A Promise for Ellie (40 page)

It must be time for her willow-bark tea again. Between that and the honey, her head and throat were both soothed. Just the thought of coughing made it happen. She took her cup and spoon out into the hall and leaned against the wall while she sucked in more air, forcing herself to breathe deeply, as Elizabeth insisted she do. Fighting to breathe reminded her of the fire and the fight. The fight and the fire. Both entwined with years of angry words and torment. Sometimes she wished she could knock their heads together. More violence. Violence begets violence.

Ingeborg joined her in the hallway. “You go on to bed now, and I’ll sit with him.” She motioned Ellie to the bed she’d just left.

Ellie nodded, her breathing easier again. “After I heat my tea.”

“I’ll do that. You go to bed. Do you need more pillows?”

Recovering from the coughing attack, Ellie just wanted to melt into a puddle and leak away, she was so weak. She shook her head and staggered to the bed, sinking down on the edge. After drinking the tea Ingeborg brought her, she lay back against the stack of pillows and tried to relax her breathing.
Lord, please help us all. Only you can
do this
.

“What do they mean, he won’t have visitors?” Thorliff stared at his father.

“Here’s the telegram; read it for yourself.” Haakan handed the piece of paper to his son.

No one is to come Stop No one Stop Andrew said Stop Gave him a
Bible Stop Olaf Wold
.

Thorliff made a face. “What did he do—leave his brains at home?”

“Now, now.” Ingeborg refilled their coffee cups. “I have a feeling Andrew is wrestling with more than we realize. Think how you would feel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I believe God is answering our prayers but not exactly the way we think He should.” Ingeborg looked up to see Ellie staring at her out of red-rimmed eyes.
You poor child. Father, hold her tight in
your mighty hand
. She thought to the many prayers she’d sent up, the times in the night when she got up and sat with her Bible on her lap, leafing through it to find the verses she needed. Verses to give her strength for the new day.
Lo, I am with you always
. She would repeat that over and over until she fell asleep in the chair, where Haakan often found her at daybreak.

“I’ve been praying too, but sometimes I can’t stop crying,” Ellie whispered. “I am so tired of crying.”

“I know.”

“I was going to take the train over to Grafton.” Thorliff propped his elbows on the table and sipped from his cup. “So the question is, do we abide by his wishes or do what we think best?”

Haakan and Ingeborg stared at each other. Haakan nodded. “We honor his wishes.”

“If you say so.”

“What about the court hearing on Monday?” Ellie asked.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Ingeborg glanced at the clock. “We need to be heading home soon.”

“I’d best get over to Solbergs’ to help with the threshing.” Haakan stood. “Come, I’ll give you a ride home.”

Ingeborg kissed Ellie’s cheek. “I’ll be back later. See if you can get some sleep.”

The hours stretched, measured by heartbeats and heels clanking the concrete. Late in the evening Sheriff Becker lived up to his reputation and threw two men in the other cells. “Sleep it off. That way you won’t go hurtin’ anyone else.”

Andrew ignored their drunken questions and comments. Soon they were snoring on their beds, the fumes of alcohol overlaying the stench of despair that seeped from the cold concrete walls.

Dreams deviled him through the night, and he woke to the peals of church bells greeting the dawn of Sunday morning. The Bible lay clenched in his hand.

“Well, that’s better,” Della said when she came to retrieve the tray. “You don’t go giving up hope, boy. Your life ain’t over yet.”

“Thank you. Mind if I keep the cup?”

“Not at all. I can bring you a basin of water if you want to wash up. Bronson’ll be along later to empty the slop pail.”

Andrew rubbed his jaw, finding a still tender spot from where Haakan had clobbered him. Wheat tares from the harvesting must have imbedded in his neck, the way it itched. Washing up sounded mighty good. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Andrew scrubbed face, arms, and neck, dumped the water into the slop bucket, and settled against the wall behind his bed, the Bible propped on his knees. At least when he was reading, the voices in his head put an end to their argument.

