Serendipity (8 page)

Maybe so. Her Todd was such a good son. She’d grown terribly weary on the train, and he’d no doubt considerately arranged for them to stay at a stopover and rest
. I must have been utterly exhausted. I don’t recall changing into my nightgown.
Her arm and leg had gone to sleep. In a second her limbs would begin to tingle with a vengeance. Wanting to stave off that eventuality, Helga buckled to the shameful temptation to roll over and laze a moment before she left the mattress.

Flipping onto her back proved difficult. Pillows abounded – even a few behind her back, of all places. Silly to have to work at such a thing, but she made it. A chandelier dangled above her head.
No. Oh no. Father, don’t let this be real.
She reached up to test if it truly existed, but her arm refused to budge.

Bang!
The door hit the wall. Todd dashed in with a black-haired girl chasing behind. “Ma. Ma!” He cupped her face in his hands and got so close, he was all she could see. “Ma!”

It wasn’t until her lungs burned and she needed to draw another breath that Helga realized she’d been screaming.

“Shhh. Ma. Shhh. Shhh.”

“You’re doin’ a fine thing,” a twangy voice said. “Panic makes . . .” Whatever the stranger said got lost in Helga’s terrible fright.

Todd repeated the slow shushing sound, and Helga couldn’t help breathing along with him. She pulled herself together, only to burst into tears. “I can’t make my arm work.”

“I know, Ma.” He eased back and glanced off to the side.

“Don’t make her go through this again. Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.” The girl who came in with Todd stepped into view. “If it be your druthers, I’ll speak with her.”

Todd cleared his throat. “Ma, something went bad.” He halted and searched for words.

Each moment that passed without him saying something, Helga’s fears grew. A hand clasped hers and squeezed. “Mrs. Crewel, ma’am, I’m Margaret Rose.” Pretty thing had steady eyes. She mopped away the tears. “Ma’am, I need to know straight away: Are you suffering pain?”

“N-no.”

Todd let out a gust of a sigh. “God be praised at least for that.”

“Indeed!” The girl – Helga couldn’t recall her name – nodded a few times. “You had yourself a problem on the train. For now, both your left arm and leg aren’t working.”

Panic’s fingers started tightening around Helga’s windpipe again. “Leg?” She tried to move both of them. The right one bent immediately: the left didn’t budge
. Dear God, please –

“I didn’t want you to find out all on your lonesome,” the girl’s comment interrupted Helga’s supplication. “I’m sorry we weren’t by your side when you awoke. There’s a more than passing fair chance a portion of the use might return.”

While the girl spoke, Helga kept trying to make her arm and leg work. Even just her hand and foot. A simple wiggle or twitch . . . Yet nothing whatsoever happened. “A chance. But how much?”

“We can’t predict such a thing.” Todd gave her shoulder an awkward pat.

“I’ll teach your son how to help keep your limbs supple, and he tells me you’re a strong woman. That bodes well. You can learn to do things right-handed and keep taking care of yourself – at least partway.”

Combing her hair. Braiding it. Pinning it up. Getting dressed . . . Simple, everyday personal tasks required both hands. Walking . . . Walking! Balancing herself on a wagon seat. Getting up on tiptoe to gather eggs hens laid in odd places. Myriad chores and tasks whirled around in her mind. All required her to be of sound constitution.

“ ’Tis a powerful sorrow these words brought with them.” Miss Rose – that’s what Todd called her – wiped away more tears for her. Voice low and caring, she continued. “The train comes through next week, and in that time, I’ll help all I can. Even more, though, a legion of prayers has been a-marching up to God’s holy throne room, imploring His Eternal Majesty to grant you recovery.”

Next week? That wouldn’t be nearly enough time to recuperate.

“I’m stepping out to give the both of you time together.”

What would become of the plan for her to help out on her son’s farm? All she’d be now was a burden. Todd hadn’t said a word, but that was his nature. It made her feel far worse.

“Son, what are we to do?”

Todd finally sat on the edge of the bed. Pressing both of her hands between his, she felt his strength seeping into her. “We’ll trust in God, Ma. He has never failed.”

“A lovely morning to you.” Maggie pulled opened the curtains and allowed the natural light into the room. “After three days of a fearsome storm – Paw-Paw said he’s not seen one that bad in all his years – well, the sunshine on the snow sets everything a-sparkle. Take a look-see.”

Mrs. Crewel drearily turned her head away. “Go pester someone else.”

Maggie took no offense at her patient’s rudeness. Quite often, folks had a few testy days after taking ill. “I already fed the men. Even that storm hasn’t kept them from accomplishing enough to warrant a pair of new toolboxes, and they’re still going strong. Today they’re reroofing sections of the barn. Mr. Valmer already reinforced Mr. Elding’s porch. You must be proud of that boy you reared.” Maggie slid a hand beneath the woman’s shoulders and pulled out the pillow.

“He sees a need and tends it.” Mrs. Crewel grabbed the pillow with her right hand. The two women stared at one another, sizing up the foe in the sudden tug-of-war.

“Ma’am, you stayed abed yesterday and had time to accustom yourself to the news. But the longer you laze, the less you’ll recover. I have breakfast here for you, too.” Having made her point, Maggie took full possession of the pillow.

