Emma sighed and went back to her butter molding and other chores through the day, worrying how Carrie fared. On her weekly milk run on the morrow she could check on her.
The next morning, Titan brought Emma to Moss Creek with her milk. Laura came out holding Permelia. Gerta held her hand but walked more each day like a young child than a two-year-old. She slipped off Titan and hugged Laura carefully and peeked in the bundle at the babe. They shared greetings, then went into the cabin for their usual tea.
“The babies grow each time I see them.”
“Land sakes, I can hardly keep them dressed. Gerta overgrows her dresses near as quick as I can make them. It ain’t like the boys, where I can pass their duds down.”
“I’ll bring some dress material left from my last dressmaking. I believe I have enough yardage to help you out.”
“Thank ye kindly, Emma. You’re a real friend.”
“Where are all the farmers this day?”
“They’re putting up a hog enclosure afore the rain starts. James thought it would come this morn, but ain’t but clouded over yet. Mayhap we’ll get rain later. The fields could use it, now they finished the hoeing. I sent the boys to weeding the gardens.”
“You trust them with the herbs?” Emma raised her eyebrows, worried for Carrie’s garden.
“Land sakes, Carrie don’t let no body touch her garden. Only she knows what she planted and what it’s ’posed to look like. Why, I wouldn’t trust my own self with her special plants. And she’d hide me till I could hardly walk.” Laura grinned. “Carrie’s been jealous of them plants since she started with ’em ’bout four years going.”
They sat quietly talking of the children. The clatter of a wagon came along the trace and the squeal and stink of hogs reached them. Laura hopped off her chair and went to the door. She stepped out and greeted someone, then clanged her iron pot.
The baby woke with the loud noise. Emma took her up and cuddled her, cooing softly until she slept again, and she quietly snuggled her into the cradle.
Carrie and James trotted into the yard just as Emma stepped out of the cabin.
James huffed. “What? Oh. Moose’s wagoner. Hey’up, Mr. Channing. You can drive the wagon here to the new sty.” He directed the wagoner across the clearing to the pen they had just finished.
Carrie nodded her greeting. Emma smiled at her. Had her mood passed?
The hogs grunted and snorted as they were herded down the ramp from Mr. Channing’s high-sided cart. James, Carrie, and Mr. Channing drove them into the enclosure made with split rails. Emma doubted the hogs would stay long inside it. Mumford’s hogs foraged wild in the timbers.
When Carrie came up to her, wiping her brow, Emma stepped closer to brush some dirt from her cheek. “Just a smudge.”
Carrie smiled and blushed. “Ever’ time you come by I am dirty as one of them hogs. Mayhap you can come once when I’m clean.”
Emma grinned at her. “I’d have it no other way. You’re a good farmer, Carrie.”
Carrie ducked her head and murmured, “Thank ye. I best help with the gilts.”
Laura hauled a wooden bucket from the cabin. “Here’s the scraps I been saving.”
Carrie fed the pigs, who immediately snuffled in satisfaction within their new home. Emma cringed at their stench. Carrie didn’t mind getting dirty, but Emma didn’t like pigs.
The boys ran over to the sty.
“Not too close, boys. They need to get used to you afore you go getting friendly with ’em.” James peered at his new stock. “They look hearty. We should have a good herd come summer’s end.” He gave the wagoner the trade they had arranged with Moose and the wagoner drove the rattling cart away.
Laura looked at Emma. “I best put away your milk.”
“I also brought some butter.”
“We are mighty glad to have butter.” Laura’s eyes glittered and Emma was glad she had made the right decision to bring a mold of yesterday’s churn.
“I should have more butter every fortnight now. Millie produces more milk these days. It’s my first of her butter.”
“We gonna go back to hoeing the big corn field, now the gilts have arrived,” James yelled from the yard. The boys grumbled.
Carrie peeked around the open doorjamb. “Blessings of the day, Emma.”
Emma smiled. Carrie was back to her congenial self.
“See y’all at midday.” Laura waved them off from the cabin door, then stored the milk and butter in their cool pantry. “You can make the tea, Emma.”
Later, Laura and Emma drank their cups of tea, talking about how the boys were growing, replacing the bodily bulk they had all lost in their trek in the early spring.
