“Oh, Jacob.” She smoothed his hair again. “Won’t you wake up?” She sighed and ran the back of her fingers across his cheek. “Please be okay.” Jacob’s eyelids fluttered and opened. He stared up with glazed eyes. “Jacob!” Greta’s voice came out in a ragged whisper. His arm reached up to her. She grabbed his hand with both of hers and squeezed. “You are going to be all right.”
“Greta? Is that you?”
“Ja, it is me.” She felt tears form as Jacob stared into her eyes.
“I have been looking for you.”
“I have been here.”
“No. I have not been able to find you. I have been looking.” Jacob frowned. A look of confusion passed over his face. “Greta? Greta, where are you?”
“Shhhh. Jacob. It is the fever talking. I am right here.”
“Greta? Where are you? I cannot find you.”
“Shhhh.” She pulled his hand to her cheek and held it there. His rough skin burned against her soft face. “I am here.” She dropped her voice so that Frena could not hear. “I will always be here.” She kept his hand pressed against her cheek and leaned closer. “I promise you, Jacob. I will always be here.”
The front door opened and a ray of sunlight fell across the dirt floor. Catrina flounced into the cabin and held up a packet of sugar with a victorious expression on her face. Greta cleared her throat and lowered Jacob’s hand. A cold draft blew in from the open door and she tucked the quilt around Jacob’s shoulders.
Catrina poured the precious white granules into Jacob’s pewter cup, stirred the mixture, and brushed Greta aside.
“Jacob, dear. Have a drink.” He fumbled at the cup as Catrina held it awkwardly to his lips. Catrina pouted and readjusted the cup. “This is not working. He does not even know that we are here. He is not going to drink this.”
“Let me try.”
Catrina shrugged and handed her the cup. “You will not be able to do any better.” Greta whispered into Jacob’s ear and then ran the back of her hand across his cheek. She remembered the song from the Ausbund that Jacob liked to hum as he worked and she began to sing it in a low, soft voice. The smell of woodsmoke and pine gave the room a familiar comfort as Greta’s song drifted across Jacob’s sickbed. Catrina watched through confused eyes, her smooth forehead creased.
Greta leaned closer to Jacob. This will work. I know that I can reach him. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. A muddled smile spread across his pale face. “Greta.” He reached for her. “Greta.”
“Jacob.” She held on to his warm, rough hand for a minute and then reached for the cup. “I need you to drink this. It will make you feel better.” She held the cup to his lips and he took a long, slow sip. “Good. Very good.” Greta watched his Adam’s apple bob and then pressed the cup against his lips again. “Take another sip.” Jacob swallowed once more and she smiled. “You will feel better soon. I am sure of it.”
Catrina hovered behind the bench and Greta could feel the woman’s blue eyes burning into the back of her head. “How did you do that?” Her voice sounded small and unsure.
Greta shrugged. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Greta recognized a fragile, uncertain look in Catrina’s expression. She cannot understand how someone like me can do anything better than her. Greta looked down. I should remember her feelings.
“Now that he is awake, it is a good time to try and get some of that stew in him.”
“Ja! That would be good.” Catrina’s signature smile returned. “I will take care of it.” She glanced toward the hearth. “Grandmother, the stew is ready, ja?” Mrs. Witmer nodded, dipped the big wooden spoon in the cauldron, and ladled out a serving of broth. “Ja. Come and get it.” Greta lingered over Jacob while Catrina fetched the bowl. Greta touched his forehead again and gazed at his closed eyes. She remembered how those eyes had opened and looked for her as he called her name.
Greta heard Catrina walk away from the hearth and she slipped off the bench. I will not fight her for a place by Jacob’s sickbed. I have no more claim on him than she does—not yet, anyway! I can help him in other ways. Greta grabbed her cloak and wrapped the rough wool around her slim shoulders. She escaped out the door and wandered into the overgrown front yard. Jacob has not been able to tend to his chores. This kitchen garden needs harvesting. She stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the patch of dirt that Rose had trampled. I can take care of this. She nodded and felt a new sense of purpose. “I know that Catrina will not compete over that job!” Greta laughed, shook her head, and headed to the barn in search of a trowel and wooden bucket.
