Chapter Thirty-Two
Heath arrived at Estacado around midnight in a driving downpour. His clothes were plastered to his body and he had doubts he’d ever be able to get warm again. But that was the least of his worries. His thoughts were on his beloved Eden.
If he didn’t make it back in time…
Stop it. He pushed that possibility from his mind. He’d find the doctor and ride like a crazed man back to the Malloy farm. He didn’t believe God would take that sweet babe from them. Rachel was technically Eden’s mother and Heath felt every bit like the babe’s father. His heart overflowed with love for both of his ladies.
A rivulet of rain spilled from the brim of his hat into his lap. He shivered against the cold. But he kept riding.
As expected Estacado was dark, not a light burning anywhere. He paused in the main street, looking for the doctor’s shingle. When lightning split the sky, he finally saw a sign that read Dr. William Hunt and urged Buttermilk in that direction.
Springing from the saddle, he pounded on the door. Several minutes passed before a woman opened it and peered out at him.
“I apologize for waking you, ma’am. I need the doctor.”
“I’m sorry, sir, he’s over at the Jessop’s place.”
“It’s extremely urgent. If you can tell me how to find the Jessop’s, I’ll ride on over there.”
Mrs. Hunt provided the directions and closed the door. Heath mounted up and took the path she said. He must’ve ridden two miles before he came to the house. A flickering candle burned in the window of a soddy.
Mrs. Jessop handed him a hot cup of coffee while he explained the situation to Dr. Hunt.
“Sounds like the same thing this youngster here has,” Dr. Hunt said. “We’d best be riding. An infant that young won’t last long.”
The doctor went to gather his bag and supplies. Heath took advantage of the few minutes to hurriedly finish his coffee. By the last gulp he felt a tad warmer and his spirits bolstered.
Everything was going to be all right now.
Dr. Hunt returned with his black bag. “Let’s go.”
Rain beat against the side of the house like an angry beast clawing to get inside.
Rachel barely heard it. Her attention was on the limp babe in her arms. “No! I won’t let you have her!”
She couldn’t, no she wouldn’t bury another person she loved. No more.
A rag doll Sally had made for the babe out of scraps of material drew her gaze. Eden might never play with it.
Her heart broke into a million jagged pieces. It was too much. Too much grief. Too much pain. The unforgiving land had taken everything and everyone and left her broken and alone. She had no more strength. She was finished.
Then Eden coughed.
What a blessed sound. It didn’t matter that the cough came from deep inside the babe. She wasn’t dead. Not yet. And Rachel would do everything she could to keep it that way.
Chills wracked Eden’s fragile body. Rachel wrapped her tightly in a blanket and held Eden to her chest. She prayed and rocked and sang through the long night. Memories of another time not long ago with her sister Alice came unbidden to her mind. She wouldn’t let herself think about that fateful night. She refused to let the ghosts determine this outcome.
When she paused in her singing, she realized the rain had stopped. “Thank you, God.”
Hopefully, Heath would arrive soon with the doctor. She got up and walked to the window to stare out at the breaking dawn.
Suddenly she heard an amazing sound. It was the white dove cooing by the window. She remembered what the circuit preacher had said. Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark.
Their omen.
For the first time since Eden had taken ill, hope rose that everything would be all right. A gentle quiet peace filled her.
Horses galloped into the yard. She placed the baby in her crib and grabbed the rifle.
“Rachel, open the door,” Heath yelled. “I have the doctor.”
Her knees shook as she put down the rifle and threw back the bolt and rushed into Heath’s arms. “I’m so glad to see you.” Then, she caught sight of the weary man behind Heath and stepped back. “Thank you for coming, Doctor. This way.”
She showed him to the crib and stood by anxiously. She didn’t realize Heath was near until his arm slipped around her shoulders. His warmth filled all the cold frightened spots.
The doctor turned. “Get some water boiling fast. We don’t have a second to waste.”
Rachel whirled and raced to the small kitchen area. She added some wood and got a fire going while Heath pumped water into a large pot. Once that was done they returned to the bedroom.
The doctor had kindly eyes that appeared larger than normal because of the wire-rimmed spectacles he wore. His wrinkled face told of many nights like this one too numerous to count. He’d removed his black coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as though preparing for battle against some unknown foe.
“What are we dealing with, Dr. Hunt?” Heath asked quietly.
“Influenza,” he answered grimly. “I don’t wish to alarm you but it’s almost always fatal in one so young.”
Rachel sucked in a breath. That meant Eden contracted it from Becca. She’d known better than to let Becca anywhere near Eden that day. It was all Rachel’s fault. She was to blame for her baby daughter lying near death’s door.
Tears blurring her vision, Rachel stumbled out into the damp dawn that was just breaking. She didn’t know that Heath had followed her until he drew her against his broad chest.
“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. “I never should’ve let Becca hold her. If Eden dies it’ll be on my hands.”
“Shhhh!” He tenderly smoothed back her hair and drew a finger across her cheek. “I share equally in the blame. I assured you it would be fine. We didn’t know Becca would make Eden sick. Besides, Eden isn’t going to die. Dr. Hunt will fix her up.”
“What if he can’t? Doctors aren’t miracle workers. Sometimes they can’t fix things. Sometimes people die despite everything.” A sob broke free.
“I know because I had a long talk with the Lord as I rode for help. I know He’s looking down and seeing our every need.”
Rachel clutched the sleeve of his shirt and for the first time realized that his clothes were soaked through. He hadn’t given a thought to his own discomfort. His only thought was on Eden and what she’d needed.
“You best find some dry clothes and tend the horses.” The poor drenched things were still standing by the front door where Heath and the doc had left them.
He put his arm around her waist. “Let’s see if that water’s boiling first. Don’t know about you but I’m kinda curious what the doctor wants with it. And I’m sure he’s wondering where we disappeared to.”
“Heath, you’re my rock. If you weren’t around, I think I’d fly off to the far corners of the world. You ground me.”
“Any time, pretty lady. Can’t have you flying off.”
Kissing her nose, he opened the door for her. She paused for a minute, her gaze scanning the lake and trees and sky that had turned from indigo to pink and lavender. She seemed to be waiting for something but she didn’t know what.
Just then the sun’s glorious golden rays spilled into the canyon, reflecting on the rock walls and banishing the chill in the damp air. Amid the newborn rays, a dove took wing.
It was God’s promise to her.
Hope sprang into her heart as a calm peace drifted over her crowding out the fear and utter despair.
Drawing a deep breath into her lungs, Rachel turned to do what she could to help.