Chapter 11
Chris was quiet the first leg of the trip home. He’d beat his mind up the rest of the day before and all night with his near attempt to steal that broach for Hanna. Mr. Browley must have noticed Chris’ silence but had not said anything to him.
Chris was grateful that the day was warm for their trip home.
"What's the matter, son?" Mr. Browley finally asked.
Chris snapped out of his day dream and felt his stomach drop with the question. How could he tell him about his near slip. He would surely think much less of him if he knew of his past. He may even fire him and kick him out of the soddy, sending him on his way.
"Oh, just thinking." Chris stated vaguely.
"About?" Mr. Browley asked giving Chris a sideways glance.
"Um, nothing in particular." Chris tried to save himself from trying to explain.
Mr. Browley was quiet for a few minutes, then asked something Chris would never be able to prepare himself to answer. "What did your father do, Chris?"
"My father?"
"I know you have more memory then you're letting on. Yeah, I've caught your slips talking about your childhood. You seemed to have let on that you've been to Shorlin before and you had mentioned something about your parents. I was just wondering what your story is. You do interact with my family and I like to know who is around my youngins."
Chris hung his head. "I do have complete memory of my childhood." he admitted. "It's nothing to brag about and really something I'd rather forget. I have not lied about not knowing how I got here. I still don't know that."
"Do you remember where you're from, at least?"
Chris did know but was not ready to divulge that information to anyone. "No." he simply said.
“So, you don’t remember where you’re from or how you got here but you remember everything before that, is that correct?”
“Yes, but like I said, my childhood is not something I’m proud of or willing to talk about. I was sent here for a reason, I know that and it’s a chance to start over and completely erase my past.”
“Well, you can’t completely erase it, Chris. God gives us these experiences to learn from and if it is possible to wipe the past clean, you will never remember the lesson He was trying to bestow upon you. We all have moments, especially when we are young, that we’re ashamed of, but it’s what you get out of it that matters.”
“I guess.” Chris scoffed.
“If you didn’t remember the past or mistakes you’ve made, how would you know how to start over, here. How would you know what and what not to do?”
“That’s true.” Chris realized. “I still wish I could wipe some memories, the ones that don’t seem to matter.”
“Well, we all do but that’s a part of life. I just want to make sure you’re being up front with me. We don’t keep secrets or lies in our home. Trust is a hard thing to build back once it’s been broken.”
“I’m trying sir.”
“I know you are.” Mr. Browley stated with a grin. “I know you are.”
That evening as they neared the house, Mrs. Browley, Hanna and Mason came running, breathless, toward the wagon.
“Wow, what a welcome.” Chris said. “You always get greeted like this?”
“Something is wrong.” Mr. Browley stated as he studied the worried looks on all their faces. “What’s wrong, Ruth.”
“It’s Priscilla. She came home from school yesterday, tired as could be and complaining of a headache and dizziness so I told her to lay down and when I tried to wake her for supper, she was burning up. She has had an out of control fever since and I can’t arouse her.” Mrs. Browley tried to explain through her gasping for air. “The only movement she’s made is when she goes into the shivers.”
Mr. Browley jumped down from the bench. “Mason, take the team in back and get them something to eat and drink. I may have to turn about and high tail it back to Shorlin.”
Chris stood there stunned. He didn’t know how to react within the panic. Worry plagued his body for poor Priscilla.
He followed Mr. and Mrs. Browley and Hanna up the stairs to the first bedroom on the left. Priscilla’s room. She laid in her bed, pale and taking shallow breaths. She had a wet cloth on her head that Mrs. Browley had placed to try to control her fever. Her small framed body convulsed with shivers every few minutes. With each convulsion, she moaned very softly but was never jolted awake.
Mr. Browley went to her and touched her arm, then her cheek.
“Hanna, go to town and ask Mr. Moyor if he can deliver some ice out here immediately.”
“Yes, pa.”
“I’ll go with you.” Chris stated in a hurry, not knowing what else he could do to help.
It seemed that Chris’s legs were separated from his body as they almost sprinted to town. The couple of miles seemed an eternity but they finally arrived at the mercantile.
Hanna pounded on the door that had a ‘Closed’ sign on it until Mrs. Moyor answered.
“Priscilla has a terrible fever, pa has asked if Mr. Moyor can bring out some ice immediately.” Hanna stated with the last of her breath.
“I’ll fetch him right away. Shall I come, too?” Mrs. Moyor asked with great concern.
“I’m not sure what you can do for her but I bet ma would appreciate you there for support.” Hanna replied.
