Rorey's Secret (8 page)

He was still. He didn’t answer me a word, but his eyes were open, watching. Katie had tears trailing down her cheeks, but she was doing what I told her, holding that towel tight against his leg. I picked up the bowl of water again. I knew it wasn’t very warm. What Katie’d put on to heat hadn’t had time to get hot. But the cool would probably feel good on his head. I hoped so.

Something had hit him; that was clear to me. On the back of his head I felt quite a lump beneath a small but jagged cut with dried blood caked over it. A wonder he hadn’t bled more.

I wished the doctor were here already to ask about this. But it worried me, knowing there was very little even a doctor could do for a head injury. Dr. Howell had told us that before. I began to pray that nothing was serious, and nothing broken.

“How do you feel now?”

“Sore.”

I kissed him again, remembering his tender caress of such a short time ago.
Lord, help him. Heal him quickly.

I let Kate bathe his forehead for a minute, which Samuel seemed to welcome.

I could hear Delores in the kitchen talking, probably to Bert, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying.

“Let me see your side,” I said, carefully unbuttoning Samuel’s shirt. But I couldn’t see any injury there. I couldn’t feel anything either, but my touch hurt him. I could tell, even though he didn’t say so.

Feeling numb, I went to get another cloth and bowl. Delores looked up as I entered the kitchen. “How is he?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She was setting Bert’s foot down to soak in a mixing bowl full of water. She glanced up at me again with concern on her face. “Do you need to sit down for a minute?”

“No. No, not at all. There’s too much to do.” I grabbed a clean cloth, scooped some water out of the kettle into another bowl, and then threw a kitchen towel over my shoulder. “How’s Thelma?”

“Still rockin’ the baby. Don’t you worry ’bout her. She’s got a strong constitution about her, that one. She’ll be fine bein’ up this soon. And I’ll see that she don’t overdo.”

I nodded. It was all I could manage before hurrying back into the bedroom. Samuel’s eyes were closed. That bothered me at first, even though I’d told him to rest. What if he was unconscious? What if something was seriously wrong?

But he opened his eyes as I neared the bed. “Juli, all of you need to get some sleep.”

“There’s no way we can sleep with you and Berty hurt! And that fire going on. We’re not even half started cleaning you up.”

“I should be helping,” he said. His voice sounded weak.

“I don’t want to hear such nonsense. The only way you’re to help is to stay still while I see to you. I want to get your shirt all the way off and wash you up and see if there’s anywhere else—”

“I love you.” His words were quick and soft, stopping me in midsentence.

I just stared, wishing I could hold him till forever and make all the hurt go away. “Oh, Sammy, I love you too. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

As soon as I said it, the cruel doubts started beating my insides. Was he all right? I’d once heard about a man who’d been hit with a chunk of rock inside a cave. He thought he was fine. Everybody thought he was fine. He just went home, and the next day they found him dead in his bed.

I couldn’t say anything else. And Samuel didn’t either. He closed his eyes again as I bathed the back of his head. Katie went to get fresh water and came back as I was taking the towel off his leg.

“Can you get his boots off for me, Katie?”

She nodded, looking grim. “Do they know how the fire started?”

“I don’t know, honey. I doubt it.”

“It’s so good he isn’t burned.”

“Yes,” I said, feeling a little sick inside. “Thank God for that.”

I took the sewing scissors to Samuel’s pant leg again and cut the rest of it completely off from midthigh so I could really see the wound and not have to bandage over or under the dirty denim. Katie struggled with the boots and then brought in another oil lamp from the sitting room. I folded one of the cool cloths and left it against the back of Samuel’s head and then turned my attention again to his leg.

Once we had the blood cleaned away, I could see that he’d have a lot of bruising on that leg. The gash was at least four inches long, and deep. It would require stitches. And I knew I ought to be putting something on to help it right away.

“Katie, go and see if the water’s hot. And set out the comfrey and plantain from the cupboard if you can find them.”

She went out quickly, and I felt over the rest of that leg and the other one. “God’s grace that nothing seems to be broken,” I said.

Samuel didn’t answer. His head was turned just a little to one side, his eyes still closed.
Let him be sleeping, Lord,
I prayed.
Just let it be a nice, restful sleep.