“Your cabin looks more homey each week. I like the curtains.”
“I made some from the old dresses of Gerta’s that had seen better times.” Laura beamed.
The curtains did not match like hers did, but no matter.
“Carrie brought in these cone flowers from the prairie. She brings me flowers ever’ week pert’ near.” Laura sighed. “She seems happier lately. Some thing or other bothered her after the barn-raisin’.”
“What happened?”
“No idee, her being close-mouthed when she’s moody.”
Emma pondered a moment. “I like her very much.”
Laura eyed Emma, but was quiet. She sipped her tea. “I ken she has feelings for you, by the way she talks about ye. She don’t make friends easy. Most other women are put off by her ways.”
“I like her ways.”
“She puts you on a pedestal, I reckon.”
A pedestal? “I don’t want to be on a pedestal. I want her to see me as a friend she can trust.”
“Trust is hard. It takes her a bit o’ pondering afore she trusts most others.”
“She trusts you and James. She shows a lot of pride in the boys and Gerta, from what I’ve witnessed.”
“We need her help around the farm and with the young’uns. But she gets lonesome, her not having her own family.”
“I see.” Emma’s own loneliness came rushing up. “Mayhap we can help each other with our lone lives.”
“A body alone out here in the wilderness can hurt your heart. I’m glad to have Elizabeth Forrester and your friendliness.”
“It pleases me to chat with you over our weekly tea.”
They both smiled at each other.
“Mayhap you and Carrie can chase away your lonesomeness by being friends.”
“Mayhap we can.”
After the June hoeing of all the corn, wheat, sorghum, and oat fields, the pigs settling in, and the chicks kept safe by the boys and Patch, Carrie prepared to make a journey to Emma’s.
“Ye making yer concoctions this day?” Laura asked.
Carrie bagged up the leaves she had dried the last fortnight over the fireplace. “She told me to come Tuesday week, which is today.” Carrie busied herself with the dried sage, poppy leaves, and pennyroyal. “Need to pick lavender and columbine.” She went out to her garden and returned a time later. She clapped her hat on her braids. “Reckon Maisey and I’ll be gone all day. I hope to make it back by candle-lighting.”
“Take these corn cakes. I made extry this morn.”
“Thank ye, Laura. Emma doesn’t have much dried corn like we brought with us. It’s held us well.”
“It has for certain.”
Carrie and her bags arrived on Maisey at Emma’s just as the sun crested the treetops around her cabin.
Emma greeted on her front stoop and kissed her cheek lightly.
Carrie’s smile reached all across her angular face. “Good morn.” She held out her two bags.
“What have we here?” Emma peered into the bags. “Laura and her hospitality. Thank her kindly for the corn cakes. Shall we begin our labors?”
Emma brought out the goose grease from Captain Dixson’s flock. “We can make an ointment of lavender and one of columbine.”
“I know the making of them both from Mab
el Good, but I want to see how you make yours.”
Emma crushed the lavender in a shallow bowl with a long stone that Carrie thought she had picked for this job apurpose. When the leaves had been crushed enough, she poured them into another, deeper, wooden bowl and stirred in small amounts of grease. “I don’t want too much grease; it won’t be strong enough.”
“You make use of lavender ointment for skin problems?”
“Skin problems, yes. I also mix some with safflower seed oil. You can start crushing those seeds. There in the window.”
“I can smell lavender all day.”
Emma inhaled deeply. “So soothing, isn’t it?”
She worked at her ointment, then picked up sage leaves for crushing. Carrie pounded the safflower seeds into pulp, wiping her brow of the sweat that poured off her on the very warm June day.
Carrie finished up her work in no time, her whole body floating on happiness at being in Emma’s presence. They worked side by side as if they had always done so. Like they were their own little family. Like Carrie belonged here in Emma’s cabin, in her life, sharing in their common toil that felt like no toil at all.
“I’m to go over to Mrs. Conner today. Her son has a fever. Will you come with me?”
“I’d be pleased to go. I want to see you in your healer work.” Carrie smiled at the chance to share more of Emma’s time.
“Very well. We’ll work on the ointments and oils until after midday, then ride to the Conners’.”