Greta knelt in the dirt and worked to loosen the stubborn soil with the sharp edge of the trowel, then tossed carrots into the bucket. She liked the satisfying plunk that each one made as it hit the wood. She plucked peas and dropped the pods atop the carrots. When she looked up, the sun hovered low in the sky and shadows fell across the yard with long, cold fingers. She wiped her forehead and stretched her back. “Almost finished getting the peas in.” Her body shivered as the sun disappeared below the tree line and a chill overtook the air.
The door to the cabin opened and Catrina stepped onto the porch. “Oh! I did not know that you were still here.”
“I thought I could save the last of the vegetables. Jacob has been too ill to harvest his kitchen garden.”
“Oh. I . . . I would not have thought of that.”
Greta waited for Catrina to criticize her dirt-stained apron and loose strands of hair. She tucked a stray curl under her prayer kappe and rose from her knees. Catrina stood in silence and Greta wished that she knew what the woman was thinking.
“How is he?”
“Not well. Grandmother is sending me for more sugar. She said that he needs to drink more of your yarrow tea.”
“You did not bring all of the sugar here before?”
“No, I thought . . .” Catrina’s face tightened. “I thought that I could save a little bit. For after he wakes up. Then he would appreciate it more.” She spread out her hands in a helpless gesture. “He won’t even remember this. But if I baked a pie for him after he gets better . . .”
“Then he would know to appreciate it and you would get credit for it. He would like you for it.”
Catrina frowned and smoothed her skirts. “I am not sure that is quite what I meant.”
“I think it is.” Greta shrugged. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, after all.”
Catrina smiled and looked away. “Ja.”
Greta started for the cabin door. “I will start another batch of tea.”
Catrina’s smile disappeared and she rushed to follow Greta inside. “I will ask Grandmother to go for the sugar. I don’t think that I can bear to leave him.”
Greta looked away. Is it that she cannot bear to leave him, or is it that she cannot bear to leave him with me? Could she feel threatened by me? Is that possible?
The bitter scent of yarrow mingled with woodsmoke and burned her nostrils as she entered the cabin.
“Grandmother, I just cannot bear to leave Jacob!” Catrina cut a sidelong glance at Greta and then looked back at the elderly woman. “Will you please fetch the sugar for me? Please?” Catrina clasped her hands together in an exaggerated gesture of supplication. Frena sighed and pushed herself up from the hearth. “I suppose I could use the fresh air.” She patted her forehead. “It is getting mighty hot by the fire.”
“Oh, thank you, Grandmother! I will take care of Jacob until you return.” Catrina rushed to the empty bench by Jacob’s bedstead while Greta put another log on the fire.
“Greta?”
“Ja?” She did not look up from her work.
“I do not know what to do for him.”
“It is all right.” Greta stopped and turned to Catrina. She forced a supportive smile. “Just keep the compress cool and keep an eye on his fever.”
Catrina frowned. “I have never made yarrow tea before. And I would never have thought to harvest a g
arden. How do you think of these things?”
Greta shrugged. “It is nothing, really. I just want to help and those are two things that I know how to do.”
“I know how to bake. That is what I do best. But that does not help in a situation like this. I feel so helpless.”
Greta poured water into the wash bucket. The liquid sloshed and splattered her apron. “Go ahead and put a fresh compress on his forehead while I rinse off this dirt. That will help him.” Greta plunged her hands into the cold water and scrubbed beneath her nails.
“Oh! Greta! He is terribly hot!” Catrina pulled her hand away from Jacob’s forehead as if she had been burned. Her mouth fell open. Greta leapt up from the hearth so fast that she knocked over the bucket. She caught her balance and dried her hands on her apron as she raced to Jacob’s bedside. Greta laid a cool palm across his forehead. She nodded. “This is serious. His fever is much too high. We have to get it down.” Jacob thrashed beneath the quilt and murmured words that she could not understand.