Mrs. Crewel lay stubborn as a board nailed every two inches to a foundation. “I choked on water and broth. It’s no use trying anything more.”

“Once we kept fingers pressed to that side of your throat, you didn’t choke.” Maggie stuck the pillow against the headboard and tapped an arm of the chandelier. “Reach on up here with your good hand. Bend your good knee and push against the bed whilst I scoot you upward. We’ll work together, and you’ll be pulling your own weight.”

“I know I’m fat; you didn’t have to tell me. But it’s all the more reason why I won’t eat.”

“I spoke of responsibility, not weight. When you get to Texas, your son needs to rig up something similar. That way, as you start to regain use of your limbs, you can work the muscles for strength, as well.” Ignoring her patient’s grumbling, Maggie sat her against the headboard. “And now for a treat!”

Mrs. Crewel spied the invalid cup. “I’m not using that! I used one just like it to feed my babies.”

The device looked much like a teapot with the handle reglued to be at a forty-five-degree angle from the spout. Instead of a lid, half of the top remained open. “Nonsense. I’ll brace your throat muscles. You hold the cup and keep control of the flow.”

A truculent expression warned Maggie the woman had dug in her heels. “Once you’ve eaten, we’ll wash you up and sit you in my wheelchair. Just think how much that will please your son.” Those words earned her instant cooperation.

After his mother successfully ate some breakfast, Mr. Valmer helped set her in the wooden wheelchair. A deep, pleased chuckle rumbled out of him as he stepped back. “Look at you!” Almost immediately, she sagged to her left. “Ma!”

In less than a blink Maggie propped her with a pillow in a strategic spot. Next, she took a wide strip of cloth and draped it across her patient’s shoulder and tied it to a thick grosgrain ribbon by her hip. Now Mrs. Crewel wouldn’t slump and slide straight out of the chair. “You look regal as a queen a-wearing her ceremonial sash.”

“I can’t believe you have a wheelchair.” Mr. Valmer stared at the back of the wooden, cane-seated premier model.

“The mark of a professional barterer is that they anticipate needs. If I waited until someone got hurt, they’d have to wait two weeks to get one.”

Mrs. Crewel stared out the window and gasped. “The storm blew over someone’s house! How heartbreaking. They’ve lost everything they owned. Just look at that pathetic mess out there.”

Mr. Valmer went ruddy. “Uh, Ma?”

Maggie raised a hand and shook her head. No need trying to correct the poor, misguided woman. Her heart was in the right place.

Combing the woman’s hair, she reassured, “In time, everything out there will wind up right where it belongs.”

Each day for five days, Todd grabbed every opportunity to pass time with Miss Rose, exchange stories, and pitch in with anything Ma needed. Convinced Miss Rose was the one for him, he strove to give her cause to trust and rely on him.

He needed her, if any hope remained of keeping his farm. He could picture his winter wheat withering, weeds abounding, and wolves eating his chickens – or worse, preying on his hogs or horses. He’d almost lost his colts to the wolves weeks ago. Though the vet had discounted his fees significantly, it drained what little Todd had stashed away. He needed bumper crops this year to keep his head above water.

At any moment he could state how much time had elapsed since he’d worked his own land and how much more time remained before he’d return. Two more nights, two more days, and he’d finally be on the train for thirty-one hours. Somehow, he had to convince spry old Bo Carver to give his blessing, appeal to Miss Rose with a proposal she’d accept, and marry her – all before the train came.

One step at a time. Tonight, the consent. Tomorrow, the proposal.
Then Monday, we’ll marry and depart.
Todd knew he’d petitioned the Lord for a string of miracles. Heal Ma. Keep the farm going and the animals well. And now this desperate timeline . . .

Todd had noted that occasionally, Mr. Carver helped him wrangle a little time with Miss Rose. He’d think of something urgent to tell his niece, then send Todd as his messenger. No matter where Miss Rose sat at the table, one of the men beside her would move – allowing Todd to take his place. Those things ought to have boded well.

They didn’t. For every instance when Mr. Carver assisted his courting efforts, there was another when he just as surely blocked it. Today Miss Rose’s uncle volunteered him to repair a neighbor’s roof. That reeked of keeping him away from his niece. It worked, too.

Absence didn’t just make the heart grow fonder; it made Todd more stubborn. Miss Rose’s stunning appearance caught his attention, and her kind ways and spirited nature charmed him. Most of all, her Christlike heart captivated him. He’d waited for the right woman. Now that he found her, Todd wasn’t going to let go.

Barely quelling a snort, he cast a rueful glance at Mr. Carver as they headed toward the barn. Those trips to carry messages were probably his way of providing Todd with an excuse to check on Ma. And the old fellows – they’d done all the musical chairs because they teased Miss Rose. Blinded by their love, the old men probably didn’t even consider she might ever leave them. The minute he brought up the subject to Mr. Carver, the two of them would undoubtedly tangle. But Todd was determined to win this war.

“Can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve given,” Mr. Carver said as Todd opened the barn door.

“I’m happy to be of help.” Todd followed him inside. “Though, tonight, it was a sacrifice to stay and finish that last section while the other men went ahead and ate supper.”

“Nothing’s better’n one of my Magpie’s meals.” Mr. Carver set his toolbox down in the barn and looked up with glee at the roof they’d repaired a few days ago.