The day got warmer, the cabin stuffy, and wet stains appeared under the arms of both women’s clothes. They left off the work for a midday meal.
Carrie peeked at Emma across the table. Her dark hair was ringed with wet curls, her cheeks flushed. Carrie took a risk and said, “You look beautiful, Emma.”
Emma looked up at Carrie from her trencher. “Aren’t you sweet to say that, even while I’m drenched with perspiration.” She clasped Carrie’s hand in hers.
Carrie’s heart nearly jumped in her throat. “I love you,” she blurted out. She sat back, stunned.
Emma’s eyebrows lifted. Her eyes bright with emotion, she leaned toward Carrie.
Carrie, startled by both her confession and Emma’s response, took a moment to register what Emma was doing, then leaned forward to brush her lips very gently. They broke off the pressure of tingling lips. Carrie inhaled deeply and settled her chair closer to Emma’s.
“I love you as well.”
Good Lord. Carrie stared into Emma’s eyes. “What does this mean?”
“I do not know, my sweeting. I only know that I have deep feelings for you.”
“Emma, honey, I…My heart is about to beat out of my chest. Is love like this? I reckon it must be.”
“Yes, sweeting. I have only loved my parents, none other, but I believe…I’ve read romance books that describe such as you tell me. And my heart beats like yours.” She sighed, grinning, while stroking Carrie’s cheek with the back of her hand. “You draw me to you. I can’t explain it.”
Her pounding heart filled her with such warmth, not like the heat of the day, but a quiver deep inside. Carrie gulped, inhaled, and kissed Emma again. “I like to kiss you.”
Emma hummed. “I like to kiss you as well. Your lips are so soft. So inviting.”
A weird fear overtook Carrie. “Do women kiss each other like this? I’ve never known of it. Not in Christian County.”
Emma looked deeply into Carrie’s eyes. “I did not ken any such in the Hudson Valley or here. It confuses me as well. But…love can never be wrong, can it?”
“My love for you is perfect to me.” Carrie’s fear died away a little, but she still had a nagging in her brain. “I am afeared of what others might say about us. Mr. Conner said I wasn’t a real woman, dressing like I do. Dancing with you. Farming with James. But I can’t stop thoughts of you running around my noggin. Your kind ways. Your beauty, inside and out. I don’t have the words to put to my ponderings and it hinders me. But mayhap we met a purpose. Mayhap the good Lord put us in each other’s paths for a reason.”
Emma stood and drew Carrie up. She kissed her more deeply. Carrie stopped breathing and got lost in the kiss. Emma’s hand cupped Carrie’s nape tenderly and Carrie uttered a throaty moan.
Carrie ended the kiss grudgingly. “You take my breath away, Miss Reynolds.”
Emma exhaled. “Aye, my sweeting.” She drew back but fastened her hands around Carrie’s neck, as her eyes became serious. “Mayhap, we ought to see to the Conner children.”
Carrie grinned so much she figured her cheeks would bust. She backed away from the soft embrace.
They bottled up what they had made thus far. For each of them, a jar of lavender ointment, a packet of dried, crushed sage leaves, a bottle of lavender oil, lotion with columbine, and dried poppy leaves mixed with corn liquor for cough, sleep, and pain.
On the way out of Emma’s cabin, they held hands. Carrie helped Emma up behind her on Maisey. Emma grasped her waist tightly, snuggling close despite the heat and Carrie placed her right hand on Emma’s arm. She looked around at Emma. “You on tight? Off we go, honey.”
Conner’s cabin lay on the bank of Moss Creek, near a depression with reeds and bulrushes. Green moss covered the roof and cabin walls. The right side tilted down. When they entered, cracks in the chinking let light shards play across the dirt floor.
Mrs. Conner, dressed in a gray, patched dress, brought them to little Ralph, lying pale on a pallet in a corner of the musty space, covered to his chin in blankets. Another child, Rowena, not yet eighteen months, had come down with fever, too. Carrie looked them over, noting their thin, ashy faces and eyes ringed with dark circles.
Emma got Mrs. Conner busy boiling water. Emma produced two packets of herbs from her burlap bag.
