A Promise for Tomorrow (44 page)
She looked upward to where temporary tracks crossed over the tunnel. Men were working with the winches and shafts to remove additional debris from the interior. Perhaps Kiernan was up there. Just as she made the decision to head the horse up the side of the mountain, Kiernan appeared at the door of the shack.
“Victoria?”
Unable to contain her sobs, Victoria leaped from the horse, catching her skirt on the horn and tearing it from the knee to the hem. She didn’t care. Running blindly from her tears, she threw herself into Kiernan’s arms.
“Oh, Kiernan, Papa has cholera!”
Kiernan’s arms held her close for only a moment before he set her away from him. “Are ya certain?”
She nodded emphatically. “Yes. He just came home and collapsed on the floor. Poor Mama can’t take care of him alone. You have to come and help her.”
Kiernan nodded. “We’ll have to be takin’ yar horse.”
She nodded, grateful for his ability to take charge of the matter. It seemed that for all she had done to occupy her mind with other thoughts on her journey to the tunnel, just seeing Kiernan caused her emotions to vent uncontrollably.
He helped her back up on the horse, this time sidesaddle, and then he mounted behind her and pulled her back snug against him. It was like being drawn into a private, protective haven, and in spite of the catcalls and lewd innuendoes being thrown at them from the observing workers, Victoria could not keep back tears of anguish.
Oh, God, please don’t take my father away from me
, she prayed.
Please
let him be all right. Let Kiernan know what to do
.
Secure in Kiernan’s strong embrace, Victoria realized how very much she counted on him to fill the aching void in her heart. Surely if Kiernan’s love remained fixed and true, it would cease to matter that her real father had never loved or wanted her. After all, Kiernan had promised her that he very much wanted her. Needed her. Loved her.
Surely that would be enough. It had to be enough.
Carolina sat dozing in the rocking chair. James lay not a foot away in a small bed fashioned by Kiernan. It had been decided to keep James downstairs, where they had easy access to needed supplies. It also allowed Miriam to keep the children upstairs and away from their father’s sickness. Truth be told, Carolina had wanted the children to go elsewhere, but there was no place else to send them. The stage and freighters wouldn’t come into town due to the quarantine, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have been allowed to leave again. In fact, with the epidemic raging as it was, supplies were stored some miles from town, and payment was settled in like fashion.
Carolina found the entire ordeal so disheartening she could scarcely function under the weight of it. She longed to see James open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile, but after three days of constant diarrhea and vomiting, James was not likely to do either one.
Carolina could only watch and wait—doing what little she knew to do. The doctor had come and offered his remedies, but nothing helped. Miriam had insisted on brewing a concoction of turnip water and red pepper, and this they spooned into James every few minutes, but whether it helped or hurt, Carolina couldn’t be sure.
The lamp had been turned down to a muted yellow glow, but even by this meager light, Carolina could see that James was slipping away from her. She lifted his hand and held it to her cheek.
“You must get well,” she said softly. “I need you.”
She kissed his hand, then looked at it as though seeing it for the first time. The skin seemed shrunken and wrinkled, giving his hand a bony appearance. The doctor had told her this was due to the drastic loss of fluids, which was the logical reasoning for adhering to Miriam’s idea of turnip water. Miriam swore that Carolina’s old mammy had used the very same thing whenever folks had been suffering from such violent purging.
“Am I interruptin’?” Kiernan asked from the kitchen archway.
Carolina shook her head. She’d given Kiernan free run of the house and had come to depend upon him heavily. “I’m afraid there’s no news.”
“I suppose ’tis the way of this thing,” he told her and stepped toward the makeshift bed. “Two more little ones died earlier this evenin’. One of ’em belonged to the Kaberlines.”
“Oh no,” Carolina said, shaking her head. As much as she fretted over James’ condition, she still felt an undeniable fear for her own children. So far they had managed to avoid the disease. But for how long?
Kiernan took up a stool and sat down. “I can sit with him while ya get some rest. It’s nearly midnight. That fine boy of yars will be needin’ to have a meal soon.”
Carolina looked at him in surprise. “You are very observant of my family if you know things such as that.”