After Mr. Moyor loaded up two sacks of ice into the wagon, Mrs. Moyor hopped onto the bench beside him while Chris and Hanna sat off the back.
Mrs. Browley was waiting anxiously on the front porch when they arrived. “Rebecca!” She cried. “I’m so glad you came.”
Rebecca embraced Mrs. Browley, then they turned to follow Mr. Moyor up the stairs with the ice.
“Pack her with the ice Ruth. Rebecca, I’m glad you’re here. Would you mind staying until I get back from Shorlin?” Mr. Browley asked while breaking chunks off of the ice block.
“Yes, are you going back to fetch the doctor? Is there cause for that much concern?” Mrs. Moyor asked.
“Better safe than sorry. I will take Samuel only and ride all night. I should be back by tomorrow afternoon.” He said to Mrs. Browley who simply nodded.
Rebecca gave Ruth a squeeze on the shoulder then turned to beat Mr. Browley out the door. “As you’re getting Sam saddled, I’ll make you some sandwiches for the road.” She stated quickly.
“Much obliged.” He replied over his shoulder then turned to his wife to give her a hug and a kiss. “I’ll be back with the doctor as soon as I can. You do your best to keep her cool and hydrated.”
“I will.” She replied, pulling herself together. “I don’t know what’s come over me, I think I just melted when you finally arrived home. I can take care of her.”
“I know you can.” he said giving her another quick kiss.
Mr. Browley rode off into the evening and Mr. Moyor returned home. Mason was finishing up the evening chores as Mrs. Moyor brewed some tea and took it upstairs to Mrs. Browley who had just finished packing her daughters neck, underarm’s and groin with the ice bits wrapped in sheets.
Chris, lost in the commotion made his way out to the front porch. He didn’t want to disturb anyone, so he planned to slip out undetected and make his way home. Out on the front steps, however, sat a huddled Hanna.
Chris approached her making a shuffle noise to announce his presence. He sat down beside her and was surprised to see tears flowing down her face.
“Are you alright?” Chris asked. Even though he wanted to take her into his arms and console her, he was afraid of how she may take that. As comfort or as an advance. He really wanted to do what he could to make her feel better. His heart was truly breaking watching her sob.
“I’m sorry.” she said sniffing.
“Don’t be sorry. I understand that you’re upset. I want to be here for you Hanna. I... I do care for you and I don’t want to see you like this.” Too much? He
thought.
She looked him in the eyes and even though hers were moist, reddened and puffy, they were soft and the kindness he’d once seen in them had returned.
“I’m just worried for Priscilla. I’ve never experienced this sort of thing before, where someone has had a fever for so long and refuses to wake up. What if she’s dying?”
Chris couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed. She accepted the embrace.
“She’s not going to die. Mr. Brow... your pa is going to return tomorrow with the doctor and everything will be alright.”
“I know.” she sniffed again. “I don’t know what’s coming over me. What I need to do is stop my sniffling and pray that God will take care of her.”
“That’s what you would tell me to do and you know it.” Chris said teasingly.
The comment made them both chuckle as Chris loosened his hold on her.
“Gods in control and I know Priscilla is strong.” Hanna added.
“She is strong and do you know where she has gotten her strength?” Chris asked her.
Hanna looked up at Chris with a wondering look on her face.
“From you.” Chris continued.
Hanna’s wondering look turned into a baffled one with the statement. “Me? What do you mean?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time with Priscilla, picking the garden and berry hunting. She’s told me a lot about the family and a lot about you.”
Hanna continued to look baffled. “What.. about me?”
“She raved on about your strength. Surviving the trip out here from the East. The stories you’ve told her have really stuck in her head and she has confessed to me that yours, and your ma and pa’s strength has given her, hers. She’s a lot stronger than you may think.”
Tears sopped Hanna’s face as she sunk into Chris’ chest. He soaked in her warmth as he stroked her hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you more.” he said with sorrow.
“You didn’t.. you’ve given me hope. Perhaps she is stronger than we all think.”
Hanna gazed into Chris’ eyes and barely touched her finger tip to his chin. “Thank you.” she whispered, then jumped up and ran into the night.
Chris was left sitting there with his jaw upon the porch. What just happened? He wondered. That was the most affection he’d ever seen come from Hanna and, to Chris, the strange part was that he was not trying to win her over, he was genuinely trying to comfort her.
Bitter sweet feelings filled his body as he trudged home in the darkness. He felt hope for him and Hanna. That there was a chance that Hanna could love him but he ached inside, with worry, for Priscilla. He forced himself to remember the verse from Matthew [6:32] that was read in church only a few weeks prior:
Your Heavenly Father knows what you need. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of it’s own.