“We’ll give them mint then willow bark teas, Mrs. Conner.” Emma prepared the mint tea and handed Carrie the willow bark to make another pot.
“Do you reckon it’s pioneer shakes?” Mrs. Conner asked.
She had a timid way of talking. Carrie wondered if her husband beat her, as she had that haunted look Carrie had kenned on other wives whose husbands used the rod or their fists to secure their obedience.
“Mayhap, Mrs. Conner,” Carrie answered, patting her on the shoulder. “The teas will help with the fever.”
Carrie left Emma to do the dosing of both children, getting them each to sit up and sip from a cup. Ralph coughed, then lay down. The smaller child sipped and went back to sleep immediately.
“Give them some of this tea through the day and night as they wake, more of the mint than the willow bark. If their fevers don’t break by the morrow, come fetch me.”
“Yes’m. Thank ye kindly, Miss Reynolds.”
Mr. Conner entered the open cabin door, gazed at the three women, harrumphed, and went back outside.
“My husband doesn’t set store by herbs and such,” Mrs. Conner murmured, her forehead creased. “He wanted to fetch Mr. Kerr, but I said you could help.”
“Mr. Kerr would use the same teas, I reckon,” Carrie said.
“He knows I use good medicines, Mrs. Conner.” Emma patted her thin arm. “We best be getting back so Carrie can get home before candle-lighting.”
Mrs. Conner rummaged in her pantry. “I have more eggs than we need. Take these.” She had a defeated look about her dull eyes. “You were good to come to us. I worry about my young’uns.”
“Thank ye, Mrs. Conner. Worry won’t help Ralph and Rowena. Give them the teas. And remember to fetch me if they’re not better.”
On the way to Emma’s cabin, Carrie said, “Pioneer shakes comes and goes. You reckon those children’s fever will break before the morrow?”
“If indeed they have pioneer shakes, they’ll be fine in a day or two. But if they have another fever, they may not. They didn’t look hearty and hale to me. I could see their ribs sticking out.”
“Their cabin is pert’ near falling down and sat too close to the unhealthy air of the swamp lan
d.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Carrie. But I fear that the mosquito time is upon us. That fever is bad.”
Carrie stayed up on Maisey at Emma’s door. “Thank ye kindly, Emma. I enjoyed working on the medicines.” She smiled and held Emma’s hand, brought it up, and touched it to her lips. “I figure to see you Monday week with more milk. I’ll miss ye till then.”
Emma stroked the leg lying down Maisey’s side. “Thank ye for attending with me to the Conner children. My sweet Carrie.”
Lord ’a mercy. Carrie loved Emma’s soft touch on her leg. She didn’t want to go, but finally turned Maisey down the trace toward home.
James returned from Moose’s trading post two days later and trod into the cabin. “Like a furnace on the trace.” He took off his hat and wiped at his face.
Carrie tended to a crying Permelia.
He grimaced. “I got bad news.”
“Oh?” Was Emma all right?
“I heard the Conner children who you and Emma dosed died this morn.”
Laura came into the cabin with her apron loaded with produce from the garden. “Conner young’uns died?”
Carrie sat hard on the straight-backed chair.
“They intend to bury them on the morrow at midmorning. The preacher’ll say a few words over the graves.”
“We will go to the buryin’. Carrie, you sick? You look ashy.”
Carrie stared at the cabin wall. The worst that could happen to a pioneer family—children dead. Poor Mrs. Conner. And Emma would take it hard, like she failed.
“Reckon it wasn’t pioneer shakes.” James put his hat back on. “I aim to cut some firewood and check on the pigs in the timber. Best keep the young’uns away from the swampy land down on the north side of the crick.”
Carrie jolted out of her shock. “I’ll check on the pigs.”
Laura nodded. “I reckon Josh knows not to let the little ones go down to the swamp in the heat of summer.”
Conner’s cabin had been silent all night. Emma slumped on her bench, exhausted from her two days with them, watching the Conner children’s fevers continue unabated. Their breathing rasped and slowed. Finally, they grew even more pale, as if that were possible. Just before sunrise, Mr. Conner dressed in the corner walled off by a blanket hung for privacy, and without speaking or looking at his children, left the cabin to his chores.
Prairie Hearts Page 11