Kiernan chuckled. “I have brothers and sisters of me own. Enough to know they plum wore me mum to a shred. Victoria says that Nicky eats like there’s no tomorrow.”
“Or if there is a tomorrow, he’s convinced food will not be offered,” Carolina agreed and stretched wearily. “I suppose some rest would be nice, but I hate to leave James.”
“Aye. I know.”
She looked at Kiernan and saw the understanding and compassion in his eyes. He had truly been a godsend during their ordeal. At a time when they needed to focus on the upcoming winter, Carolina found herself without their most beneficial source of help—James. But Kiernan had worked hard to fill the void, and when contractors temporarily shut down work at the tunnel due to too much sickness and death, he had devoted himself entirely to the Baldwin family.
“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve already done,” Carolina said softly.
Kiernan ran a hand through his auburn hair and appeared uncomfortable with her praise. “Ya’d do the same for me.”
Carolina nodded. “Yes, but you’ve given above and beyond what anyone could expect. Chopping all that wood. Keeping the livestock. Helping Miriam harvest the garden. We’d be in a sorry state if you’d not come along.”
“Likewise for me.”
Carolina knew of his troubles with Red. The man refused to even speak with Kiernan, and not only that, he had apparently forbidden any other Connaughtman to speak to him, either. Victoria had confided that it grieved Kiernan more than he could say, and for the most part he was silent on the matter.
“I’m sorry your brother has treated you so harshly.”
Kiernan shrugged. “ ’Tis his way.”
“But that doesn’t make it right,” Carolina said. She eased James’ hand back under the cover and reached for the turnip water. Kiernan saw her action and immediately leaned forward to lift James’ head. James didn’t even moan as she spooned in the liquid. Much of it dribbled back out of his mouth, but Carolina worked patiently until she’d managed to get the better part of five spoonfuls into her husband’s weakened body.
“People often do things without thinking,” Carolina said as Kiernan lowered James back to the pillow. “Your brother is hardheaded, but I’m sure his heart is not as hard. He may feel that you chose against him, but James told me he’d also heard it said Red issued an order that no one was to touch you.”
Kiernan smiled. “It’d be like him to do that.”
“I doubt he would have if he didn’t have some kind of love for you. Perhaps in time—”
Kiernan shook his head. “Ya don’t know me brother. When he sets his mind to somethin’, he stays with it.”
“But God could change all of that,” Carolina replied.
“Oh, He could, now, that’s for certain,” Kiernan agreed. “Me mum always said there weren’t a problem too big for the good Lord. But Red thinks he’s right, and he won’t be likely to change his mind anytime soon.”
“Then I feel sorry for him,” Carolina said, contemplating the sorrow in Kiernan’s voice. “I hope you know that you will always be welcome here.”
“Thank ya,” Kiernan answered, and again he looked away as if embarrassed by the intimacy of the moment.
Carolina had little desire to leave James’ side, but she knew she also had an obligation to her children. Especially Nicholas, who would demand her attention for his insatiable appetite. Slowly she got to her feet and reluctantly put James’ care into Kiernan’s hands. “He needs the broth every few minutes.”
“Aye. I’ll see to it. Ya can count on it,” Kiernan promised.
“I know I can or I’d not even think of leaving him.” With one backward glance, Carolina left the room.
Wearily she took up a candle, lit it, and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Stripping off her dress, Carolina found Miriam had left a pitcher of water and a soft washcloth. She relished the feeling of the cold water against her skin. It momentarily revived her, but even this brief respite couldn’t give her ease from the heaviness in her soul.
Pulling on a nightgown, Carolina took up the task of unpinning her hair. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and found a stranger staring back. Who was this haggard-looking woman with sunken eyes and washed-out cheeks? She felt old and knew that her reflection confirmed the worst of it. James’ illness had taken its toll on her. A vise of fear gripped her. What if this is just the beginning? she wondered. What if the children fall ill next, and then Miriam or Kiernan?
She heaved a sigh and took up the brush. With long, defined strokes, Carolina prayed for peace and strength to endure. She prayed for James’ recovery and for the protection of her children.
