Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Travis knelt next to Jonas’s bedside with swollen, heavy eyes.
He was careful not to surrender to sleep, for fear his son would take his final breath.
The longer he stayed awake, the longer he could hear his son breathing.
The day before, Jonas looked so healthy as he and Gideon played with wooden farm animals.
That day had been perfect, sitting in front of the fireplace as a full family.
But nothing could have prepared him for this agonizing moment.
Their life was no longer blissful and whole as they now were all separated, praying for dear life that Jonas could make it another day.
Jonas’s tiny chest moved up and down, his eyelids closed and glistening from the oil lamp.
His sun-kissed skin had turned icy pale, his body appearing smaller, nearly swallowed by the layers of coverings draped over him.
Travis touched his son’s face. The fever was still present.
Jonas had survived the night, but the worst was far from over.
Travis stared at the inflamed red rash beneath the boy’s ear. As long as it remained, there was a possibility Jonas would succumb to the disease. Travis wrung out the rag that rested in the basin of cold water and pressed it against the boy’s face. Jonas let out a soft moan.
“Lord, please heal my poor boy. Spare him, I beg you. He’s just a child,” Travis whispered with full desperation in his heart.
The agony of his son’s suffering made him explode into tears. Travis wasn’t sure how much more loss he could take. At ten, he lost his father, which marked the beginning. When Travis lost his uncle and cousins, it made him feel as though he’d be lonely for the rest of his life.
Until Sophie. They vowed until death parted them, but Travis never thought that death would be a decade later. The thought of almost losing Josie had pushed him to the brink, and now, he faced the terrifying possibility of losing his son. Jonas was too feeble and young to succumb to such a disease.
A knock at the door interrupted Travis’s thoughts, followed by the soft sound of footsteps that he believed to be Josie’s.
“His fever hasn’t broken yet,” Travis muttered, his hands folded in front of him.
Josie sat beside him and set down a tray of tea.
“We can’t give up hope yet. He made it through the night, and the least we can do is have faith.
” She poured a cup and handed it to Travis.
“Aunt Polly just brewed this—willow bark tea. It’ll help bring the fever down. Lift his head so we can have him sip.”
Travis lifted Jonas’s head. “Jonas, take a few sips of this tea. It will help you get better.”
The boy cracked his eyes open just a quarter of the way and took a few sips.
Travis gently rubbed the back of Jonas’s head, feeling the sweat dampen his curls.
After swallowing, Jonas coughed a few times before whimpering.
As Travis prepared to lay him back down, Josie quickly fluffed the pillows.
Although the child’s breathing had returned to a more normal rhythm, he was still very much unwell.
“Travis, are you all right?” Josie asked, her hand on his back.
Travis sighed, rubbing his eyes. Exhaustion still took a toll over his body, his vision growing hazier by the minute.
All he wanted was to rest, but he knew he had to remain by his son’s side.
Jonas needed his pa with him; it was essential for his recovery.
Simply being there might give the boy the strength to fight.
“It’s nothing. I’m just tired is all.”
Josie sat on the bedside, cupping his face in her cold hands. Travis jolted as a shiver ran up his spine. She rested a hand over his forehead, rubbing it softly. “Are you sure? You don’t look too well.”
“W-What do you mean?” Travis pulled her hand away and folded his arms at his chest. “I’m fine. I’m just exhausted from sitting here, waiting for my son to heal.”
“Your eyes just look a little glassy.” Her expression darkened, the color draining from her face as her lips parted.
“What is it?” Travis asked anxiously, his pulse rising.
Josie swallowed, her gaze firm. She clasped his forearm. “Travis, you need to lie down. I’ll look after Jonas.”
Travis shook his head. “No, I’m staying here. I’m just exhausted. All will pass when Jonas’s fever breaks.”
“I need you to lie down now, please. I beg you to get some rest.”
“I won’t,” Travis snapped. He hugged himself tighter to preserve warmth. His thoughts drifted back to the time he left his father laboring in the fields while he ran off to play with a stray dog. He’d grown weary of the endless harvesting and dismissed his father’s sharp scolding to keep working.
“Your father’s heart gave out,” Mama explained when Travis came home to a crowded home and sorrowful cries. Travis bit into his lower lip and shook his head. No more breaks. He would never rest again.
“How would you feel if this was Nathan, hm? Let me stay with my son.” Travis leaned and buried his face into Jonas’s feeble hand.
“I understand what you mean, but you are catching the fever.” Josie paused, and Travis’s mouth parted as he sat straight up. Fever? That couldn’t be true. He was exhausted; that was all.
“You can stay here and worry about Jonas, but I won’t risk the children not having a father.” Josie’s voice turned more serious than Travis had ever heard. “If you don’t, I will drag you there myself.”
Travis peered down at Jonas. He couldn’t leave him. He’d give his own life if it meant he could live.