“What do we do?” Catrina turned to Greta with wide eyes. “What do we do?”
Greta took a deep breath. “Vinegar. And prayer. Keep praying for him.” Greta rushed to the corner of the cabin where Jacob stored dried herbs and cooking supplies. She picked through the jugs, popped off a cork, and sniffed. “There! I knew he would have some.” She grabbed the earthen jug, hurried back to Jacob, and snatched the compress from his forehead. Greta poured vinegar over the rag and shoved it back into Catrina’s hand. “Wrap his feet in this. It will draw the fever down from his brain.”
Catrina drew back the quilt and bound his feet in vinegar while Greta snatched the water bucket from the hearth. She ran back to the bedstead and sloshed water across Jacob’s face and chest. Catrina gasped and tried to pull the quilt back over him. “He will catch cold!”
Greta shook her head. “No. Let the water evaporate. It will cool him.”
Catrina hovered by the bedstead and wrung her hands. “I do not know what to do.”
“It will be all right. We are doing everything that can be done.” Greta’s hands moved with strength and purpose as she sponged his skin with cool water. Catrina bit her lip and stood in silence. Greta began to sing Jacob’s favorite hymn from the Ausbund, and the room filled with warmth. Jacob quit thrashing and his lips stopped moving. His hands loosened their sweaty grip on the quilt and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Greta felt his forehead again and let out a long, deep breath. “He is out of danger.”
Catrina began to cry.
“Don’t cry now! The danger is over.”
Catrina dabbed at her big blue eyes and sniffled. “It is just that I could not help. I did not know what to do. But you were so helpful! It came so naturally to you!” Catrina blew her nose into her handkerchief. “I do not understand how you did that.”
“We all have different gifts, Catrina. There are plenty of things that you can do that I cannot.”
Catrina smiled and raised her head a fraction. “Well, that is true.” She ran her fingers along the edge of her prayer kappe and made sure that every tendril of hair was in place. “There are a lot of things that Jacob appreciates about me. I was sure that he was about to propose before he got sick.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The days and nights blurred together as Greta, Catrina, and Frena nursed Jacob back to health. Greta warned Ruth to keep the twins away from the fever and the old woman watched over them until their foster mother could return. Catrina continued to coax Greta away from Jacob’s bedside. But her manner changed. She tried to imitate Greta’s gentle bedside demeanor and soft singing. Jacob did not respond to Catrina’s voice or touch. He remained locked in his own fevered world.
Greta steeped the last of the yarrow and watched Catrina fumble with the cold compress. Greta’s fingers ached to smooth Jacob’s brow. She needed to feel his quiet strength and hear the soft whisper of his breath.
“I cannot do this anymore.” Catrina dropped the rag into the bowl of water and stood up. “I give up. I may as well not even be here. He does not know any better.” She shook her head. “It does not do any good to sit here.”
Greta darted to the bench. “Then I will take a turn.”
Catrina shrugged and wandered to the hearth. She dropped onto the three-legged stool and stared into the fire. “He will not notice if you are here or not.”
Greta smiled. “I know that it does good to be here. Whether he remembers or not, I know that he can feel my presence beside him.”
Catrina frowned and looked back at Greta. “Oh.” She studied Greta’s placid expression. “But how do you know that?”
“I just know.” Greta settled beside Jacob, dipped the cold compress in the bowl of water, and wrung it out. She returned the freshened cloth to his forehead and began to hum as she studied the rise and fall of his chest. She pressed her hand against his cheek and the coolness of his skin shocked her. “His fever has broken.” She let out a long, hard sigh. “He is going to be all right.”
Catrina bolted up from the three-legged stool.
Jacob’s eyelids fluttered open. “Greta?”
“Yes.” She placed her hand on his. “I am here.” He struggled to sit up. “Shhh. Do not try and get up. You need to rest.”
“I have been sick, haven’t I?”
“Ja. Very sick. For three days now.”
