by Mercy Levy
“He is bringing the buggy around. Let’s go.” She handed woolen gloves to Isabella and picked up their one small suitcase. At the front desk, Estelle watched from a couple of feet away as her mother paid the room rent with shaking hands. She wished she were as stubborn as her mother to force her to rest instead of going on such difficult trip in such harsh weather.
An icy breeze welcomed them as they stepped out of the Winchester Lodge.
“Oh my,” Estelle muttered and then wrapped an arm around Isabella’s shoulders to lead her toward the buggy. William saw them coming and jumped off to get the luggage from Estelle.
“Good morning, Mrs. Douglas,” William tipped his hat in greeting. Isabella only nodded before climbing into the buggy.
“Drive carefully, William. Mother’s not feeling well. I don’t want to make this journey any more difficult for her than it already is. If the rain gets any worse, I want you to find a place to stop. I’ll deal with mother,” she briefed William.
“Of course, Miss. Estelle. In you get.” He held the door of buggy open for her and Estelle stepped in. Isabella was already sitting in the corner with her hands wrapped around herself, trying to keep warm...
Estelle took seat across from her and William placed their suitcase on the floor before taking his seat in the front to drive.
“You are being too hard on yourself, mother. You are sick and refuse to go to the doctor. Now you are forcefully making us travel across the country. What if your health gets worst?” Estelle asked.
She expected her mother to brush her off again, but to her surprise, she didn’t. Instead, she stared at her for a long time.
“This is more important than anything else, Estelle. You won’t understand it now, but later maybe you’ll know why I am so determined to get us to Lincoln,” her mother answered.
“I will never question your intentions, mother, but I don’t understand the rush. We could have waited for you to get well, or at least for the weather to settle. A few weeks wouldn’t have made difference.”
“That would’ve been too late,” Isabella whispered, looking away. It rose suspicions in Estelle’s mind.
“What do you mean, mother?”
Isabella shook her head and met her daughter’s eyes briefly. “We had nothing left in Lancaster, Estelle. After what happened to your father and Simon, I couldn’t stay there and wait. Especially when I knew that time was running out. I won’t be able to rest until I get you to Lincoln to your Uncle Richard’s home. I just hope that God gives me enough time to put you in Richard’s care safely.”
Estelle leaned forward in her seat. “What exactly do you mean by that mother? Why do you need to place me in Uncle Richard’s care? Where are you going?” she asked, her voice rising in panic.
Isabella looked at her ruefully and then turned her head to stare outside. Estelle waited for her to speak but when she didn’t, she took her mother’s weak hand in hers and brought in up to her cheek. “I want to stay with you mother. I don’t want to have to live with anyone else.” Estelle searched her mother’s eyes for reassurance but saw only regret and hopelessness. It made her feel empty.
“You will be just fine no matter who you are with Estelle. I have raised you well and God will always be your guide,” her mother said.
Estelle rested her head in Isabella’s lap and clenched her eyes shut. Her mother’s words had shaken her to her core. She was suddenly very aware that her mother knew just how sick she was and that she didn’t think she’d be alive much longer to take care of Estelle. She prayed that her mother would somehow recover.
Estelle didn’t know when she slipped into sleep. The sway of the buggy and her mother’s delicate fingers caressing her hair must have quieted her brain.
The loud neigh of horses woke her up. She had no idea how long it was that she had been sleeping. She tried to sit upright but found it difficult as the buggy was bouncing around wildly. Her mother looked frightened as she tried to hold herself in her seat.
“Mother!” Estelle cried and tried to reach out for her. The buggy was careening out of control and the sound of the panicked horses and rolling thunder was terrifying.
“Estelle, hold on to the seat. Don’t let go of it,” Isabella told her.
Estelle grabbed the edge of her seat and held on for her life. Isabella was holding onto the broken window which letting rain and cold wind in to the compartment Estelle looked out the window and saw torrents of rain coming down. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed loudly. She wanted to cover her ears but she dared not let go of the seat. One more violent bump and the door to Estelle’s left shattered and gave way, a piece of the wood scraping her face as it flew past.
“Now listen to me, Estelle. You will survive this. You are strong and resilient. I want you to live your life to its fullest and be thankful for all that you have,” Isabella said to her.
Estelle shook her head wildly. “We are both going to survive this mother, we just have to hold on. God will protect us,” she shouted over the noise of the storm.
The buggy hit a broad tree and its top cover crashed, falling over both of them. A large branch hit Estelle on her knees. This time she cried in pain and let go of the seat, only to tumble forward and land right beside Isabella.
They felt themselves starting to fall.
“William!” Estelle cried. “William, stop the buggy, please,” she begged their coachman but no answer came.
Estelle looked out and saw that William was no longer where he should have been. She knew she needed to do something if she was going to save her mother and herself. She offered up a brief prayer for strength and made her move. She struggled to climb out to the front and grab the reins of the horses, but they remained just out of her reach. A loud crack sounded as the buggy hit a large boulder and started to roll. The screams of the horses were the last sounds she heard before a sharp pain erupted from the back of her head and the world around her went black.