But I wasn’t sure how he could sleep at a time like this, any more than I could, if he was really all right. A weight pressed hard against my stomach. What if there was nothing that could be done? What if he didn’t wake up?

“Mom? How is he?”

Sarah’s words jarred me. I hadn’t heard her coming down the stairs.

“It’s all right, honey,” I told her. “He’s resting.”

I sounded so phony to myself that I wondered if she knew. But she only stepped closer, looking at her father with cautious eyes.

“Is Emma Grace asleep?” I asked her.

“Yes. She didn’t want to, but she was too tired to fight it long.”

“Thank you, Sarah, for all you did.”

She looked at me oddly, almost as if my words hurt her. “There wasn’t much I could do, Mom. I hope I never see nothing so scary—never again.”

She looked closely at her dad’s leg with tears in her eyes, and then up at his face again. “Oh, Mom—” she stopped, not quite able to say anything else. And I was no better.

Suddenly, Katie called to me from the doorway. “Mom, the water’s warm. Do you want me to set some aside with the herbs in it?”

“Sarah, help her, will you please? I need two tablespoons of the ground comfrey and plantain both to a quart of water nice and hot. Let it steep about five minutes. And I’ll need some wide strips of clean cloth for bandaging. You can use the torn sheet I saved in the linen drawer. And bring a glass of water for when your father wakes up.”

I saw the worry on both their faces and was sorry to be so abrupt. “I’m proud of you both,” I added quickly. “You’re being such a help.”

They disappeared, and I was glad to be alone for a moment with just Samuel and God. “Thank you,” I whispered. “That he’s still with us. Just help him get better.”

Out in the sitting room I could hear baby Rosemary crying, sweet and delicate. I could hear the voices in the kitchen too, and Whiskers outside barking at some critter. Then, over all that, I heard the rumble of thunder. I hoped that would mean rain. The summer had been so dry that everybody I knew was worried for their harvest. And now a brutal fire! Who knew how much it had already cost. Maybe the sky would pour down rain and stop the fire’s raging before it got any worse.

It wasn’t two minutes and I heard the patter of raindrops. I was so glad. So relieved. Water from heaven would quench that awful fire. But I couldn’t help thinking that if the rain had only come sooner, if everything had already been dripping wet, maybe there’d have been no fire. And Samuel would never have had to leave my side.

Soon it was pouring. I took the cloth from Samuel’s head to wet and cool it again. I thought of everyone over at Hammonds’, getting soaked now and surely glad of it. Let it pour! But too much mud would make our dirt roads bad. Too much mud would make it harder for the doctor to get here.

Samuel moved his hand slightly but didn’t open his eyes, and I knew he wasn’t awake. As I put the cloth back, I could feel myself trembling just a little. Lord only knew how close we’d come to losing him. I didn’t want to think about that, but there was no way I could help it. I sat beside him on the bed, trying hard not to cry, wiping away the one tear that defied my wishes by slipping slowly down my cheek.

Why, Lord?
I cried, staring out the window at the darkness.
Why did this have to happen? Samuel’s been so good. And he’s gone through so much in his life. It doesn’t seem right. Samuel wouldn’t agree, I know he wouldn’t, but I would rather it have been me.

The girls came back with a pile of cloth, a jar with the steeping herbs, and a glass of water, which Katie set on the nightstand that Samuel had made for us two winters before.

“The fire will be out now, won’t it?” Sarah asked. “With all the rain?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“It should’ve rained sooner.”

It surprised me, how much Sarah’s feelings mirrored my own. Perhaps I should have told her that there is a time for everything and that God is in control, even when things are far out of our hands. But I didn’t. I thought it might sound as hollow as I felt right then.

I soaked one strip of cloth in the plantain and comfrey water and then folded it carefully over the wound on Samuel’s leg. Then I wrapped other strips over it and secured them as best I could. The longest strips went around his leg twice with room left to tie. I carefully bathed the rest of his leg with the herbed water and then covered him to the waist with a blanket.

“I wish we had ice,” I said more to myself than to the girls. It would be good to set a piece of it against the back of Samuel’s head.