“And you have been here, by my side the whole time.” He smiled weakly. “I remember hearing you sing. That is all that I can remember. Feeling so cold and confused and then hearing you sing. I thought that you were an angel.”
Greta looked down and shook her head. “It was only me, Jacob.” He reached up and touched her face, as if he did not believe that she was real. Their eyes met and locked on one another. Greta felt time stand still. Nothing existed but the intensity of his dark brown eyes.
Until Catrina flounced across the room. “Jacob! I was here too. Don’t you remember?” She giggled and batted her eyelashes. “Of course you do!”
Jacob furrowed his brow. He looked over to Catrina and nodded politely. “Ja. Of course.” His eyes moved back to Greta.
“We were so worried about you!” Catrina leaned forward to check his fever in a showy gesture. Greta sighed and stood up. “I will get you some stew. I am sure that you are hungry.” Jacob watched Greta walk to the cauldron and felt startled by her beauty. Was she always this graceful and self-assured? He pulled his eyes away from Greta as Catrina adjusted his pillows. Jacob stared at the woman’s perfect features, but his heart did not jump. His pulse did not quicken. He did not feel the joyful appreciation that filled him when he sensed the warmth that glowed from beneath Greta’s Plain attire.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember you being here.”
Catrina looked hurt. “I was. I made the stew. And I sat right here. For a long time.”
“You were here alongside Greta?”
Catrina shrugged. “Ja. I was here more than she was, truth be told. She left a lot. She spent an entire day looking for weeds. And digging around outside.”
“Weeds?”
Catrina shrugged again. “Yarrow.”
Jacob cut his eyes back to Greta. He watched her ladle a bowlful of stew and pour fresh water into his pewter cup. “Yarrow is not easy to find this time of year. That took some work.”
Catrina nodded. “Ja. Greta came back muddy as a piglet.” She giggled into her hand, but Jacob’s stern look cut her laughter short. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I sat here with you. Do you not remember?”
“No. All I remember is hearing songs from the Ausbund. And the smell of vinegar. I do remember that.”
Catrina wrinkled her nose. “Oh, that was Greta. She wrapped your feet in vinegar. She said something about drawing the fever down.” She shook her head. “I hate the smell of vinegar, don’t you?”
“Vinegar is good medicine. So is yarrow.” He turned his head toward Greta. “You are very handy, Greta.”
&n
bsp; Greta blushed and carried the bowl of stew to his bedside. “It was nothing.”
“You are wrong about that. I have you to thank for my recovery.”
Greta shook her head. “No. I just did what anyone would do.”
Jacob smiled. “It sounds as if you have worked very hard these three days.”
Greta blushed again. “Catrina’s grandmother stayed here as well. She just left to take care of some chores at her own cabin. She will be back soon.”
Catrina’s brow crinkled. “I was here too, you know.”
“Ja.” But Jacob kept his eyes on Greta as he answered Catrina.
“I . . . I . . .” Catrina stumbled over her words while she tried to think of what she had done for Jacob during his illness. “I helped make the stew. And I sat here. Jacob, are you listening to me? I just said that I sat here, on this bench.”
Jacob moved his eyes to Catrina and studied her pouty expression. She knows how to sit. That I have noticed. Catrina raised her chin and grabbed the bowl of stew from Greta’s hands. “Thank you, dear. I will help him with this. After all, I did make it.” Greta clenched her jaw. She knew that Catrina had only chopped a couple of carrots and watched her grandmother do the rest.
“I don’t need any help.” Jacob grimaced and shook his head. “Just hand me the bowl.” Greta tried to help him up, but Catrina took over that job too. Greta stepped back and counted to ten. She knew that she would lose her temper if she stayed in the same room with Catrina Witmer for one more second.
* * *
Greta slipped out of the cabin and into the sunlight. She breathed in the brisk air and rolled up her sleeves. I best fetch more water and carry in wood before nightfall. She tried not to think of the beautiful young woman inside the cabin with Jacob. She acts as if she nursed him through the sickness all by herself. Greta sighed. Well, I did not do it for thanks.
Where the Heart Takes You Page 19
