank inserted.
Jack glared at Frank.
Alaina laughed. “You two are worse than Missy and Sam.”
“I heard that.”
Everyone’s attention went to the bed next to Jack, where a sleepy-eyed Sam watched the group. Frank went to his son and hugged him. The two fell into quiet chatter that swelled Alaina’s heart. She didn’t think she could have borne losing Sam or Missy.
“Am I that easily dismissed?”
She laughed down at Jack. “No.”
He raised her hand to his chest.
“Not at all.”
“Tell me what you’ve been up to. What it’s really like out there.”
The warm feeling melted away. “Why don’t you concentrate on getting better?�
��
His thumb caressed her knuckles. “I hear so much. Bits and pieces. I’m stronger now though, and I want to know what I can do to help. How bad is it?”
Her lip quivered, and she willed herself not to cry. All this time and she’d not given herself much chance to grieve, not that she’d had much time with all the work to be done. But now, looking into Jack’s soft blue eyes, the core of self-control crumbled, and she choked on a sob.
Thirty-one
Jack saw the warning signals that tears were impending and pushed himself up. He reached to pull her into his embrace, grateful the dizziness had eased. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and absorbed her emotions. It must have been very bad. Having seen the great swell of water and having fought its current for so long, he should have known, yet he had somehow held hope.
Sam’s eyes were round with concern, and Jack gave the boy a smile of reassurance to erase the worry from both Sam and Frank’s minds.
Eventually, Alaina pulled back. “I shouldn’t be crying. Some have lost everyone in their families.”
Jack pressed his finger to her lips. “Worry for your mother is mixed in with those tears.” He stroked the hair from her face. “Besides, I’m hanging on to you as much as you’re hanging on to me. I admit the world is still a little shaky.”
She pressed a hand against his chest. “Lie down. I don’t want you to—”
He caught her wrist. “I’m fine, Alaina. I promise.”
“But if you make yourself sick, they might—”
“Shh. Listen to me.” His words were taut with urgency. “I want to get out of here. Walk with me a bit so I can get my strength up.”
She stared into his eyes, and he saw the silent plea in the brown depths. “It’s not something you want to see. Johnstown is. . .gone.”
“I’ve already seen some of it, though it was blurry.” He wanted her to understand. “I need to feel a part of what’s going on out there.”
She didn’t protest as he slid to the edge of the bed and let his feet dangle and then touch the floor. As soon as his feet made contact, needles of pain shot into his ankles, and he froze his expression so Alaina would not pick up on the pain the effort generated.
Promise of Tomorrow Page 14