Chapter Two
“She is barely breathing and her pulse is very weak. What do you want me to do?” Jared looked up at his father, Nick.
“Cover her wounds and carry her to the house. Her injuries look serious to me. This forsaken foggy weather is making it difficult for me to see clearly,” Nick answered.
Jared once again looked down at the mass of mud, bone, and flesh that the girl was. She was barely alive. He knew she needed help and she needed it fast. He set about doing just what his father told him.
He shrugged out of his jacket and then pulled off his cotton shirt. The chilled air made his teeth rattle. Covering himself with jacket again, Jared ripped his shirt into long strips and then fastened one across the girl’s bloody forehead. He tried checking rest of her body but that was next to impossible in the dark weather.
His dog, Troy, bent down to sniff the girl and started to bark.
“I know she is alive, buddy. Calm down now,” Jared said to him. He carefully cradled the girl against his chest and gingerly lifted her off the ground. Her body was cold and she shivered involuntarily in his arms. As he started to carry her toward the house, a weak moan escaped her cracked lips. She was thin and the wind seemed to have blown right through her. He wondered if she would survive.
Walking against the wind, Jared headed toward the house. Troy kept barking as if to tell him that the route was clear. Jared carried the girl to the house and let Troy in first before locking up the door behind him. The instant warmth of the house felt wonderful to him and a soft whimper escaped from the girl.
“Bring her near the fireplace. It’s freezing out there,” Nick called as Jared walked into the living room. Nick had put more wood in fireplace and was setting up his equipment. Jared placed the injured girl on the blanket near the fire.
“I’ve put some water on the stove. Bring it here and we’ll start cleaning her wounds to see what the real damage is,” Nick said as he began to pluck twigs out of the girl’s tangled hair.
Jared watched as his father tended to the
girl’s injuries. He ran back and forth to the kitchen to grab clean supplies and water when needed. He could clearly see how much his father still loved to practice medicine. He loved it as much as Jared loved his art. He was eager to get back to the project he’d been working on, but he knew that his father still needed help with the girl. Once her wounds had been cleaned and the mud wiped from her body, Jared could see that the girl had flawless pale skin. It was the type of complexion painters loved to paint. This poor girl, despite her many bruises and cuts, was a work of art.
His father was able to diagnose a sprained ankle, broken wrist, and deep gashes on her head, knee, and shoulder. He surmised she must have taken a terrible tumble.
“I wonder if there was someone else with her. She can’t be travelling alone and doesn’t look like anyone from around here,” Nick said rolling the bandage back in its roll.
“She shouldn’t have been travelling in this awful weather in the first place. She’s lucky to still be alive,” Jared said.
“That’s true enough. She’s not out of the woods yet either,” his father said.
Jared picked up the spare lamp from the table and pulled his coat back on. “I’ll go out and see if I can find any evidence of anyone else,” he said, calling Toby to his side. Truthfully he just wanted to get back to his art but he knew his father would be disappointed if he didn’t go out to look. “Come on, Troy, let’s go see if we can find anyone else that needs our help.”
“Lead the way, Troy,” he said and Troy started to move. Troy had been a stray that Jared had taken in when he had left New York. He was the only thing he had brought out west of his old life. The rest had been lost in the fire. He shook his head, not wanting to think about that now.
Together, they circled around but the fog was growing thicker and the darkness was deepening. They would have little luck finding anyone out here in these conditions. Jared was about to start making his way back to the house when Troy started to bark again.
“What is it?” Jared asked and then loosened Troy’s lead. The beagle started to run north and Jared followed. Troy was just ahead, pulling Jared into a gully.
“Where you going, boy?” he muttered, trying to regain control of the dog’s lead. Suddenly the dog stopped and Jared saw pieces of pieces buggy. A couple of feet ahead, an older woman lay still on the ground.
Jared rushed to the woman’s side and dropped to his knees. Before he even checked for a pulse, he knew he wouldn’t find one. Her face was pale as paper and her lips were blue. He figured that she had to have been with the injured girl back at his house. He nearly surprised himself at how unaffected he was in the presence of death. It wasn’t always that way. Before everything that had happened back in New York, the sight of a corpse would have sent him running for the hills. He had hated when his father would come home and talk of medical things. Now, all of it barely made him flinch. He’d seen too much in the past four years to be affected by it anymore.
He lifted the lifeless woman and lay her under a tree where her body would be shielded from the elements a bit more. He returned to the wreckage and found the remnants of a suitcase with a wallet inside. He opened the small leather billfold and found tow ID cards with the names Isabella and Estelle Douglas. Now he had names to go with the faces.
Jared picked up what he could of the luggage and tucked the billfold in his pocket. He walked back to the house to find out what his father wanted to do about the dead woman. All Jared wanted to do was close himself inside his room and go back to his art. It was the only thing that made him feel anymore.
Chapter Three
Every inch of Estelle’s body ached. She tried fighting the darkness that consumed her but it was beyond her strength. She tried moving her limbs but was too weak to do so. The pain shot through her in electric jolts and she made weak sounds like a mewling kitten. After a while she stopped struggling and embraced the darkness once again.
Sometime later, muffled voices woke her. She lay perfectly still and concentrated on what they were saying.
