Cindy Holby (7 page)

The drifting wasn’t as bad around the shed door. Plus she had the added benefit of it opening inward. The chickens stirred when she came in, raising sleepy heads and staring at her with their black beady eyes. Her little banty rooster rushed over to investigate the intrusion. He swelled up the speckled feathers on his chest and stretched his head up, trying with all his might to appear larger than he really was. “Go on Roscoe.” Leah nudged him with her foot and he strutted away with his shiny black tail feathers twitching with indignation.

Leah laughed at his antics and grabbed the dipper from the hook, stuck it in the bag and scattered feed on the floor. The hens quickly abandoned their nests to join in the scramble for every last bite. Leah took her basket from the shelf and gathered the eggs that were left behind. Leah checked the water pan. The top was frozen over so she chipped it free and left, satisfied that the chickens would survive another day of bad weather.

“Momma!” Banks’s cry was shrill, panicked. Leah took off at a run. She slipped, and fell forward on her hands. The basket landed on the snow and the eggs tumbled out and cracked except for one that bounced and rolled away. Leah ignored the mess. Her boots gave her no traction as she fought her way forward. Finally she was able to stand and move. Dodger bounded toward the door with a sharp growl, scrabbled his way over the drift and disappeared just as Leah slid under the porch overhang.

Banks called out again. Leah went through the door headfirst and landed on her outstretched arms. Her coat and skirts flew up around her waist as she flopped over and scrambled to her feet.

“Banks?”

“In here.” His voice came from his room, not hers. Leah grabbed on to the door frame as she skidded to a stop. Dodger stood in the room with the ruff of his neck standing straight up. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he stared up at Banks and Pastor Key.

“You’ve got to get away Brody,” Pastor Key said. “It’s not safe here.” He stood in front of Banks, who peered around his naked hip with his eyes as big as she’d ever seen them. Pastor Key’s deep brown eyes held the vacant stare from the night before. He was dreaming again, once more fighting his unseen demons.

“Banks,” Leah said gently. “Come here.”

God please don’t let Banks get hurt…please…

Banks tried to step out and Pastor Key pinned him against the wall with his arm. “I won’t let him take you.”

Dodger lowered the front half of his body and snarled.

“He won’t let me,” Banks said.

“Dodger! Down!” Leah was afraid that Banks would get hurt if Dodger attacked. Dodger growled and flattened his ears but stayed in place.

“Pastor Key.” Leah spoke slowly and quietly, even though her heart raced. “I need you to let my son go.”

He tilted his head and his eyes focused on her for a moment. “Mother?”

“Yes, I’m his mother.” Leah stretched out her hand. “Let my son come to me please.”

“You came for us.” A smile lit his face. His mouth widened and deep creases showed in his cheeks and around his eyes.

“Yes…I came for you. Now let him come to me.” Leah motioned for Banks with her hand. Banks slipped by the pastor and ran to Leah. Leah grabbed him to her and turned away, taking him from the room and across the hall into hers. Dodger followed, jumping up against her side
to sniff Banks, making sure in his own way that he was unhurt.

“Are you all right?” She sat down on the bed and rocked him, more for her benefit than his.
He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine…Thank you God, he’s fine…

“He didn’t hurt me,” Banks said. “I think he was scared of something.”

“You stay away from him until he’s better.”

“I’m sorry Momma. I went to get my book.”

“Next time ask me to get anything you left in there.”

“I will.”

She heard the crash; she knew Pastor Key would eventually fall when she left the room. She couldn’t be so lucky to hope that he’d find his own way back to bed, but she really didn’t care. Banks was fine. That was all she could concentrate on at the moment. Leah knew she’d eventually have to get Pastor Key back up by herself and could only pray that his wound hadn’t started bleeding again.

She stood Banks on the floor. “Can you go stoke the fire for me?”

“Yes Momma.”

She straightened his blond curls with her hand. “In the stove too.”

“I will.”

