Chapter 17 #2
Kate’s heart broke anew. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“I can’t lose her too!” he cried out, frantic, eyes wide.
“I know, I know,” Kate said. She stroked little Davie’s limp curls as fresh tears coursed down her face.
James bowed his head over his son’s still body.
He laid a gentle kiss on Davie’s forehead.
“You’re no longer in pain, my little one.
Mama and Papa will see you up in heaven in a little while, all right?
Say hi to Jesus for me.” James took a shuddering breath.
“Please, Lord, take care of him for us. Tell him it’ll be all right and that we love him.
We love him so much.” He turned to Kate, eyes filled with haunted agony. “Will you help me bury him?”
Kate nodded, unable to speak.
They buried Davie on the side of the trail as the first rays of the sun broke over the eastern hills.
Aaron spoke words over the tiny bundle as they laid him in the ground.
Kate played a hymn, the strains of the melody merging with the gentle song of the waking prairie, lifting their grief to the sun.
By the grace of God, James gathered up his wagon and left that small mound of fresh soil under the vast blue sky. Maria was still delirious with fever.
Two days later they had buried four more, including Old Man Thomas.
“I’m sorry, Kate. I did all I could,” Jacob said. His eyes were red-rimmed in exhaustion and grief.
Kate heaved a weary sigh. “I know you did, Jacob. Thanks for tryin’.”
“I just wish I could stop it somehow. It ain’t fair.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know. Believe me, I know. But we’re never promised that life would be fair. And whether it is or not, the Lord still has us in His hands. I gotta trust that some good can come of this.”
His hands clenched into fists. “People are dyin’, Kate. What good can come of that?”
“His ways are higher than our ways. It doesn’t mean He doesn’t care.”
“Seems to me like He don’t care too much ’bout what happens down here. Seems like we’re on our own.”
Kate’s sorrow-filled heart wilted further. He just couldn’t see. “You are never alone, Jacob.” His jaw clenched and he looked away. She laid a hand on his arm. “If you don’t believe God cares, at least believe that I do.”
Jacob let out a breath and she felt his muscles relax as he uncurled his fists. He looked at her, his deep blue eyes filled with something that warmed her down to her toes. “Now that’s an easy thing to do,” he said softly. Her heart hitched. He gazed at her for a long moment. “What can I do?”
She smiled, trying to imbue it with all the appreciation she felt. Even struggling with his own frustrated questioning, he could still set it all aside to care about the people around him. Grateful tears pricked at her eyes. “Help James,” she said.
“That I can do,” Jacob said. He laid a hand over hers and gave it a little squeeze. “You should get some rest. You look done wore out.”
“I’ll try,” she said. But she knew she couldn’t rest. Not yet. Not until they were through this.
Kate and her father barely slept, working day and night.
Danny and Ian, strong and healthy to begin with, struggled out of the fever mightily.
They recovered enough to drive the wagon and look after their mother, freeing Kate to help Maria.
And all the while, Proctor pushed the train at a backbreaking pace, refusing to listen to their pleas to stop.
How she hated that man! But what could they do?
If they stayed behind, they risked Indian attack, or simply getting lost in the wilderness until starvation or calamity took them.
Resentment boiled in Kate’s heart. Her anger fueled her, pushed her to keep going through the alarms of exhaustion her body was sending her. Ma hadn’t been lucid in four days.
It was the evening of the eighth day since the sickness had struck.
Pa hadn’t slept since the night before last. Kate had to nearly push him to bed, but he was asleep next to his feverish wife in seconds, his deep snores in stark contrast to her shallow, labored breathing.
Kate checked her mother’s temperature for the umpteenth time.
No change. She was getting weaker. Tears blurred her vision.
What more could she do? She raised a hand to her aching head.
Her forehead was hot and dry. Please, Lord, she prayed. Please help us!
She took the last of her mint leaves and made her way through the twilight to the Leightons’ camp.
Her feet caught on tufts of grass; there was a deep ache in her bones that sank its teeth into her soul like a gnawing creature feeding on the last of her strength.
Jesus, help me. The prayer repeated over and over in her mind, a mantra she clung to by her fingertips, the last of her will funneled into those three aching words. Jesus, help me.
Kate found James sitting next to his wife, his head to his chest, fast asleep.
Kate put a hand on Maria’s brow, her movements mechanical, her arms like lead.
How many times had she done that this week?
Her heart jolted in surprise. She checked again.
Maria’s brow was damp with sweat and far cooler than it had been in days.
She gasped out a sob. Kate checked her heartbeat, her breathing.
Weak, but steady and clear. Thank you, Jesus!
Tears of relief spilled down her cheeks.
Maria was going to be all right. She gently shook James awake and left Maria in his gentle hands.
Back at her own camp, she found Danny and Ian asleep by the fire, plates of supper only half finished.
Danny still had a spoon in his limp hand.
How long had it been since she’d last eaten?
She took off their boots and covered her brothers with their blankets.
Her arms were weak. Her hand ached. She could barely think.
She stood swaying by the fire. Kate wanted to just lie down, to let go of all the responsibility and grief and sleep for a week.
But she couldn’t. Not until Ma got better.
She couldn’t seem to think clearly. Her mind felt shrouded in a fog of exhaustion, thoughts slipping out of her grasp like sand.
What did she need? Water. Ma needed water or she wouldn’t get better.
Kate closed her eyes against a new wave of pain in her head.
Her bones ached. Her entire body felt like it was in a vise.
She took a deep breath, opened her grainy eyes, and picked up the water bucket.
The creek seemed so far away. One step in front of the other.
Sounds faded. The night grew dark, and she kept walking, only one lucid thought in her mind. Water. She didn’t know how long she stumbled out into the night before she finally splashed unawares into the creek, her feet suddenly cold and wet. Then her vision swam, and she fell into blackness.