“How far?” a male voice said. Wisdom and age was laced with his tone. Estelle wondered who he is. William? No, that was not William’s voice.
“Just north of here, close to the old Winslow gully. I left her under a tree so I could see what you wanted to do about it...” This voice was different; Deep, throaty, and gruff. It sounded much younger than the first.
“Mercy. That’s too bad,” the first voice said.
“What do you want to do?” asked the second voice.
“Let’s wait and see if she wakes up and then I’ll decide,” the first voice spoke again. “Better call on the coroner for the other one.”
Coroner? Estelle knew that word all too well. She fought hard to overcome the darkness that threatened to close in on her again it but she was still too weak.
A warm hand touched her wrist and sharp pain jolted her awake. A moan escaped her lips.
“Estelle?” she heard someone saying her name softly. She tried opening her eyes and this time she succeeded. A pair of pale blue eyes looked back at her and the pity in them took her aback. She had no idea where she was or what had happened to her, but she knew she was in trouble. She tried to open her mouth to say something but then she remembered. Coroner. She had heard the word coroner. She closed her eyes again briefly.
“Estelle, are you okay?” his voice came again, and then she felt his hand on her forehead. She heard a chair moving and then some more voices.
A few moments later, she heard footsteps. “Get me some water.” The old, wise voice was back. Cold water touched her parched lips and Estelle drank a few sips. She found that she was ravenously thirsty but the man pulled the cup back from her lips, causing her to open his eyes.
An elderly man with kind eyes and a benevolent face sat beside her in a wooden chair. “Easy now,” he said. “If you drink too much too quickly, you’ll make yourself sick. You’ve been in and out for a few days now.”
Estelle laid her head back down and looked around the room. Nothing around her looked familiar in the least. Finally her eyes settled back on the older man’s face and she gave him a questioning look. “My name is Nick. Do you remember who you are?” he asked.
She frowned at his words and that brief action of scrunching her brows ignited pain in her head.
“Of course,” she said, clenching her eyes close to relieve the pain.
“That’s good to know. Can you tell me your name?” the man called Nick asked.
“Estelle.” She opened her eyes again and tried to sit up straight but the effort made her entire body cry out in pain.
“Careful, or you’re going to hurt yourself worse than you already are,” came another voice from behind her.
Estelle carefully turned her head toward the second voice and met the pale blue eyes that had been before her earlier. He looked down at her with a mixture of compassion and slight annoyance. “Take it easy, Estelle. You have a broken wrist and some other injuries,” Nick was saying but Estelle’s eyes were stilled on the man with the pale blue eyes.
He was tall with dark skin and hair. His blue gaze was stoic and his stance slightly standoffish but there was a gentleness around him that Estelle could see he was trying to hide.
“This is my son. Jared. He found you injured two days ago,” Nick said.
Jared. She liked the way the name sounded.
Suddenly, Estelle remembered something. She looked around the room but saw no one else there with the three of them.
“I was with my mother. Where is she?” she asked Nick. “She wasn’t well when we were travelling, and then our buggy had an accident.”
The look on Nick’s face was one of sympathy. When he didn’t say anything for a moment, Estelle turned to look at Jared. He refused to meet her eyes, looking everywhere but at her.
“I have to find her. She is sick. Injured too, probably. She can’t be on her own.” Estelle tried again to sit up, this time more forcefully. The pain from her various in
juries seared through her and she cried out.
“Lie down, Estelle. You are in no condition to move. You have a broken wrist, a sprained ankle, and bruised body.” Nick made her lie back on the pillow and straightened her blanket around her.
Estelle had no choice but to comply. Her body would simply not cooperate with her wishes.
“You need to rest, dear. We can talk once you have eaten something and rested. How does soup sound to you?” Nick asked.
“I want my mother, Sir. Please,” she begged. Suddenly the word came back to her again. Coroner.
Nick looked at her gently and she saw it in his eyes before he even spoke. “She didn’t make it. I am so sorry,” Nick clasped her hand.
Estelle stared at Nick, trying to will him to say he was mistaken or that she’d heard him wrong. When he said nothing, she looked at Jared who was still refusing to meet her eyes. She felt something inside of her break.
Her voice was stuck in her throat. Her mother was dead and she was all alone in this world. Her heart began to ache but she was unable to cry, to yell, and to scream like she wanted. Learning of her mother’s death had sapped all of the strength from her.
Estelle was numb and stared ahead of her, unseeing. She was aware that there were movement and voices around her but she didn’t absorb any of it. She lay on the cot, lost in her own world, until a heavyset woman appeared before her and called her attention.
“Can you hear me girl?” the woman asked. “We need to get you washed up and into some clean clothes.”
Estelle nodded almost imperceptibly and allowed the large woman who had introduced herself as Rosie, to do what needed to be done. Afterward, she retreated back into herself once more.
You will survive this. You are strong and resilient. I want you to live your life to its fullest and be thankful for all that you have. Her mother’s last words echoed in her mind. Isabella knew she wasn’t going to survive. Her health was failing already and even if they hadn’t met the storm, Estelle would have lost her sooner or later anyway.