“Do you think Mrs. Post might have some?” Katie asked me hopefully.

“Honey, I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to run over and see?”

Her willingness surprised me. Over a mile and a half. With no horse or vehicle. Through driving rain. At night. “Oh, honey, it’s good of you to offer, but it would take you an awfully long time getting over there and back. If she did have some, it might melt before you got it here. Maybe we’d better just wait till Robert is back.”

“Surely it’ll be soon,” Sarah added.

I soaked another cloth in the herb water. “I’ll have to lift your head a little, Samuel,” I whispered. “To get another bandage on you.”

I wanted him to stir. Especially when I was laying the cloth against the back of his head and wrapping it to stay on. But he didn’t open his eyes or make any sound at all.

You’re scaring the girls, Samuel. I should’ve thought to send them out.

“Is there something more we can do?” Katie asked so quietly. Sarah just stood beside her looking pale. They were both exhausted, I could tell.

“No. It’s almost morning. You should try to get some rest while you can. I expect it’ll be a busy day coming on.”

“But Robert’ll be back soon,” Sarah protested. “I want to wait.”

“Help Delores get Berty settled somewhere. If Robert’s not here by then, you need to lie down for a while too, at least until you hear him come in.”

“What about you, Mom?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll stay right here with your father.”

The girls went out reluctantly. I could hear them in the sitting room, smoothing what had been Robert’s bedding for Berty on the floor. Delores was there too, talking about my old woven laundry basket being the perfect bassinet for baby Rosemary. Thelma might not be very comfortable on the old davenport Herman Meyer had given us, but I was glad she was willing to go there for Samuel’s sake. After a while, things got quiet, and I knew the girls had obeyed me and gone upstairs.

Alone with Samuel, I moved the oil lamp closer and carefully pulled off his shirt, hoping to check every inch of him to make sure there wasn’t something I’d missed.

I went for clean water, warmer this time, and began to bathe him carefully.

“Juli . . .”

His eyes opened slowly and focused on me, and I felt relief like a weight lifted off my back. “Oh, Samuel. How do you feel?”

“Been better.” He gave me the barest hint of a smile. But then he looked more serious. “You need some rest.”

“I don’t think—”

“Juli, please. Come here with me.”

For a moment I just stood there. Come here with him? On the bed? Of course, it was
our
bed. But he was so . . . hurt.

With some effort he moved his right arm and patted the bed beside him. “Come on.”

Somehow the look in his eyes convinced me. I set the water and cloth aside and sat down beside him just as close as I could, being extra careful not to jiggle the bed too much.

“I love you,” he said again.

“I love you too, Samuel. More than all the world.”

He closed his eyes, and my throat tightened, but then he opened them again. “Is Robert back? Is the fire out?”

“It started raining, honey. That ought to take the fire down. But Robert’s not back yet.”

“Lord be with them. It was bad, Juli.”

“I know.”

“I hope they saved the house.”

“The most important thing is for everyone to be all right,” I told him. “A house can be rebuilt.”

He closed his eyes again.

“Samuel, will you take a drink?”

“I’ll try.”

Something about the way he said that made me afraid. I reached for the glass of water, watching him carefully. “Are you hurting a lot?” I asked him, hoping he would tell me it was getting better, or at least not any worse. “Yeah,” he said simply.

I tried to help him drink, but he didn’t seem to want more than a sip. “I’ve got mullein and nettle, Samuel, that might help the pain. I could make a strong tea if you think you could manage it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Is your head still the worst?”

“I don’t know.”

I clasped his hand. I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder, but I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t hurt him. I shouldn’t have listened to him when they first came. I should’ve made him stay in the truck, and then brought out a lot of bedding to cushion him and had Robert drive us straight to Dr. Hall’s hospital in Mcleansboro.

“I’m so tired, Juli.”

“Well, you ought to be tired. It’s been a hard night.” “If I sleep, will you wake me when Robert gets back?” “Yes,” I told him, wondering if he was aware of having slept already.

“Come here, Juli. Come closer.”

I was already sitting on the bed right against him, holding his hand with both of mine. But I knew what he wanted. Carefully I eased down to lie beside him. I put my hand on his bare chest. His heart was racing, but his breaths were slow.