Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (33 page)

If Rocky appreciated all her efforts, he didn't say. In fact, it
seemed to her he made every effort to be ornery. At times, she
wanted to shake him. Did he even recall those tender moments
out behind the house just before the fire started? Was he now
trying to drive her away with his testiness, figuring the harsher
he was, the better his chances of keeping her at a distance?

Seth's cough lengthened for a time and then quieted. Sarah slipped off the sofa and tiptoed to his bed. Relief flooded
through her when she found him sleeping, his forehead cooler.
Perhaps by morning he'd be good as new.

Across the room, Rachel also slept. Apparently, her brother's coughing spells had not disturbed her. Sarah carefully
covered a section of bare arm then brushed a tendril of hair
away from the child's angelic face. How she'd come to love this
family.

Finally, satisfied that the household slept peacefully, she
meandered back to the couch. Minutes later, sleep overtook
her as well.

The first ray of sunlight worked its way through a gap in
the curtains, coming to rest on Sarah's face and forcing her
awake. Morning shadows cast strange forms across the dark,
rustic walls of the small house. She shivered at the thought
of crawling out from under the blankets, but also knew the
importance of feeding the fire before its flame went out. She'd
gotten up once to see to it, but from the looks of things, so had
Rocky. There were fewer logs in the bin than when she'd last
looked. She made a mental note to haul in several more pieces
after breakfast.

Seth coughed about the time she pulled herself upright.
She frowned. From the sound of it, he hadn't improved. If
anything, the spasms put her in mind of a barking dog, dry
and hacking. She slipped into her long robe and hurried to
the children's room. Rocky met her in the doorway, his black
hair tousled, his eyes reflecting worry.

"The boy doesn't sound good," he muttered. "When did
he start coughing like that?"

Sarah couldn't help but notice bare feet peeking out from denim pant legs and a crop of thick chest hairs behind his
yet unbuttoned shirt. Of course, she'd seen him before when
she'd nursed his burns, even studied him longer than required
while he slept unawares, telling herself he was not only her
husband, but also her patient, and she had every right to look.
Now, however, she saw him through different eyes, identifying
a raw masculinity she'd ignored before.

"I noticed it yesterday," she confessed in a whisper, well
aware of their close proximity.

"You didn't mention it."

"I hoped that it might be a passing germ, that he'd be
much improved by this morning."

His brow went into an immediate grimace. "Doc says a lot
of kids are getting sick. He's not sure what's at the root."

A tight ball of fear dropped to the bottom of her stomach
and bounced around. "Did he seem overly concerned?"

"I couldn't tell. I'd say he was baffled. Said not to go speaking about it lest we cause a stir among folks."

Sarah peeked past the doorway to where the boy slept fitfully, his every breath now punctuated by a raspy moan. Without hesitation, she rushed to his side and touched cool fingers
to his forehead. The shock of cold meeting hot forced her to
retract, much in the way she might have reacted after touching
a hot stove.

Rocky observed the reaction and immediately touched
Seth's forehead for himself.

"We need to get Doc over here-now."

"I'll dress," Sarah said, turning.

Rocky caught her by the arm. "No, I'll go. You stay here
and see what you can do to bring down the fever."

"But you're still not well enough to ride," Sarah argued.

Rocky tipped her chin up with his index finger. "I'll be
fine. Just do as I say. I'll be back as soon as possible."

She gave a nod of compliance, then watched him head
back to the bedroom to finish dressing. Within minutes, he
was out the door, and seconds after that, she heard the clomp
of horses' hooves beating a path toward town.

iphtheria?" Rocky's gut twisted into a sickening knot.
"I'm not sure I know what that is, Doc."

Doc Randolph pulled at his thick, gray beard and cleared
his throat. "Well, it's a type of respiratory illness, Rocky.
Spreads mostly among children, although it's been known to
strike adults. Just not as likely. I've been up most of the night
reading from this medical book." He pointed at the thick
volume lying open on his desk. "I suspect that's what we're
dealing with."

Doc sighed deeply, pushed back his chair, and stood.
Rocky watched him stack papers into one gigantic pile. Once
done with that, he turned and yanked his coat off a nearby
hook, slipped it on, and picked up his trusty black bag. "Your
nephew is not the only one sick, as I was mentioning yesterday.
Seems both Gus and Lenora Humphrey are down with it, as
are the Hogsworth twins. Then there's little Molly Broughton
and Thomas Bergen.

"Last night Bess Barrington brought Erlene straight to my
office. Wish she hadn't done that, but I guess she thought it was
the quickest way to reach me. Problem is there were a couple
of other folks in here when she brought her in. I'm afraid they
may have been exposed."

Rocky didn't know what to make of all Doc's talk. "You
think it's bad, then?"

"Describe your nephew's symptoms again," Doc said, pushing Rocky toward the door. Doc always had been good at skirting issues for which he had no answers.

"He's very restless. Has a high fever and a bad cough. Sarah's trying to cool him off as we speak. Should we be worried,
Doc?"

They stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk. "It's a mighty
frosty morning," Doc muttered, pulling his collar up. "I'll head
over and see if Sam has my wagon ready. How about I meet
you out at your place?"

A bad case of nerves coupled with the brisk air made Rocky
shiver. "Doc, you're not answering my questions."

The older man tipped his face up toward the sky as if to
study it for any incoming storms. "That's because I don't want
to make any snap judgments, son. It's still early."

"Well, what if it is this-this diphtheria-is it dangerous?"

Doc shoved one hand through his gray hair and shrugged.
"Could be. All depends on a variety of things."

"Such as?"