As if gentle hands pushed on his shoulders, Chris fell to his knees in the middle of the road. “I put poor Priscilla in your hands, Lord. Please heal her and make her well. Send your speed and safety to Mr. Browley as he rides to Shorlin for the doctor. Watch over Mason, Mrs. Browley and Hanna and help them understand your will for Priscilla. Give them the courage and strength to help and care for her all the while dealing with their own doubts and grief.”
The prayer seemed to flow out of Chris as if he had no control over it. He’d never said a prayer out loud like that before but when he finished “In Jesus’ name, I pray... Amen.” He felt released. He felt at peace and complete. He was able to get back onto his feet, make it back to the sod house, start a small fire in the stove and lay in his bed.
Not a single thought plagued his mind. Priscilla would be okay. She was in God’s hands.
The next morning, Chris woke up extra early all on his own. His mental alarm clock was strengthening each and every week. He was so glad that it had woken him up a touch earlier than normal so he could go get the morning chores done before anyone even knew he was there. He felt the need to do whatever he could to help.
Sadly, Chris realized that this was a new feeling. To be completely selfless to help others. Happy it was within him but sad that it had to be a new feeling at the age of nineteen.
He was surprised to see a light burning in the kitchen. Mrs. Browley perhaps? He hoped there was nothing wrong. He tapped lightly on the front door and entered, not to see Mrs. Browley in the kitchen but Hanna.
“You’re up early.” He exclaimed.
“I was just going to say the same to you.”
“I thought I’d come get the morning chores done so you all could concentrate on caring for Priscilla.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Mr. Scholt.” Hanna stated giving him a kind nod.
“Please, Hanna. Call me Chris. If Mason gets up, tell him that everything is taken care of.” He turned to head for the back door.
“Chris.” Hanna called out. He turned to be warmed by her smile as she gazed at him. After a few moments, she cleared her throat. “Can I at least send you out with a cup of coffee?”
“I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll get a cup when I come back in.” He tipped his hat to her as he’d seen in countless movies, and always wanted to try, and slipped out the door.
Chris worked diligently to feed the chickens, goat and cows. He threw hay to Samantha who seemed lonely without Sam there with her. He milked each cow which took him half the time it used to and was on the last one when he heard someone calling him.
He glanced out of the barn door to see that the sun had come up doing very little to warm the day. Hanna was running toward him from the house calling his name. “Chris, Chris!”
He met her halfway, terrified of the news she was bringing him. He grabbed her elbows when she reached him. “What’s wrong, Hanna?”
Hanna could barely get any words out as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up to him as a smile spread across her face. “She’s up, Priscilla is awake!”
Chris grabbed Hanna’s hand and they ran up to the house together and up the stairs. Priscilla was still quite feverish and extremely weak but was now conscious. Mrs. Browley was standing over her mopping her face with a cool cloth. Priscilla’s eyes fluttered as her body still shivered and shook. Her skin no longer looked pale but had an eerie orange hint to it.
“We’re not out of the woods yet.” Mrs. Browley stated when Chris and Hanna entered the room. “But at least we’re seeing some life from her. Praise God for answered prayers.”
Hanna glanced at Chris, released her hand from his and rushed to her sister’s side. “Priscilla.” she softly whispered. Priscilla opened her glazed eyes and stared around the room.
“Do you think you can take in some broth?”
“Just one teaspoon at a time.” Mrs. Browley warned. “We don’t want to over do it.”
Hanna picked up the cup and spoon fed Priscilla two helpings. The liquid dribbled down the sides of Priscilla’s mouth as her head became heavy again. Mason stood in the doorway next to Chris, his face tight apparent that he was fighting back his emotions.
“That will do for now, Hanna.” Mrs. Browley stated, touching Hanna’s shoulder. “Would you be kind enough to go start some coffee?”
Hanna looked at her mother with pleading eyes, not wanting to leave her sister’s side. Obediently, however, she rose to her feet.
“I’ll make it.” Chris announced. “You all stay here with Priscilla.”
Hanna’s grateful eyes met Chris’. He turned and slowly descended the stairs. He was confident that he’d watched Mrs. Browley make coffee enough that he’d know how to make it himself. He was relieved, however, when he got to the stove and saw that the coffee had already been made. Hanna must have prepared it while he was out in the barn, it just needed to be heat
ed up.
He took the poking stick from beside the stove and stoked the hot embers, throwing on a few logs to set the inside of the stove ablaze. He also noticed a loaf of bread cooling on the counter. He found the tray the family had used to bring him food when he laid injured in Hanna’s room months, but what seemed like years, ago. He sliced four pieces of bread, lightly buttering them, filled three cups with coffee and one with milk. He set a spoon with a small jar of jam on the tray and carried it up the stairs.
