Healing Sarah

by Lorin Grace

  Lucy threw open the door. “Our room is ready. Sarah, I had Louisa lay out dry clothes for you behind the screen. Change and come help me.”

  “I can help now.” Sarah hopped out of the wagon.

  Lucy put a hand on her lower back, which made her growing belly seem larger. “You’ll be of no use if you are standing there shivering. Hurry now. The doctor will want to see Emma, and I can’t have you changing when he is in there.”

  Sarah flew into her sister and brother-in-law’s room and was still shrugging out of her wet dress and shoes when she heard Samuel and Lucy enter.

  “Let me get that. I don’t want her to burn herself on the warming pans,” said Lucy.

  “A knife, please? It will be easier to cut these frozen clothes off her.”

  At the sound of Tim’s voice, Sarah’s hands froze, unable to finish undoing the ties of her petticoat.

  “My scissors are in my sewing box. Sarah, the box is back there. Can you hand them out?”

  Lucy’s head appeared around the end of the screen. “Heaven’s! Aren’t you done yet?”

  “Sorry, my fingers . . .”

  “Allow me.” Lucy made quick work of the strings of the corset and petticoats, tossing them on top of the wet dress.

  “Give me back my corset,” whispered Sarah.

  “You won’t need it under Louisa’s dress.” At least her sister hadn’t pointed out how Sarah didn’t need the corset at all. Lucy dropped a dry shift over Sarah’s head and tied the laces of the petticoats before helping Sarah into the dress minus the corset.

  “Pass me my scissors and hurry. You are shivering. I must get back to Emma.”

  The dry clothes felt good. Sarah hadn’t realized how cold she was until now. She didn’t bother putting her wet boots back over the new stockings. Eventually her feet would thaw.

  Tim hardly spared her a glance when she emerged from behind the screen. He was bent over Emma with Lucy helping him. “Sarah, can you get some hot water in the basin? Some of Mrs. Wilson’s clothes are so frozen we can’t get them off.”

  Her hands shook as she poured water from the kettle into the basin, some of the water splashing out.

  Tim looked up. “You are shivering!” He took a quilt off the end of the bed and wrapped it around her, his fingers grazing her neck. The shiver that went down her spine had nothing do to with the cold. “Go get warm. We’ll call you when we need you.” He gave her a push toward the door. Sarah glanced back, but he was already helping Lucy with Emma’s frozen clothing.

  Her sister looked up. “There is some stew. Eat while you warm up, then you can trade me.”

  The promise of being needed warmed her almost as much as the quilt. Sarah ladled herself a bowl of stew and was scooting her chair as close to the fire as she dared when the door banged open, nearly causing her to spill the contents of the bowl in her lap.

  Samuel appeared to be arguing with John, but both men quit talking when they saw her.

  Samuel spoke first. “How is Ma?”

  “They are still trying to get her frozen clothing off.”

  “Why aren’t you helping?” John crossed his arms and glared at her.

  “They—”

  Samuel turned on his younger brother. “As you see, Sarah is half frozen after spending the morning looking for Ma. Lucy and the doctor don’t need two patients.”

  “If she had stayed at my house like I told her to—”

  “Then we would still be looking for Ma. Dr. Dawes told me Sarah was the one who knew where to find her.”

  “What I don’t understand is why she couldn’t watch Ma in the first place.” John’s hands were balled into fists, and he took a step toward Samuel.

  Sarah stood. “I did watch her! I locked the house like I do every night. I hid the key. I told you how much I hate that, but I did it anyway! I don’t know how she got out or if she found the other key or something. I didn’t hear her leave.” Tears started to run down her cheeks.

  Samuel came around the table and pulled her into his arms. For a moment, she didn’t mind being small. She could almost pretend he was holding her like he did when she was little. “And you found her.” He placed a kiss on top of her head and released her. “Brother, let’s not fight about this now. All that could be said on the matter was discussed two weeks ago. None of us could guess we would get a half foot of snow in June or plan for such a danger.” Samuel turned back to Sarah. “Did Ma act oddly last night?”

  “She kept calling me Mary and searching for you and Thomas Jr. as well as her baby. I finally lied and told her you were all sleeping upstairs and that Mama was watching them. I said Emma needed to get some rest so she could get better and see them. She went to bed but kept wanting to go see her children. I stayed awake until I was sure she was asleep, then I banked the fire, locked the house, and went to bed.” Sarah took a bite of her cooling stew.

  John hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. “You are sure you locked up?”

  “I think I did. Since I do it every night, it is hard to remember one night from another.”

  “You think?” John pushed off the wall.

  Samuel glared at his brother. “Not now.” He turned back to Sarah. “How long did Ma think you were Mary last night?”

  “Close to two hours. None of my tricks worked. She got angrier than she has ever been when I wouldn’t let her see you or the other children.” She raised a hand to cover the side of her face.

  Samuel pulled her hand away and touched her cheek. “How did you get this bruise? Did Ma hit you last night?”

  Sarah looked at the floor, not wanting to answer.

  John studied her face. “That is ridiculous. Ma never slapped us, even as children.”