Doc heaved a sigh. "How advanced the cough is, whether
there's wheezing or blood in the mucus.. .how high the body
temperature is, things of that nature."

Doc started walking, so Rocky tagged along, determined
to get answers before heading for his place. "What if Seth has
all the worst symptoms? Can he-could he...?"

Doc trudged on, looking straight ahead. "Try not to think
the worst, son."

Perhaps it was an overreaction, but Rocky took the doctor
by the arm, forcing him to stop midstride. "Doc, I lost Hester to smallpox three years ago and Joseph to something nameless just months ago. Don't tell me not to think the worst."

Understanding seemed to have lit in Doc's eyes. "I know
that, son, and I can appreciate your concern." He put his hand
on Rocky's arm. "But for now, let's try not to jump to any
conclusions. Give me a chance to examine your boy. Maybe it's
just a bad cold."

"I can't lose Seth. I haven't had the chance to..." But he
left the sentence dangling, unsure where he was even heading
with it.

Just days ago, he'd fought for Rachel's life; now it seemed
that Seth's might be hanging in the balance. He'd barely
taken the time to get to know his niece and nephew; he had
been more concerned with time constraints, workload, and
keeping a safe distance for the sake of his own heart. Now
regrets bombarded him from every direction. Dear God, he
prayed from his very depths, please don't let anything happen
to that boy.

Rocky pulled into the farm a few minutes ahead of Doc.
After he saw to his and Doc's horses, they walked to the house,
Doc quiet, Rocky's stomach a bundle of nerves.

Sarah met them at the door, her eyes pools of concern as
she looked from Rocky to Doc Randolph. Rachel was hugging
Sarah's side, looking equally troubled.

"How is he?" Rocky asked.

She shook her head. "He doesn't seem to be responding to
the cool baths. I'm worried."

Doc moved past them and straight into Seth's room, Rocky,
Sarah, and Rachel on his tail. Ironic how not even a year had
passed since the doc had seen to Joseph and been forced to admit he couldn't help the child, his fever having drained him
of life before its source could even be determined. Now Doc's
concerns were for a different little boy. Rocky fretted history
was repeating itself.

Doc bent over Seth to lift each eyelid. The poor boy lay
limp and nonresistant, seemingly drained, his eyes open but
lifeless, the fever taking its toll. Silently Doc went for his black
bag and retrieved his stethoscope and various of other supplies. He worked quietly, probing various areas of the boy's
body, assessing his heart rate and temperature, then looking
in Seth's ears and down his throat with a long, thin object.

"What is it, Doc?" Rocky asked when the man finally stood
to face them. Sarah squeezed his hand hard. He found himself
squeezing back, drawing strength from her viselike grip.

Doc's calm eyes gave way to wariness. "I can't be 100 percent certain," he muttered in low tones, "but I'm fairly sure it's
diphtheria."

Sarah gasped. "I had that as a child!" she quickly reassured Rocky. "It wasn't pleasant, but as you can see, I'm fine. I
had a terrible sore throat, though, and they quarantined me
for several days."

Doc raised thick, gray brows. "You've built a natural immunity to the disease, then-and before they'd even developed
the antitoxin. That's good news."

Sarah bent over Seth and touched his forehead. "Don't
worry, sweetheart. You're going to be just fine." Seth managed
a weak nod of the head.

"Will he, Doc?" Rocky asked, keeping his voice low.

Doc led Rocky out of the room and away from inquisitive
ears. Thankfully Rachel didn't follow.

"Have any coffee on that stove?" he asked.

Rocky walked to the stove where Sarah had prepared a
fresh pot. He grabbed a couple of tin mugs from behind the
curtain and filled both with the steaming brew.

After Doc took a couple of sips, he said, "There was an
antitoxin developed for diphtheria a few years back. I'm betting that Lexington has some on hand. I'll need to put in a call
as soon as I get back to town."

"Do you want me to go fetch it for you?"

"You're not strong enough yet, Rocky. I'll find some other
able-bodied man."

Rather than argue, Rocky asked, "How long before Seth
starts feeling better?"

Doc clutched the mug between his hands. "Unfortunately,
the antitoxin will not neutralize the disease that's already in
his body, but it will serve to prevent it from progressing. Only
time will tell, I'm afraid."

"So you're saying Seth's ailment has already reached a
dangerous stage?"

Doc took a swig of coffee, then studied the ceiling before
speaking. "Seth's throat and neck are alarmingly swollen,
which could impair his airwaves. And I saw some evidence
of bleeding in the back of his throat. He wasn't tracking very
well with his eyes, either, probably due to double vision. That,
coupled with his high temperature and lethargic behavior, has
me worried. I'm afraid we're going to have to keep a very close
watch on him. It could be touch and go for a while."

He cast a wary glance in the direction of Seth's bedroom.
"There's a chance the little girl could contract the disease as
well. Best to keep her away from her brother. In fact, it'd be a good idea for both you and Rachel to go to your parents'
house. Since Sarah had it as a child, she's safe. But you and
Rachel..."

"I'll take Rachel to my folks' house, but I'm staying here."

Doc nodded, apparently realizing the futility in arguing. "I'll start Rachel on the antitoxin as soon as it comes in.
The truth is, if she isn't sick yet, she'll probably be fine, but it
doesn't hurt to take precautions." Doc put down the mug of
coffee. "I best be on my way. I'll come back with the antitoxin
just as soon as I have it in my possession. I haven't checked on
the others yet, but I'd say Seth is about as bad off as any I've
seen. If many more come down with it, we may have to set up
a hospital at my place. This disease usually requires weeks to
play itself out."