Since he’d re-lit the stove, the temperature difference going up the stairs got cooler with each step. He figured it was better to have the area that Priscilla was in to be cooler rather than burning hot.
Priscilla was sleeping again by the time he made it back into her room. Mrs. Browley, Hanna and Mason all sat around her bed and seemed surprised by Chris’ tray arrangement.
After the coffee, milk and bread were consumed, they all sat back in the chairs they’d brought up from the table. Mrs. Browley and Hanna took turns getting up and feeling Priscilla’s head, patting it down with the cool cloth they had to re-dip in the water every couple of minutes.
Chris’s early morning rise was catching up to him as he laid his head back, feeling his eye lids getting heavier.
The same sound made them all jump to their feet and fly to the window. Samuel whinnying.
“Pa!” Hanna and Mason stated in unison. Chris stood back as they fled down the stairs to go meet their pa and the doctor from Shorlin.
Mrs. Browley stayed by Priscilla’s side. “That was fast, he must have ran Sam ragged there and back.” she commented.
“I will need everyone but the parents to step out a moment.” the doctor announced when he entered the room. “I need some room and we don’t know if what she has, yet, may be contagious.”
Mason, Hanna and Chris made their way down stairs in the same snail pace.
“Did you really finish all the morning chores?” Mason asked.
“Oh, I forgot. I didn’t finish milking the last cow. I’d better get out...”
“I’ll do it.” Mason said. “I really need something to do to keep my mind busy. Please tell pa and the doctor I will feed and water their horses, as well” He excused himself and headed to the back door.
There was a short moment of silence when Hanna and Chris realized that they were, once again, alone.
“Would you like more coffee?” she finally said.
“Uh, yeah, that would be nice.”
“I’m surprised it’s not evaporated and scorched with all the wood you put on this fire.” she laughed.
Chris shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never done that before.” he said, laughing with her.
“You did fine. I’m just teasing you. Thank you for doing that, by the way.” her tone becoming serious. She poured him another cup as they sat in the remaining two chairs at the table.
“I know doctors are only human, but for some reason, I feel better that he is here.” Hanna stated.
“It doesn’t seem right, but that’s the way it feels, isn’t it? Does your family know this doctor?” Chris asked.
“Yes, the entire town of Coar knows him. That’s Dr. James Blake. He’s been coming to these parts whenever he is needed. He had mentioned long ago that he’d planned to move here since Coar does not have it’s own doctor but I’m not sure what happened to that plan.”
“It would be nice to fetch a doctor as quickly as we fetched the ice last night.” Chris stated just trying to keep the conversation going.
“It would be. I hope he is still considering the move. He would be a great asset to our community.”
“Hanna..?” came a voice from upstairs. “Could you get some water boiling, please?”
“Yes, ma.” Hanna answered jumping up from her chair.
Chris stood up as Dr. Blake and Mr. Browley came down the stairs. They spoke amongst themselves in low tones.
“Can I offer you some coffee, doctor?” Hanna asked. “Pa?” They both nodded not hiding their fatigue from the all night ride. They both fell into the rocking chairs in the parlor as Hanna brought them their cups.
“I trust that everything is getting taken care of outside?” Mr. Browley asked.
“Mason is out there right now tending to your horses.” Chris stated.
“Yes, but Mr. Scholt was here hours before dawn and got most of the morning chores done before the house was even stirring.” Hanna stated proudly, throwing Chris a grin.
Chris just nodded, actually embarrassed with the acknowledgement.
“Doctor?” Hanna looked at Dr. Blake with her brow raised. Reading her mind and the concern spread across her face, he answered her without further question. “Priscilla has Malaria. It’s caused from mosquito bites. Your ma has you boiling water to mix in some powdered roasted Alum. That should help with the fever. That’s all we can do for now except wait and pray for her temperature to decrease.”
Hanna nodded, grateful for the update. “The water!” she gasped, running into the kitchen.
Hanna filled a cup with the bubbling water and headed upstairs to her sisters bedroom.
“Did the doctor tell you?” her mother asked as she opened a small packet of powder, dissolving it into the cup.
“Yes, I asked.” Hanna replied.
Mrs. Browley cooled the liquid, stirring and blowing on it for several minutes and lifted her youngest daughter’s head to administer the first spoonful. Unlike the broth, Priscilla took in the medicine.
“Now we wait.” Mrs. Browley stated in a whisper. “Wait and pray.”