Leah touched his cheek. “I’ll come fix your breakfast in a minute.”

Banks nodded. “Is the preacher going to die like my daddy?”

“I don’t know sweetie. All we can do is help him the best we can, pray and leave the rest up to God.”

Banks nodded. “I’ll say a prayer for him when we have grace.”

“I think that would be a good thing.” She grabbed him to her for a hug and kissed the top of his head. “Go and do your chores.”

“I gotta go to the outhouse first.”

“Put your coat on and be careful. It’s slick out there.”

Leah helped Banks and Dodger out the door before she turned once more to her patient. He lay curled on his side on the floor, still slick with fever. “Pants,” she said as she went to his side. “The man definitely needs some pants.”

P
astor Key did not look well at all. Leah caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she studied her patient. Luckily his morning escapade had not resulted in more bleeding but his fever seemed to be hotter than ever. She’d tried dribbling some water into his mouth but that had only resulted in most of it spilling onto the sheets. “You are stubborn, that’s for sure,” she said as she looked at him. “Handsome and stubborn. How did someone like you wind up being a preacher?”

His head moved restlessly on the pillow as he mumbled. Either he was getting weaker or his nightmares weren’t as bad. She was afraid it was the former.

“Here’s more snow, Momma.” Banks carried the pail with both hands. Leah had put him to work scooping the snow at the doorway. The chore served two purposes. One, it would make it easier for them, especially Dodger, to get in and out, and two, it was an easy source of water. Plus it kept Banks busy while she took care of her patient.

“Thank you sweetie. Just leave it by the door.” She didn’t want Banks anywhere near the preacher until she was certain he’d regained enough of his senses not to accidentally hurt her son.

Leah picked up a handful of snow and placed it in the bowl to melt. Her hands, already chapped from the cold, burned from the frosty snow, so she blew on them in a feeble attempt to relieve the pain. Residual moisture dripped from her fingers. She looked at her hand, then at the snow. An idea formed in her mind so she scooped up a handful, opened the preacher’s mouth and dropped it inside. “There,” she said with some satisfaction. “Water.” Just to make sure, she put her finger beneath his chin to keep it closed. “At least it will be eventually.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a quick smile and a soft sigh sounded in his throat.

“‘For I was hungry, and you fed me; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was a stranger, and you took me in.’” Leah wiped his feverish brow. “I’m not sure of the wording but I know it’s a scripture. Perhaps when you’re feeling better you can tell me what chapter and verse.”

“Momma, the Martins are here.” Dodger’s deep bark confirmed it.

Now that was surprising. The snow was so deep that Dusty hadn’t opened. He just yelled across the street for her to stay home and take care of the preacher. Funny how word got around, even in the middle of a blizzard.

Leah wiped her hands and went to the door. Jim and Gretchen came in, Jim with a steaming pot in his gloved hands and Gretchen with a basket. “How is he?” Gretchen asked.

“Still alive.”

“That’s a good sign,” Jim said. Leah followed them into the kitchen. Jim put the pot on the woodstove and Gretchen took off her gloves and went immediately to work,
unpacking the basket. Jim went down the hall to get a peek at the new preacher. Banks stayed by the table, and watched each item that came out of Gretchen’s basket hit the table. Dodger did the same from the floor, his dark eyes hopeful that something would fall his way.

“Nonnie said we’re going to get ice starting this afternoon.” Nonnie was Gretchen’s seventy-year-old German grandmother. Gretchen’s mother had died soon after her daughter’s marriage, so Nonnie had made the trip west with Gretchen and Jim, riding the entire way in the back of Jim’s wagon, along with his smithy supplies. She’d also delivered all three sets of Gretchen’s twins and Banks. If Nonnie said an ice storm was coming, then Leah was inclined to believe her.

“We brought soup for your patient, fresh bread, butter, some jam and Nonnie’s apple strudel.” Gretchen continued, “Also Nonnie made some of her salve. She said it cures everything from dry skin to foot rot.”

