A Promise for Ellie (34 page)

Elizabeth held a spoon to Ellie’s mouth. She opened and swallowed.

“Good, now again.” Three times and then she broke into coughing, choking, and gagging.

Elizabeth set the cup and spoon down. Then with Andrew holding Ellie upright, she cupped her hand and thumped on the girl’s back. “I saw this done once, the theory being to break loose the con- gestion in her lungs. Think of tiny sacs that hold air. Right now they are filled with fluid and infection, so they can’t hold air. I saw them. The lungs work like bellows—inhale and the bellows expand; exhale and they deflate. With all that fluid in there, they can do neither. Right now she’s breathing with a very small part of her lungs.”

Ellie started coughing again and spit out a clump of phlegm.

“Good girl. Let’s get it out.” Elizabeth continued with the thumping. “At least there seems to be something I can do. Good thing you are such a healthy young woman, dear Ellie.”

Ellie collapsed back against Andrew, her mouth open, struggling for every breath.

Elizabeth propped the pillows behind her. “I think she can breathe easier sitting up. Make sure she stays this way.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be back in a while. Oh, Astrid said your mother will be coming over to relieve you in a bit. You should go get some sleep.”

“But, I—”

“Andrew, I do not need another sick person on my hands. Ellie will need you even more later. Thank God your father got you out of the barn when he did, or you’d be in the same shape.”

“Any change?” Ingeborg asked a bit later when she entered the room.

Andrew shook his head. “Elizabeth thinks so, but I don’t know.” He squeezed Ellie’s hand. And when she squeezed back, he gave his mother half a smile. “She knows I’m here.”

“I’m sure she does. She’s not deaf, and it’s a good thing if she doesn’t try to talk.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. You go get some sleep. I’ll be right here.” Ingeborg settled into the chair Elizabeth had vacated and stared at Andrew on the other side of the bed.

“Come on, Andrew, you heard Mor.” Thorliff spoke from the doorway. “You’ll sleep better if you take this other room. And my wife gave me this to give to you.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, but if I were you, I’d just drink it down. One thing I’ve learned, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of Dr. Elizabeth.” He emphasized the doctor part. He handed the glass to his brother. “Come along now.”

“Did she send you in here after me?”

“Andrew, I need to explain something to you as one older and wiser brother to a younger and sometimes more bullheaded brother.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but he stood and followed Thorliff.

“Take your medicine,” his mother called gently after him.

I’ve been taking it for some time now. But I’m not seeing that taking
my medicine has had any effect on Ellie
. He glanced over his shoulder.

Ellie was smiling. Not a big smile but enough to make curves in her cheeks. If he had to dance on the ceiling, he’d do it if he could make her smile again. He took the glass Thorliff proffered and gulped it down. He hardly got his boots off before he fell back on the bed, sound asleep.

“He’s sleeping.” Elizabeth returned to the sickroom sometime later.

“What did you give him?”

“Let’s just say he will sleep for a while. He needs it too. Smoke in your lungs like that is no joke. How’s Haakan?”

“Still coughing once in a while, but I think he’ll be fine.”

“Let’s see if we can get some more broth into Ellie.”

Ingeborg laid the back of her hand on Ellie’s cheek. “She’s running a fever.”

“I know, but so far she’s holding her own. You prop her, and I’ll feed.”

The two women worked well together, almost reading each other’s mind. While Ingeborg held Ellie upright and forward, Elizabeth thumped on her back again. After the coughing subsided, they bathed Ellie in cool water, changed the sheets, and settled her against the pillows again.

When Ingeborg took her hand, Ellie squeezed it. Her eyes fluttered as if to open, but with a slight shake of her head she drifted back to sleep. Ingeborg took her knitting out of the bag she’d brought and settled back in the chair. Picking up where she’d left off, she lent herself to the ancient rhythm of flying needles and yarn.

“What are you making?”

“A sweater for Andrew for Christmas. He’s filling out in the shoulders so much that everything is getting tight on him.”

Elizabeth adjusted the pillows behind Ellie again to keep her as upright as possible. “Watch that she remains like this. She’ll breathe more easily.”

“I will. I wish I’d known that for some of my patients through the years.”

“I am so thankful that I insisted on going to medical school and then was able to work with Dr. Morganstein in Chicago. She was so wise in patient care, partly because she saw so many patients. I wish I could ask her what else we could do for Ellie.”

“Praying is the most important thing we can do.”

“You know, it is easy to overlook that. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Pastor Solberg will be by, so we’ll all pray together. But Jesus said ‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.’ ”

“You used a different verse another time. ‘Where two or three agree’—wasn’t it something about ‘I will do it’?”

“Close. He said all we have to do is ask.”

“But what if . . .” Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. “I know too much. It is hard for me to have the faith to believe God will heal, and yet I know that He does. Does that make any sense?”

“He said faith as big as a mustard seed was all that was needed to move mountains into the sea.”

“Sometimes I think mountains might be easier than lungs full of fluid.”

Ingeborg laid her knitting needles down. “So we shall pray for your faith too, for faith for all of us, for peace for Andrew, for healing for our dear girl here. Lord God, you know us so well, inside and out.

You see Ellie’s lungs, and you know how to make her well again. We thank you that you said you would give us what we ask for.” She paused and blew out a breath. “Holy Ghost, breath of life, breathe your life into Ellie’s lungs and her entire body.” The peace in the room settled like a benediction of love.

“Lord, help me to believe when I doubt. Remind me again what you’ve done in the past.”

Pastor Solberg joined them from the doorway. “And help us, Father, to trust you with those we love. For you are our God and our King, our Father and our healer. To you alone we give all the praise and glory. Amen.”