He read of Joseph in prison in Egypt for something he didn’t do. God brought him out of it. He read of the disciples in prison. They sang and worshiped, and God caused their release, Paul’s more than once. He read the Psalms where David pleaded for God to show His face, to hear him, to never forget him.
What about me? I deserve to be
in jail
. When night came, he tucked the Bible under his head again and slept deeply without the nightmares that had pursued him the night before.

A
NDREW’S IN JAIL.

Ellie had to remind herself of that over and over. And over and over she heard the
thunk
of Toby’s head against the packed dirt. If Toby died, Andrew would die too or spend the rest of his life in prison, which sounded far worse, in her opinion. It was as simple as that. Two days ago she was furious at him. Now she wept constantly, no longer on the outside, for she’d managed to gain some control. But on the inside the tears poured without ceasing, as did her prayers for him, for Toby, and for them all. When she had asked God to teach her to pray without ceasing, she’d never imagined this would be the way of learning.

“Ellie, time for you to go to bed. I’ll take over.” Ingeborg, with her ever-present knitting in her basket, stepped through the sickroom door on Sunday evening.

Ellie stood and stretched, remembering to breathe deeply as Elizabeth kept reminding her.

“Any change?”

“No, but how long can he live without eating?”

“That’s not a problem yet if we can keep getting enough fluids into him. Has there been any response when you talk with him?”

Ellie shook her head. Each time she came in and talked to Toby, she prayed this would be the time that he would blink, would talk, would give some indication that he was still alive in the husk of a body. But if he wasn’t alive, he wouldn’t be breathing, so he was alive. If she understood what Elizabeth meant by coma, his brain was asleep. They’d run out of ice the day before, and he had not had any convulsions. She’d been afraid he’d have them on her watch and she wouldn’t know what to do.

As Ingeborg began rubbing one of her simples, as she called them, into his arms and legs, Ellie headed for her bed next door. It was time for her to move out of the surgery. She’d felt that way all afternoon. She could go back to Penny’s, but she knew she wasn’t strong enough to help out at the store. Besides, Rebecca was working there now and very happily. She could go visit her family in Grafton, where she would be closer to Andrew, but he’d refused to allow her or anyone to come and visit him.

“Father God, will I never see him again?”
No, don’t even think that,
she ordered herself.
You’ve prayed for Andrew’s release from jail and
Toby’s release from the coma, now believe that God is answering your
prayers
. She climbed into bed and turned onto her side so she could look out the window.
I want to go home . . . to my house, to Andrew’s
and my house
.

What would the others say when she told them in the morning?

“But what if you need help?” Elizabeth studied her patient, who’d become such a good friend.

“I’ll run up a flag on a post. You know that I am so much better. And if I get out of breath, I shall sit down, just like I do here. Besides, I believe Toby will wake up soon and Andrew will come home. Then we’ll get married, and all will be well.”
If he still wants to marry me
. The thought kept nagging at her, especially after he told Olaf he didn’t want to see anyone. Her mor had tried to visit him with the same results.
Did I thank you, Father, for the telegraph? What a gift that
has been for us.

Andrew, what are you thinking? What is going on in that mind of
yours? Why do you cut us all out?

“I really don’t think your living alone yet is a good idea.”

“Well, I can’t walk that far out there every day, and there are things I could be doing.” Like harvesting the garden, although Astrid had assured her the beans had been picked and the corn wasn’t ready yet.
But she and I can take care of that together
.

Everyone was taking care of her, but she wanted to be taking care of others, mostly Andrew. Her mind always revolved back to Andrew.

“Let me think on it.” Elizabeth studied her patient. “Your breathing still concerns me.”

Andrew stood at attention in front of the judge on Monday morning. His stomach flip-flopped, and while he wanted to stuff his shaking hands into his pockets, he kept them at his sides.

The judge looked up from reading the sheriff ’s report. “Sounds like you lost your temper.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Has this happened before?”