Leah made a face. “I’m pretty sure that’s not an issue, although I haven’t really looked at his feet.” Leah picked up the small jar. “But I will try it on my hands.”

“From what I heard, it’s his face that needs looking at.” Leah looked at her in confusion. “He’s handsome?” Gretchen said when she realized her attempt at a joke had failed.

“I’m beginning to wonder if I missed a party last night,” Leah said as she rubbed the salve into her hands. She held them beneath her nose and smiled as she smelled the faint scent of roses. Gretchen has a climbing rose on the side of her porch, carefully carried out west from Pennsylvania and tenderly nurtured. Its blossoms were the palest of pinks and when it bloomed during the summer months the scent was glorious. Leah had tried many times to start cuttings from it but they always died before they took root so she had to satisfy herself with visiting Gretchen’s every chance she could. Nonnie collected and dried the spent petals and used
them in her salve and soaps. “How does everyone know all the details about Pastor Key?” Banks picked up the jar so he could have a sniff.

“So he is good-looking,” Gretchen said. “Pris said he was, when she brought his horse by.” She laughed. “Actually she couldn’t stop talking about his looks.”

“I wonder how Dusty found out.” Leah changed the subject so she wouldn’t have to admit what she thought about the preacher’s looks. “From what I could see he hasn’t stirred from his place.”

Gretchen shrugged as she folded the cloth that had protected the goods and placed it in the basket. “Life in a small town. Word gets around.” She stuck her finger in the jar to get a dab of the salve and rubbed it into her own hands. “We also wanted to know if Banks wanted to come spend the day with us.”

“Momma I want to go play with Sam.”

Leah’s first instinct was to keep Banks close at hand, especially since the weather was going to get worse. But then again, she didn’t want to go through another scare with Banks like this morning. What would she have done if the preacher, in his feverish state, had actually hurt Banks? Even in his weakened state, Pastor Key was still strong, much stronger than she was.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” she said.

“Why don’t you pack some things in case the weather gets really bad,” Gretchen suggested.

“Whoop!” Banks jumped in the air and shouted. Then grimaced as he put his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I forgot.”

“I’m sure you didn’t wake him.” Leah ruffled his curls. “Go get your things. And don’t forget your book. Just because there’s no school doesn’t mean you don’t have to read every day.”

“Yes ma’am!” Banks yelled. “Oops sorry.”

The women grinned at Banks. “Are you sure he won’t be any trouble?”

“I already have six children under twelve in the house. What difference will another one make?” Gretchen smoothed back a strand of Leah’s hair. “Rough night?”

“You could say that. I’m scared that I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Shame on Ward and Jake for putting you in this position,” Gretchen said.

“There really wasn’t anyplace else for him to go,” Leah admitted. “His fever is pretty bad.”

“What are you doing for it?”

“Trying to keep him cool.”

“Can he eat or drink anything?”

“No. He’s too out of it. Really out.” Leah felt a sudden rush of relief. She didn’t have to worry about Banks, and she had someone to voice her concerns to. “It’s strange. It’s like he’s seeing things in his sleep. Having horrible nightmares.”

Nonnie says when you’re sleeping the demons have an easier time getting to you.”

Leah knew about demons. She fought them all the time. Loneliness, jealousy, anger, fear, and self-doubt. But she was weak. She had always been weak. “What kind of demons would a minister have?”

Gretchen shrugged. “None of us are perfect. I guess he is the only one that knows. I would hope that he’s better equipped to fight them than the rest of us.”

“Are you going to be all right with him?” Jim asked as he came back into the kitchen.

“I don’t know why not,” Leah said.

“He’s a big guy,” Jim said. “Bigger and younger than what I expected.” Jim, along with Bettina, Gus, Jake and Margy, had been on the search committee for the new minister. The search had taken the better part of a year. “I guess
it’s a good thing that he’s not a weakling. He seems younger than thirty-seven too.”