Chapter 25 #2
She stepped out on the front porch to watch the remaining light fall on Dark Hollow.
Standing still and surveying the area, her eyes fell upon a family of lynx.
Back in the woods, Bella and her partner were watching her on Bart’s porch, three kittens playing at their feet.
Molly settled in a chair on the porch and studied Bart’s family.
They were healthy, beautiful, and very focused on her.
Of course, they were worried about Bart too.
They hadn’t seen him for days. Beryl was still here.
And now a stranger with a new mule and a new dog had invaded their private valley.
Seeing Bella and her family caused her to think about Blitz.
She surveyed the surrounding trees until she saw a handsome Peregrine Falcon roosting in a tree about seventy five feet away.
Blitz was facing the cabin and studying her on the porch.
Molly looked around for a feeding station where Bart might put food for his hunting falcon, and found a platform not far from where Blitz was sitting.
Molly studied Blitz to see if she could determine gender.
She knew generally that female birds of prey were typically taller and heavier than the slender sleeker males.
She was looking at a magnificent, large, proud falcon.
She decided Blitz was female and that she’d treat her as such until she learned otherwise.
She got up very slowly, moved into the cabin, and sorted through the food supplies Evelyn and Betsy had packed for her.
She found a generous stash of beef sticks and a can of hash.
She cut up some beef and added it to a bowl of hash, and took several beef sticks out to the porch.
She stood quietly, showing the meat to Blitz and the bowl of hash to Bella and her family. All eyes were on her.
Leaving the hash on the porch, she walked very slowly to the platform and laid two pieces of beef on it.
She backed slowly away and retrieved the bowl of hash.
She walked as slowly as she could toward Bella, stopping when she saw Bella and her partner stand up.
Molly set the bowl on the ground, slowly retreating to the cabin.
She settled in her seat. After a few minutes, Blitz swooped down, retrieved both meat sticks, and took them back to the limb, holding them in her talons where she started pecking away at them.
Molly watched Bella for a few minutes and saw no movement.
She went inside the cabin, retrieved the pot of hot water from the stove top and replaced it with the mushroom soup.
She retrieved her toiletries and a towel and went outside to shower.
After pouring hot water in the shower tank, she stripped and stood under the shower until she was entirely wet.
She turned off the water and thoroughly soaped her body and shampooed her hair.
After two days and fifty miles on the trail, she needed this.
Completely soaped, she turned on the shower and let the warmish water rinse away the suds, running the shower until the water was gone.
She toweled off, walked inside, and put on clean clothes.
That felt good. She’d do laundry tomorrow.
She stepped out on the porch and saw the bowl for Bella was now empty and no lynx were in sight.
Blitz was still watching from her limb. Molly took two more pieces of meat to the platform.
This time, Blitz retrieved them before Molly was back to the porch.
The stove heated the cabin nicely. The small window in the stove put out a warm glow.
She ate the hearty soup in Bart’s chair in front of the stove, her feet on the bearskin rug, Shadow at her feet, Bear at Bart’s side.
The stove was warm. She felt clean and refreshed.
The light from the stove and oil lamp created a cozy warm space. She liked Bart’s cabin.
She’d made some progress on Bart’s condition but he was showing no signs of improvement. She had no idea if his body could fight the infection on its own. But she was confident his chances were improved with the IV and antibiotic. She just hoped she was using the right medicine.
At 8:00 p.m., she nervously took his fourth set of vitals and was crushed to see no improvement.
He was on the second bag of IV fluids and his second antibiotic.
The disappointment hit her harder than expected.
She just felt so helpless. Was she experimenting in a way that was not helpful?
Was her treatment having a negative effect?
She had no idea. How long was he going to be unresponsive?
Or was she going to sit down to take routine vitals and find a cold body?
The thought ripped her apart like a jagged knife.
The sickness was returning. She desperately felt like she had to do something.
But she needed to see improvement, and nothing was happening.
Bart was lying still with a weak pulse. Was he just hanging on?
It felt like he could slip away at any moment.
Molly took Bart’s hand and spoke softly. She didn’t do this very often, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Hey God, Molly foot-in-the-door here. Yeah, that’s right, you haven’t seen me in church and, yeah, you only hear from me when I want something.
Sorry about that. Very selfish of me.” She paused, taking a deep breath.
It’d been a long time since she’d prayed to her God.
“I hope along the way I’ve done some good things.
Maybe I’ve helped someone get to a better place.
Maybe I’ve got a little goodwill in the bank up there.
If I do, I’d like to call it in right now.
Bart could really use a boost. It feels like he’s hanging in the balance, like he could go either way.
He’s weak and his body is fighting something that’s hit him hard.
Real hard. I’m just thinking a little nudge could make a difference. It would be so appreciated.”
Molly felt a tear run down her cheek that she wiped away.
“Even if I don’t have anything in the bank, I’d like you to just think about Bart.
Three Silver Stars. The guy has eight bullet holes.
That happened when he put the life of others above his own.
That’s got to count for something. He’s a completely selfless guy.
And he’s really paying the price for his service.
I guess what I’m saying is that, even if I’ve been a complete failure, Bart on his own is worthy of your help. ”
Molly wiped another tear away.
“So, thank you, God, for any help you can push our way. It feels real lonely and isolated here right now. I wish I knew what I was doing. Just a little bump could make a big difference.” She paused. “And thank you for all you do for so many. Amen.”
Molly gave Bart’s hand a squeeze.
“Okay, big boy, I’m talking to you now. You’re a fighter.
An amazing fighter. I’m just asking that you fight your hardest right now.
I’m trying to do what I can but, honestly, I don’t have a clue.
I just don’t want to lose you right here.
I want you to get better so badly I can’t stand it.
So please keep fighting. You can do this.
I know you can. I’m right here and will be. Thank you.”
She squeezed his hand and wiped another tear from her cheek.
It was dark outside. The cabin was warm from the fire. She’d unpacked, showered, and eaten. She was exhausted physically and emotionally.
She filled the stove with wood and slipped into her sleeping bag, curling into a ball, as several more tears slid down her cheek.
She slept fitfully, waking often to check on Bart.
Each time, she was terrified she’d find a cold body.
But, instead, she found the status quo. She took his vitals twice, both times showing no change.
Each time, she added wood to the fire. The tension and sickness building in her body contributed to poor sleep and frightening images.
Her mind was playing games with her. She was fifty miles from civilization with a man who might be failing on her watch.
The responsibility was too much. Had she made a mistake to not bring help?
At what point should she call for an airlift?
Each time she awakened, she had a hard time getting back to sleep.
A deep and terrifying fear had a grip on her, and it was worse in the night when her mind was disoriented from the exhaustion, sleeping on the floor, being in a remote, lonely place, feeling helpless and vulnerable to so many elements.
What would she do if a bear broke the door down?
What if the same tick that bit Bart slipped into her sleeping bag and bit her?
What if both of them were incapacitated?
What if Bart didn’t wake up? Was she going to dig a grave and bury him in Deep Hollow?
How long before she knew how this was going to end?
She tossed and turned, confused, sick, and tormented until the morning light appeared through the windows.
The first set of vitals in the morning just about did her in.
She’d just been so sure that fourteen hours on IV and antibiotic was going to make a difference.
But his temperature had increased to 102.
7, and his blood pressure and heart rate were very weak.
The sickness hit her with a vengeance. She wanted to get to the outhouse but didn’t make it, stopping half way to throw up Evelyn’s delicious mushroom barley soup.
She leaned against a tree, weak and light headed.
She felt so helpless. Still sick, she threw up again and steadied herself.