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“You’re not the only one losing sleep. I heard Bailey screaming last night as she woke from a nightmare. It was awful.”
“If a bad dream is all that lingers from what that girl went through, it’d be a miracle.”
“Bailey is still in danger?” King pressed, desperate for the answer. Not so he could call Carmen and confirm her fears but because he wanted to lash out at anything that might harm Bailey.
“Talk to her. Work by her. Listen to her fears. Wake her from those nightmares. You’ll figure out all you need to that way. I’m going to water the plants out front. Eat up. You’re going to need your energy. Last I heard you’re slinging boulders around today.”
“Boulders?”
“Well, rocks. The dam collapsed and we need to build it back up. It’s back-breaking work. That sound fun?”
“I think my back is already broken.” He winced and reached around to his sore muscles. “But I’m ready to help anyway I can.”
“Heal up,” she said, shuffling out the door. “We need you strong. A soldier for the battle.”
Mrs. Tully was out the door, humming some little tune before he could press for more answers. The hair on the back of his neck stood up the way it used to when Lou would fly off the handle. King didn’t have flight built in. Only fight. And he knew he had to be prepared to start swinging if the time came.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Bailey
Dr. Murray looked as though he’d seen a ghost when he stepped away from her mother’s bed. He drew in a deep breath and placed his stethoscope back around his neck.
“I know you weren’t scheduled to come back around this way for a week, but she wasn’t acting like herself this morning,” Bailey apologized. “She seemed like she was getting worse.”
“It’s no trouble,” Dr. Murray replied, pushing his wire-rim glasses up a little higher on his nose. “She’s incredibly dehydrated and the pain she’s experiencing, I believe is from the infection spreading. Without more testing done at the hospital, I can’t do much to help. I think it’s time we bring her in. She’s at a very high risk to go into sepsis.”
“No,” her mother snapped, the most lucid she’d been all morning. “I’m not going to the hospital. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Mama, please, can we just—”
Her mother winced in terrible pain as she tried to sit up. “Get out,” she hissed at Dr. Murray. “You’re a heathen. I don’t want you and your poisons. Go.”
To his credit Dr. Murray never flinched. He just nodded politely. “I’ll let you two talk. Get in touch with me today if she’s willing to go in. Otherwise, I’m afraid the pain and the fleeting lucidity will just get worse.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Bailey folded her arms across her chest as he stepped out of the door. “Mama, I need to you understand what the doctor is saying.”
“I know what he’s saying and I know why he’s saying it. He’s testing my faith and my allegiance to this place and your father.”
“No, he’s saying you’re dehydrated, your infection is taking over your body and your pain will get much worse if you don’t go to the hospital. It has nothing to do with Dad or faith. It’s science. It’s facts.”
“You’re foolish if you don’t see it,” her mother spat out angrily. “Why did you always have to challenge him and make him so angry. He was never angry until you made him that way.”
The self-doubt spread from her toes to the tingle in her scalp. She and her mother had miraculously avoided these conversations over the years. Bailey had been the one to put her father in jail, and yet they’d hardly ever addressed it. Her mother was an expert at that type of compartmentalizing. When Bailey returned to Cinderhill she was welcomed with open arms. Mostly because her mother’s health was beginning to fail slightly and she didn’t want to be alone. Alone was worse than the betrayal Bailey had caused.
“He doesn’t matter anymore, Mama. Your health is all we’re talking about.”
“Blasphemy. The crops won’t grow if you talk like that. The earth will be barren and dry. How could you turn your back on your father? After all he did for the people here. He knew there would be trials. That his people would be tested and some would fail. But for it to be you...”
“Mama, we’re talking about infections. Medicine. Comfort care. You shouldn’t be suffering. There is no need to be in pain when Dr. Murray is able to help you.”
“I failed him.” There was only a single tear that trailed down her mother’s cheek before her eyes snapped shut. “They will be back. You know they are coming. It’s they who we must submit to.”
“Never,” Bailey whispered. “Never again.” She balled her hands into fists. The anger was not directed at her mother, but there was no one else here to lash out at.
“He designed a life for you. It was pre-ordained. All you had to do was submit and obey. That was never something you would even consider.” Her mother kept her eyes closed as if wishing she could transport herself to sometime in the past. A time when her husband was still in power and his promises, the grandiose plans, felt attainable.
“You should want more for your daughter than what he had sentenced me to. According to him, I was supposed to be married to a man twice my age. I was supposed to be an obedient servant of the land for the rest of my life. That’s what he wanted for me. He was unwell and he was dangerous. I deserved more than that and you deserve more than this.” Bailey gestured around the room at the herbs and spices that were meant to heal her mother but so far had been unsuccessful.