“I let my father die,” Travis croaked. His eyes burned. “I ran off during harvest and never told my him goodbye. I can’t abandon Jonas for rest—”
Josie stood and touched Travis’s shoulder. “None of that was your fault, and Jonas is going to be fine. I have faith in it.”
Travis’s throat clenched. It had been his fault. All his fault.
Josie cupped his face in her hands, tuning him to her. She brushed her knuckles down his cheek. “I vow to you that I will never leave his side. You can stay in the bed next to him, too. You must rest, please. Do this for your other children who love you with their whole hearts.”
Travis took Josie’s hand and kissed her palm.
Tears trickled down his cheek, glistening against her skin.
Travis didn’t feel too terrible, but he yearned for rest. He wasn’t sure if fatigue had set in yet or if he was simply too preoccupied with worry over Jonas to notice.
Perhaps he could lie down for a few hours and then tend to his son again.
Sleep beckoned him, a siren call he found increasingly hard to resist.
“I’ll rest for a few hours, but I’m coming back to his side. He needs me.”
Josie nodded with softness in her eyes, her thumb brushing across his skin. “I know, and I will look after him the best I can.”
She rose from the bed, pulled fresh sheets from the children’s drawers, and made the empty bed. The girls’ bed was small, but Travis was grateful it was close. As soon as he closed his eyes, a wave of relief washed over him.
Rest. Sweet rest.
The pain in Josie’s breasts intensified as another hour went by without caring for Nathan.
He was constantly on her mind, and she worried endlessly about his health.
Was he sick? Was he overcome with worry?
Was he missing her? There hadn’t been any correspondence from Rose, but that had been their arrangement.
They had strictly agreed not to make contact until Jonas was better, but now that Travis had contracted the fever, she was unsure when that would be.
Josie and Aunt Polly spent the day burning the blankets and clothes that had been used before and during the illness.
Outside, Josie set a pot to boil for washing dishes and utensils.
On top of that, she brewed willow bark tea while keeping a watchful eye on her husband and son.
She and Aunt Polly tried to take turns, but Josie could hardly bring herself to leave their sides.
Aunt Polly kept to the main room unless she was needed.
She spent every hour cooking, cleaning, and keeping the fireplace going.
Exhaustion wore at Josie’s limbs as she sat between the two beds, but she had to stay strong.
She couldn’t let history repeat itself—not when she had been a helpless sixteen-year-old who knew nothing but how to throw parties and socialize.
It had been all her fault she couldn’t care for her family properly.
This time, she’d do everything in her power to heal her new family.
Josie filled a cup with cold water just as Travis stirred, his eyelids fluttering.
He groaned softly, struggling to sit up.
She moved beside him and gently lifted his head before pulling another pillow behind him to support his posture.
Bringing the water to his lips, she set her hand behind his head to steady him.
He winced as he swallowed, followed by a harsh cough.
Josie remembered the day she had the fever and how hard it was for her to swallow.
Her tonsils had felt like they were on fire, and her head had throbbed with pain.
Her eyes had been so swollen that she could barely open them.
“Travis, are you all right? Are you in pain?”
Travis sank into the mattress and shook his head. “Just . . . sleep,” he whispered weakly.
Josie gently pulled the covers to Travis’s chin and froze.
A rash had formed along the base of his neck.
A gasp escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth, desperately trying to restrain her tears.
All this time, she had clung to the possibility that it was merely exhaustion, but now reality sank in.
There was a chance her husband might be taken from her.
Travis was too good for her; she should be lying in bed with a deadly disease instead. His once-tan complexion was turning paler by the minute, and he almost resembled a corpse. Josie fought against those dark thoughts. This couldn’t happen.
She knelt beside Travis’s bed as he drifted off into a deep sleep, a sleep Josie wasn’t sure he’d wake from. Folding her shaking hands together, she closed her eyes, saying a prayer with the most faith she could muster.
“Lord, please forgive me for these sorrowful thoughts. I want to have all the faith I can in You, but the past of mine comes back to haunt me, tempting me to think the worst. I know You have the ability to heal.”
Josie looked down at Travis’s hand, intertwining her fingers in his. His pulse was slower than usual, but Josie tried to focus on the good. His chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath. He was still alive, and there was still hope.
“Lord, I know I haven’t been the best wife to this man through my deceptions, but I know you have forgiven me as Travis has. I ask you now, with the humbleness in my heart, that You’d heal the man and boy I love more than life itself. Whatever Your will is, let it be done.”
In another situation, Josie would gasp at her sudden declaration.
She looked down at Travis’s pale face, plastered with sweat.
She loved this man. She genuinely loved him.
Josie shifted her gaze to Jonas across the room, still sleeping in his bed.
He was alive, too. He had just enough of a chance as Travis did.