“Oh, Father,” she murmured, “please help us. Please.”
Setting aside the brush, she slipped into bed and decided to rest until Nicholas sent up his cries of hunger. Surely after a little rest, things would seem better.
When morning came, Carolina stretched and yawned and for a moment felt very happy and very rested. She rolled over and found the empty space where James would normally have been, then startled to remember the circumstance that had taken him from her side. Worse still, she remembered that Nicholas had not awakened her in the night for his usual feeding.
Trepidation consumed her as she hurried into her robe. If anything had happened to Nicholas . . . oh, but she couldn’t even finish the thought. She hurried from her room and burst into the nursery.
Glancing around the room, Carolina could see nothing amiss, and coming to her baby’s cradle, she felt her heart skip a beat. Nicholas smiled up at her, cooing and gurgling as if quite pleased with himself.
“Oh, you darling boy,” Carolina said, barely daring to breathe. She lifted the plump baby into her arms and felt tears form in her eyes. “Thank you, God. Thank you.”
As if remembering his need for Carolina, Nicholas began to fuss. “Oh, you are soaked through!” Carolina exclaimed, realizing that the front of her robe was now wet, as well. She hurried to diaper him and put him to her breast, all the while anxious to see to her husband. How could she have slept the entire night away while James lay desperately ill downstairs? But even as she wondered, Carolina knew the truth. She had spent days and nights at his side, and last night had been the first night she’d slept in a bed for more than a few hours since James had fallen ill.
Nicholas fed, making slurping and smacking noises. His obvious pleasure with her attention gave Carolina yet another form of renewal. She’d not remembered much through these past days except James’ condition, and now that she had a moment to reflect, Carolina knew she’d not done justice to her children. They were no doubt frantic with worry of their own, and she could not give them answers even if they voiced their questions.
Finishing with Nicholas, Carolina put him back in the cradle and went in search of Victoria. With the baby spending more and more time awake, she hated to leave him alone. Soon he would be crawling and sitting up and, before she knew it, walking and talking. It was the way these things went, and just as she felt Victoria’s youth slipping by too quickly, Carolina knew she would find the same thing true of her infant son.
Peering in on Jordana and Brenton, Carolina found them still sound asleep. She was blessed by this. They were safe and well, and with God’s help they would stay that way, and James would recover and they would all know a better day.
And it was with this thought that she descended the stairs. The house seemed deathly still, but around the corner came the voice of Victoria. She thought to reprimand the child for disobeying orders, but when her words registered in Carolina’s ears, she could not be harsh with the girl.
“Papa, I love you so much,” Victoria was saying.
Carolina peered around the corner and found her daughter on her knees beside James’ bed. She held his hand against her cheek and stroked his arm lovingly.
“There are so many people who are sick, Papa. So many people who have died. But you can’t be one of them. I lost my other father and I mustn’t lose you. Don’t you see? I can’t lose another father.” She kissed his hand, and Carolina could see that there were tears in her daughter’s eyes.
“Mama is trying to be so strong,” Victoria continued, her words deeply touching the aching in Carolina’s heart. Sometimes she wondered if Victoria even recognized her struggles and griefs. Too often it seemed that Victoria considered Carolina the barrier to her own happiness in life. Now hearing these words of affirmation, Carolina felt a wonderful assurance that her daughter understood.
“Mama has always been strong. She takes it on herself, and even when things appear that they cannot work out, Mama makes them work. That’s why I always want her on my side. She cannot help but see a thing accomplished. It’s her gift. And so if for no other reason than Mama’s will, you shall get better.”
Carolina’s tears fell in a steady stream down her cheeks. Victoria’s faith in her was overwhelming. Just then James moaned and Carolina started toward him. Victoria glanced up and frowned. “Please don’t be mad at me,” she said defensively. “I came to pray with him when Kiernan left to bring in more wood.”
“I’m not mad,” Carolina assured her daughter. She watched her husband for any sign that he might open his eyes, but much to her disappointment they remained closed. “I’m afraid . . . but I’m not mad.”
“Don’t be afraid, Mama,” Victoria said, getting to her feet. “Papa is strong.”