  Samuel didn’t reply to his brother. He lifted Sarah’s chin with his finger and locked gazes with her. “Was this the first time?”

  “No.” Sarah tried to step back, but the chair was right behind her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I tried to last Sunday.” She shrugged and looked in John’s direction.

  “I shouldn’t have brought her home last night.”

  Samuel dropped Sarah’s chin and turned to his brother. “Ma was out at your place yesterday?”

  “Of course. With Lettie ill, I needed someone to help with the children before the storm hit. As it is, I probably lost the south field. Sarah protested, but Ma did just fine.”

  Samuel groaned.

  Lucy appeared in the bedroom doorway, rubbing her back. “Sarah, can you come assist the doctor?”

  Sarah was glad for an excuse to leave the room.

  Samuel stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Tell the doctor I sent the boys back to the livery with the sleigh. They’ll bring Little Brown back here so he can leave when he needs to.”

  Sarah nodded and crossed the room.

  Samuel’s voice stopped her. “Sarah, thank you for finding Ma. I know you tried your best.”

  Sarah didn’t look back at him, afraid he might see her tears.

  Lucy shut the door once Sarah had entered, then hovered over her younger sister for a moment, talking in hushed tones, before addressing Tim. “Well, Doctor, it seems my replacement is here. I need to go take care of some other things.”

  “What you need to do, Mrs. Wilson, is to lie down. I don’t believe the baby is due quite yet, but the way you are rubbing your back makes me wonder if he is not considering an early arrival. This bed is large enough. You can lie down here if you wish, or perhaps in one of the children’s rooms.”

  “I promise I will go lie down as soon as I take care—” Lucy’s face pinked.

  Understanding dawned. Most likely she needed the chamber pot stashed behind the screen where Sarah had changed earlier. But he doubted she wo
uld want to use it with him in the room. “Very good plan. A least a half hour of rest. Sarah, can you take over here? The shawl is almost off Emma. I don’t want to rip her hair out or get her too wet.”

  Sarah took the cloth from him and worked at separating the yarn from Emma’s hair. Tim checked Mrs. Wilson’s feet. Frostbite. If she lived, he might end up having to amputate part of the foot. He moved the flannel-wrapped bed warmer closer.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Sarah held the shawl away from the bed as it started to thaw.

  “Could you make some type of tea? We can try spooning some into her.”

  “Would you like some? Or some stew?”

  “Yes, please, and check that your sister really did lie down.”

  Sarah left the room with the wet clothing, shutting the door behind her.

  Tim checked to make sure the door was closed before falling to his knees. As a doctor, there was little more he could do at this point. He had seen miracles in his battlefield hospital, but he had also seen weeks in which there were none. Emma’s life rested in the Almighty’s hands now. Part of him was tempted to let Emma slip away if he had a choice. Her apparent frustration that her memory played tricks on her would only worsen. Surely she would not be any better after nearly freezing to death. Yet, for Sarah’s sake, he hoped Emma would live, mostly so the brothers wouldn’t blame her for the death. Words wouldn’t come for the prayer he wanted to utter. He didn’t know what to petition for, so he muttered the Lord’s prayer and hoped God would understand.

  Beyond the door, he heard voices. John was ranting again. Tim stood. If he couldn’t help Emma, maybe he could help Sarah.

  Twenty-one

  Ladle in hand, Sarah whirled to face John, who stood over her. “Please stop. I am not a child, nor am I a soothsayer. I took every precaution for your mother’s safety. Other than sleeping in her room last night, I don’t know how I could have prevented her leaving. You don’t understand the state she was in yesterday. I’ve never seen her so bad.”

  John crossed his arms and looked down on her. “It wasn’t enough.”

  “What would be enough? Locking her in her room? Tying her to her bed? Sending her to some asylum in Philadelphia?” The angry words tumbled out. No one had ever discussed sending Emma away, but ever since she had read they were building an asylum near Boston, Sarah wondered if it might be an option.

  “I told you my plan. If you had only listened months ago, we could have brought Ma home, and she would be right as rain.”

  “I don’t think so.” Both Sarah and John turned to face Tim. “There is very little research on the madness of the elderly, but in all, I find it escalates. Mrs. Wilson has had more frequent lapses. I witnessed several myself. Usually the person becomes violent. Miss Marden never confirmed it, but I am certain this is the case as evidenced by her bruised cheek. None of the doctors I’ve spoken with have ever seen a patient this age whose madness decreases. It always grows worse.”

  “But if Ma came back home, she would be better.”

  Tim shook his head. “Sarah has told me she is always worse after being at your place. Perhaps it is because the memories come more easily there. Upsetting memories. Last night, for example, she remembered the death of Sarah’s aunt and possibly one of your siblings. I’ve had her mistake me for Mark or Daniel more than once, and then she lives through finding out they are dead or missing at sea all over again as the memories come back. Do you understand what type of heartache that must cause your mother?”

  Or me? Sarah blinked back tears.

  Samuel had entered the room at some point. “John, I asked you to let this go for now. Blaming Sarah will not change things. Why don’t you go sit with Ma for a spell? I am sure Dr. Dawes needs a moment to eat the food Sarah is dishing up.”

