River Runs Deep by Jennifer Bradbury Page B

like Nick was doing anything wrong, was he? Buying his freedom, all things considered, seemed the most honorable way to get free.
    But still. Doctor Croghan owned the cave. And the fish. Did that mean Nick was stealing from him?
    But in a flash of clear, quiet thought, Elias understood that he didn’t care. He only hoped there were enough fish hiding in these waters to make up what Nick needed.

Chapter Eight
STRANGLE KNOT
    L et us say a special prayer on behalf of our departed friend, the widow Patton.”
    Elias’s head yanked up. The widow Patton?
    Departed?
    Though he’d never met her, having barely even heard her voice while he waited outside during Croghan’s rounds only a week or so before, the knowledge that she’d died shuddered through Elias.
    Dead. Just like that, he thought. She was alive yesterday, and now she was not. It seemed awfully unfair that she’d put herself down there, stayed in the dark, and did what the doctor said, only to die.
    The cave was supposed to be making them better. Supposed to be giving Croghan time to cure them. But was anybody besides Elias improving?
    Maybe the widow had been too old to fight off the consumption, or maybe she hadn’t squared up with Doc Croghan’s remedies. He reminded himself how important it was that he follow the doctor’s prescriptions and avoid the little treats Jonah left, no matter how tempting they were.
    But poor widow Patton.
    He bowed his head and prayed along with the rest of them that the Lord would speed her along to his side in paradise. “Amen,” Pastor Tincher finished. They all sat down to eat. Doctor Croghan had thought it might benefit them all to take Sunday supper together. Stephen and Mat and the others had set up long tables and benches in the space outside Doctor Croghan’s office, which blazed with light. It was a stone hut just like so many of the others, but it had a wooden floor, a proper door, and an honest-to-Pete roof.
    As they’d walked in, Elias had been teased by the smell of the cooking fire and bacon grease. And through the blessing his stomach had flipped and rolled, his mouth watering at all the food soon to be spread on the table. There was ham sizzling, and Elias was almost sure he could smell potatoes. What he wouldn’t give for a mess of potatoes fried up crisp and golden, thick slices of greasy onions mixed in the pile. But when he sat down, Lillian passed him by with her big skillet full of home fries. Hannah acted like she might give him some of that bread she was carrying round before she remembered. Finally Nick brought him a plate of fried eggs, three of them, and his mug of tea. His eyes signaled his apology for Elias’s sad plate.
    Elias sighed, picked up his fork, and ate dutifully.
    After he finished he sat and listened to the adults talking. But they all seemed out of practice with visiting, and none protested as Hannah and Lillian began escorting them back to the huts.
    Elias, however, had no intention of wasting another day in his room.
    â€œHey, Bishop!” Elias whispered when Stephen came close to collect plates. “Nick took me out fishin’ yesterday!”
    Stephen picked up a teacup. “So I heard.”
    â€œWhat’re we gonna do today?” Elias asked Stephen.
    Stephen stopped stacking the plates and dropped his voice low. “We can’t bring you out today.”
    Elias’s heart sank. “But you said—”
    â€œAll of us got things to do.”
    â€œBut . . . it’s Sunday,” Elias argued.
    â€œSunday doesn’t mean the same thing for us,” Stephen said, his voice curt.
    Stung, Elias settled for the next best thing. Stephen had books, books Elias hadn’t read the words off the pages yet. “C’n I have a look at some of your books, then maybe? I was thinking I wouldn’t mind seeing them maps—”
    If a body hadn’t been watching, they’d have thought