Chapter 19
“Having Anna near, and not only near but to be engaged to her? For the first time since Garrett moved to London, I’m feeling sorry for myself, and I can’t let anyone see it.
“So I will let them see only how happy I am to be with her again, because that emotion is just as real as my self-pity but much more pleasant.”
—David Tate, 1850, Age 23
When I reached the top of the stairs moments after leaving Julia on the main floor, Maren was standing in the corridor, wringing her hands. I stopped. “What is it?”
“It’s your mother.” She glanced at Mama’s door. “She’s fallen ill. I was on my way to come find you.”
I started toward her bedroom door with a sour taste in my mouth but then stopped. “Does David know?”
She shook her head. “I only just went in to see about helping her dress for dinner. She was in bed, her skin raging with heat.”
“Will you tell him for me, please?” I was going to need him. Ever since Papa passed away, even the slightest illness could make me tremble. And based on Maren’s concern, Mama’s fever wasn’t slight.
Maren nodded and ran down the stairs. I dashed to Mama’s room and pushed open the door to find her in her nightdress, pale and sallow. She’d eaten breakfast with us, but I hadn’t seen her afterthat. I’d been so busy with the orchard and my plans with Julia that I hadn’t even noticed her absence. She’d been careful to give David and me privacy over the past week and a half, and I’d grown accustomed to not seeing her for long portions of time.
My steps slowed once inside her room. “Mama?” I whispered.
She didn’t move. I quickened my pace, dropping to my knees and placing a hand on her forehead.
Her skin was indeed raging, just as Maren had said. Not only that, but it felt lax and dry too. I glanced at Mama’s bedside table and reached for the glass of water that sat there.
“Mama?” I asked again, this time louder. Her eyelids fluttered open for a moment, but she didn’t speak. “I’m going to give you some water.”
Her head lifted slightly, and even that small movement gave me some comfort. I put the glass to her lips, and she drank a few small sips, spilling almost as much as made it down her throat.
Footsteps sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn. I knew the sound of David’s boots. None of the servants were as noisy when they made their way through the house.
He came up beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve told Maren to send for James.”
Right. The friend David had planned to move in with was the town doctor. “Thank you,” I said, my voice unsteady. Mama was almost never sick. Over the past few years, I’d found her in bed, overwhelmed with indecision about what to do with our lives, but rarely with anything like this. “I saw her this morning. How ... ?”
“Sometimes these things come on quickly. James will be here soon. He is an excellent doctor; he will know what to do.”
Soonwas a relative term, especially when worried about a loved one. While we waited, David quietly stood by my side, asking the servants to bring water and fresh bed linens. By the time the doctorarrived, I’d bathed Mama’s head and removed the heavy quilt she’d had over her.
David greeted his friend, who was younger than I would have thought, based on David’s recommendation of him. I had a vague memory of David saying James’s father had been the town doctor before him, so perhaps James grew up learning by his father’s side. James shook David’s hand quickly, called him by his Christian name, and came to Mama’s bedside.
James met my eyes. “I’m Dr. Clarke, a good friend of the family.” His brown eyes were full of kindness, but they gave me only a quick glance before he turned to Mama and opened his bag.
“Thank you for coming, Doctor,” I said.
He nodded, removing a stethoscope from his bag. I stood up and stepped back to allow Dr. Clarke to do his work. David took my hand and squeezed it tightly.
Fevers were unforgiving things.
Papa had been hale and hearty one day, then down in his bed the next. He didn’t leave his bed alive. My breathing started coming quicker, and David released my hand and put his arm over my shoulders. I turned my face into his neck and struggled in vain to hold back a sob.
His hand stroked my hair, warm and comforting. “She is going to be well, Anna. James and his father have been treating my family for years. You won’t find a better man, not even in London.”
I nodded into his neck with a sniff, but I couldn’t say anything. I was making a fool of myself. We hadn’t even heard what the doctor had to say. Perhaps the fever would be a quick one. Perhaps even now, she was starting to recover.
But as much as I wanted to gird myself and be strong, I couldn’t. If I lost Mama and David sent me away, I would be alone in the world. Completely alone.
Dr. Clarke cleared his throat softly, and David tugged lightly on my shoulder. I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and turned to face the doctor.