  Sarah felt John’s glare as he went into the bedroom, but she didn’t look up to meet it.

  Samuel came around the table to Sarah’s side and addressed Tim. “Have you had a chance to look at Sarah’s feet? Her fingers are still red, and she is walking clumsily.”

  “I am not!” No way would Tim examine her feet.

  “How are your feet?”

  There was no good answer. “Cold?”

  “Sit down and let me see.” Tim gestured to the rocking chair.

  Sarah shook her head. “Samuel can look. He studied to be a doctor too. Maybe he should check your feet first.”

  Tim shook his head. “I am wearing a perfectly sturdy set of fur-lined boots made to keep the cold out.”

  Samuel and Tim held a silent conversation consisting of a couple of shrugs and a nod. Why did men do that?

  Finally it ended, and Samuel spoke. “Very well, but if I feel the need, I will ask for the doctor’s opinion. Remember, I failed at Harvard, and that was twenty years ago. I have not seen any frostbite since.” Samuel escorted her to the chair.

  Tim turned to the table while Sarah untied the garters and removed the borrowed socks. Samuel’s touch hurt near her ankles but not so much as he continued feeling the rest of her feet. He looked up from where he knelt and whispered. “Pumpkin, I think I need another opinion. I don’t like the feel of your left foot especially.”

  The childhood endearment sent a shiver down her spine. Samuel wouldn’t use it in front of the doctor unless he were truly concerned.

  Sarah chanced a glance at Tim. He was bent over the stew with his back to her. “Must he?” she whispered back.

  The man who had been more father than brother nodded and stood. “I’ll stay here.”

  Samuel stood and went to the table. The two men had a whispered conversation Sarah strained to hear, but she caught little. Both men rose and came to kneel at her side. Tim’s hands on her feet and calves did not feel much different from Samuel’s, but Sarah could still feel the heat rising in her face.

  “Tell me if this hurts.” Tim kneaded her foot.

  “Ouch, that pinches.”

  Tim stood. Another whispered conversation passed between the men. Samuel went out into the lean-to and returned with the washtub.

  Tim pulled the bench forward and sat. “Sarah, there is some frostbite, but I am not sure how bad it is. We are going to warm your feet by having you soak them in water. You need to tell us how bad the pain is and where. If it makes you more comfortable, I’ll ask Samuel to check on your progress as often as possible.”

  Samuel filled the washtub using some water from over the fire as well as out of the bucket. Tim tested it. “That’s it. Not too hot. Her feet need to warm gradually.”

  “They feel like they are burning.”

  Tim swirled the water with his hand. “No warmer than a hot bath.”

  The bedroom door opened. “Ma is shivering.”

  “That is a good sign.” Tim hurried into the bedroom.

  Samuel positioned the washtub. “Pull your skirts up a bit more so they don’t get wet.”

  “What if Tim comes back?”

  “I am sure he has seen more than a woman’s feet during his career.” He smiled. “Let me go see if I can find a board and some paper. You can draw while you wait, unless you’d rather work on the mending.”

  “I am not sure I could hold a needle or pencil. My fingers feel huge.”

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “Emma needed more help, and Lucy doesn’t seem to be doing well.”

  “This child has been more difficult on Lucy than even the twins. I hoped Ma could help when it came time, as well as you, but I have had my doubts about Ma these last few weeks.” Samuel tested the water again.

  “My feet feel like I am standing in a thorny bush.”

  “Then they are defrosting.”

  “Emma misses being a midwife most, I think. It is the one place she seems to remember everything. You
should see her with Amity. But with the consensus being that I, as a spinster, can’t aid her . . .continuing to deliver babies isn’t feasible.”

  “Lucy has never complained about your help before.”

  “Yes, but both doctors forbade Emma to practice, and I can’t imagine they would allow me to help in anything short of dire need.”

  Samuel added another cupful of the hot water. “Even Dr. Dawes?”

  “Especially him. Most likely he suffers from suspicious husbands because he is unwed. Can you imagine if I were to help him?”

  Samuel chuckled. “Old Reverend Woods would have had you married by sundown to prevent the gossip.”

  She cringed at the memory of the overly pious minster of her youth. “Not by sundown, but he would have had our intentions read, even if he had to hold a special meeting to announce them.” Sarah kicked to make the water splash. Samuel moved back, laughing.

  The bedroom door slammed.

  “What is your problem, laughing while Ma is dying?” John’s face reddened with anger.

  Samuel stood and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We are not being disrespectful. You know Ma would prefer we found something to laugh about.”

  Four-year-old Stella came down the stairs. “Papa? Mama says she needs you.”

  Samuel was across the room immediately, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Why hadn’t John returned with the warming pan? Tim stuck his head out the door to find Sarah and John in a staring contest. “Did you refill the warming pan? It is essential we keep her warm.”

  John grunted and moved to the fireplace.

  “Wish that there was more I could do other than suggest earnest prayer and—”

  Samuel and Lucy lumbered down the stairs, ending whatever Tim wanted to say.