Ingeborg sat with her head bowed.
Father, my Father, giver of all
good things. Thank you. Mange takk
. She heard Pastor Solberg cross the room and felt him by her chair. Felt him kneel beside the bed and take Ellie’s hand in his.

“Ellie, we are believing for you, and if you can hear me, let me remind you of the faith you live by. The faith that says God is mightier than any sickness, that Jesus died and rose victorious so that we might live, both eternally and on this earth.” He smoothed her hand, then her forehead. “Dear child, I’ve seen you grow into such a beautiful young woman, beautiful inside and out. Now we command that Satan take his attack away, that he leave you alone, for you are a daughter of the King of Kings. You are free of him and free of this illness, for Jesus said so.” He stood and leaned against the windowsill.

A breeze lifted the curtains and wafted across the bed.

Ingeborg opened her eyes and smiled up at her longtime friend.

“Thank you. As always you know just how to pray.”

“You were doing a fine job before I came. Are you taking turns tonight?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Andrew is sleeping now.”

“I’ll be back before daybreak, then, but if you need me, send for me immediately.” He patted his pocket and withdrew a telegram.

“This came from Olaf.” He handed it to Ingeborg, who read it aloud. “Goodie is sick Stop Can’t come now Stop Praying Stop Olaf.”

Elizabeth looked over at Ingeborg and then back to the pastor. “You know what? I have a feeling that all will be well. I believe Ellie is breathing more easily already. We’ll let Olaf know, so they don’t worry so.”

“I’ll be praying.”

“Good night, and thank you for coming.” Ingeborg listened to him leave, the screen door shutting softly behind him. “He and I’ve sat many a vigil.”

“He’s a fine man.”

“Yes, he is. God has taken some and healed others. I finally had to realize that all were healed, just some on this side of the grave and some on the other side. You go on to bed, dear. I’ll be here until you or Andrew come back.”

“Or Thorliff.”

“All right.”

Ingeborg knitted until her eyes grew weary. She fixed Ellie’s pillows and forced her to take spoonfuls of water. She laid her hands on Ellie’s chest and prayed again for the loosening of the sickness in her lungs. She changed the warm dry cloths for cool wet ones every hour or so. Each time picking up her knitting again, she hummed along with the ticking needles.

“Ma?”

“No, dear Ellie. It is Ingeborg. Please don’t try to talk.”

Ellie nodded.

“Is there something you need?”

Another nod. “A-a-and . . .” she croaked.

“Drink this, and then I’ll tell you all I can.”

Ellie took several spoonfuls, her swallowing painful and slow.

“Good girl. Now, Andrew is sleeping. He has been coughing too, but he is well. Just worried about you.”

Another half smile.

“This will make you laugh, I hope, but please don’t. The rooster and four hens survived the fire. You saved them.”

Ellie’s eyes opened, not much, but she blinked her pleasure and squeezed Ingeborg’s hand before falling back to sleep.

Andrew stumbled in sometime later, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head. He sank to the floor by the bed and took Ellie’s hand while his mother told him what had happened. Laying his cheek against their clasped hands, he sighed. “I wish she’d be awake when I’m here.”

“She will be.” Ingeborg reminded him to change the cooling cloths and force Ellie to drink more water if she stirred. “And, Andrew, you must pray for her to be well. The Bible says the prayer of a good man availeth much. You are that good man, and you must continue to pray for her.”

Andrew nodded, but she could feel something. His anger or resistance?
What is it, Lord?
She laid her hand on his shoulder, then made her way to the other room to lie down on the bed Andrew had left.

“Lord, she is either on the mend or . . .” She refused to consider the “or” and let her body and mind both drift into peaceful slumber, her prayers for Andrew floating heavenward.

Andrew kept his vigil just as his mother had told him, but every time he tried to pray, the words stuck in his throat. And in his mind.

Lord, I can’t even pray!
He felt like running outside and shouting at the heavens.
Why can’t I pray? I want Ellie to live. I want to pray
.

When Elizabeth relieved him, he went outside and sat on the front porch, his head in his hands.
I can’t even pray for the woman I
love. What kind of man am I?
When the sun lightened the horizon, he checked on Ellie one more time and headed home. At least he could milk cows.

O
H, ANDREW,
if only I could talk with you
.

Through half-opened eyes Ellie watched him as he sat by the bed. Where had her Andrew gone, and who was this stranger—this man who was gnawing on his knuckles, watching her for any sign, his shoulders so tight, his voice still raspy? When he took her hand, she squeezed back and tried to smile. She started to say something, but Elizabeth’s orders still rang in her ears.

“No talking.”
The slightest effort brought on paroxysms of coughing that ripped her throat and fired her lungs. She gagged and spit and spit and gagged. But she knew she was on the mend.

“Ellie?”

She nodded.
How could a nod feel like such an effort?
As did a smile. But she smiled anyway—sort of.

He held her hand against his cheek, his eyes bright with tears. “You aren’t going to die.”

I know that, but do you? What is it, Andrew? Elizabeth told you the
crisis has passed. I am doing all I can to get better. Yes, I did a dumb thing,
but . . . but I think more than that is troubling you
. All the thinking and trying to understand made her fall asleep again. Everything was such an effort, and sleep was the only way out.

When she woke again, dusk had painted the outside dim, like looking through fine cheesecloth. The fragrance of roses drifted in on the breeze through the window. She wanted to inhale the perfume but sniffed gently instead, letting the rich scent linger in her nose. Elizabeth had told her repeatedly to breathe deeply, to get as much air as possible down into her ravaged lungs, but when she did she choked and coughed.

For a change she was alone. Usually she woke to find someone sitting in the chair by her bed, reading, knitting, even sleeping. A small schoolmarm bell sat on the table, and she was to ring it if she needed anything.