the teakettle. James lifted one of the
two lids on the barrel stove and she set the kettle directly over the flame.
“We need something to make a tent close to the stove.” James looked about the room. “She can lie on the quilt box lid. Get
three chairs from the kitchen, Waller. Two to support the board, one for her feet.” Ben didn’t question; he hurried out of
the room.
“Oh, James. I’m so glad you’re here.” Dory hugged her brother’s arm.
He looked down and patted her hand. His brows came together in a puzzled frown.
“What did you do to your face?”
“Oh, that.” She covered her swollen jaw with her palm. “I got in a hurry and bumped it on the… door.”
James’s face relaxed. “What do we have that we could spread some blankets over to hold in the steam?”
“The folding bar you bought for me to dry the baby’s napkins when I couldn’t hang them outside. I cover it sometimes and let
Jeanmarie play under it.”
“That’s just the ticket. Get it, Sis. I’ll get blankets out of the other rooms.”
Dory paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Ben stood with his hand grasping the back of a chair, his head bent. She went to
him and placed her hand on his arm. He looked at her with eyes filled with misery.
“I’ve never even told her how important she is to me.”
“She knows. She loves you very much.”
“I’m all she has. She’s… all I have.” He took a deep breath and lifted the chair.
“James knows what he’s doing.”
“Thank God.”
Odette was wrapped in blankets and laid on the board near the stove. The clothes rack was placed over her and covered on three
sides with blankets to hold in the hot, moist air.
“Close the door, Sis. We don’t want a draft.” James turned the teakettle spout, and it sent out a plume of steam toward Odette’s
head.
Ben squatted down on his heels beside a small opening and watched as the makeshift tent filled with steam. As he listened
to Odette’s labored breathing, he promised himself that when she was better he would tell her how much she meant to him and
how glad he was that she was his daughter. He vowed never again to wonder if one of the Callahans had sired her. It no longer
mattered.
James roamed restlessly, stopping every so often to add a stick of wood to the stove.
“It’s getting pretty hot in here.” James peeled off a flannel shirt and unbuttoned the four top buttons of his union suit.
He eyed his sister’s sweaty face. Wet curls were sticking to her forehead. “You don’t have to stay in here, kinky head,” he
said affectionately. “Go make me and Waller some coffee.”
Dory went to Ben and leaned down close to his ear. “Is she breathing any easier?”
“Not yet. But her face and hair are damp from the steam so it must be going to her chest.”
Dory placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder and squeezed it. The action did not go unnoticed by James.
“Is there anything else we can do’?” Dory asked.
“You’ve tried the poultice and the liniment. The only other thing I know is to burn a mixture of turpentine and whiskey in
a tin can and hold her over the smoke. They say it will loosen up the stuff clogging her chest. I’ve not seen it tried, but
one of the men said that’s what his wife does when one of their young’uns gets choked up.”
“Shall we do that?” Dory asked anxiously.
“Let’s give this a try first.”
After Dory left the room, James sank down on the floor, leaned against the wall and studied Ben Waller. There was a tough,
confident look in the man’s face and a vigilance in his alert eyes that looked straight into James’s and refused to let him
stare him down. With the trained eye of a lumberman, able to size up another human being almost in an instant, James decided
Ben Waller would be a man to ride the river with. He almost smiled. Just the fact that Milo hated his guts was enough to make
James like him.
“I heard you had a set-to with
two lids on the barrel stove and she set the kettle directly over the flame.
“We need something to make a tent close to the stove.” James looked about the room. “She can lie on the quilt box lid. Get
three chairs from the kitchen, Waller. Two to support the board, one for her feet.” Ben didn’t question; he hurried out of
the room.
“Oh, James. I’m so glad you’re here.” Dory hugged her brother’s arm.
He looked down and patted her hand. His brows came together in a puzzled frown.
“What did you do to your face?”
“Oh, that.” She covered her swollen jaw with her palm. “I got in a hurry and bumped it on the… door.”
James’s face relaxed. “What do we have that we could spread some blankets over to hold in the steam?”
“The folding bar you bought for me to dry the baby’s napkins when I couldn’t hang them outside. I cover it sometimes and let
Jeanmarie play under it.”
“That’s just the ticket. Get it, Sis. I’ll get blankets out of the other rooms.”
Dory paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Ben stood with his hand grasping the back of a chair, his head bent. She went to
him and placed her hand on his arm. He looked at her with eyes filled with misery.
“I’ve never even told her how important she is to me.”
“She knows. She loves you very much.”
“I’m all she has. She’s… all I have.” He took a deep breath and lifted the chair.
“James knows what he’s doing.”
“Thank God.”
Odette was wrapped in blankets and laid on the board near the stove. The clothes rack was placed over her and covered on three
sides with blankets to hold in the hot, moist air.
“Close the door, Sis. We don’t want a draft.” James turned the teakettle spout, and it sent out a plume of steam toward Odette’s
head.
Ben squatted down on his heels beside a small opening and watched as the makeshift tent filled with steam. As he listened
to Odette’s labored breathing, he promised himself that when she was better he would tell her how much she meant to him and
how glad he was that she was his daughter. He vowed never again to wonder if one of the Callahans had sired her. It no longer
mattered.
James roamed restlessly, stopping every so often to add a stick of wood to the stove.
“It’s getting pretty hot in here.” James peeled off a flannel shirt and unbuttoned the four top buttons of his union suit.
He eyed his sister’s sweaty face. Wet curls were sticking to her forehead. “You don’t have to stay in here, kinky head,” he
said affectionately. “Go make me and Waller some coffee.”
Dory went to Ben and leaned down close to his ear. “Is she breathing any easier?”
“Not yet. But her face and hair are damp from the steam so it must be going to her chest.”
Dory placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder and squeezed it. The action did not go unnoticed by James.
“Is there anything else we can do’?” Dory asked.
“You’ve tried the poultice and the liniment. The only other thing I know is to burn a mixture of turpentine and whiskey in
a tin can and hold her over the smoke. They say it will loosen up the stuff clogging her chest. I’ve not seen it tried, but
one of the men said that’s what his wife does when one of their young’uns gets choked up.”
“Shall we do that?” Dory asked anxiously.
“Let’s give this a try first.”
After Dory left the room, James sank down on the floor, leaned against the wall and studied Ben Waller. There was a tough,
confident look in the man’s face and a vigilance in his alert eyes that looked straight into James’s and refused to let him
stare him down. With the trained eye of a lumberman, able to size up another human being almost in an instant, James decided
Ben Waller would be a man to ride the river with. He almost smiled. Just the fact that Milo hated his guts was enough to make
James like him.
“I heard you had a set-to with
Similar Books
