To Follow Her Heart Page 12

  She waited under the spread of the huge corner apple tree. As he joined her, she took a deep breath and looked up into his face. “I remember you telling me long ago Barney loved me, he just didn’t know how to show me. Now it seems you are right there where he was all those years ago. Jeremy, you cannot keep Patience waiting. You make her feel like she is not important to you. We’ve always been able to talk. I love you like a brother, and I want you to be happy. Prithee, tell me what is wrong. Why do you run from marriage? Because that is what you do.”

  His face was pure panic. She’d not meant to cause him pain. But he needed a jolt.

  “I don’t know, Mary. If you want to talk about long ago, I can do that. When Barn lost Ann, I saw how fragile life is. And he couldn’t stop loving her, but he married you, and that seemed so unfair to you. I saw Barn with his pain, and you with your pain, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I just decided life was so much easier at sea. I didn’t feel pain, and I didn’t inflict pain. It became a way of life for me, even after I fell in love with Patience. She knew I would come back, but she always knew I’d be leaving, too.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Does any of this make sense?”

  “Life is fragile, and none of us have a promise that we won’t lose someone we love very much. But to not let love into your life out of fear does not make any sense. Most of us would not accomplish anything in our life if we let fear guide us. That’s where we depend on God.”

  “It seems when my ship wrecked and tossed me into the ocean, God was telling me He had more in store for me than sailing the high seas, does it not?”

  Mary softened her gaze. “I think He spared your life for a purpose.”

  “I’ve given it much thought and I’ve promised God to go where He leads. I do need to ride out to Flushing with Dirk when he returns. You must understand that there are responsibilities that come with living here.” His green eyes pleaded with her.

  She let out a deep sigh. “That is just one of the things that makes Patience feel unimportant. You’d best be ready to marry her when you get back. Promise me?”

  He chuckled and took her arm as they walked back to the barn. “You can tell Patience that I will be a lucky man when she is mine to have and to hold.”

  19

  October 2, 1664

  Patience was wandering the aisles at the mercantile, looking at supplies for Dame School, when Jeremy rushed in, alarm in his eyes, his mouth rigid. She nearly dropped a bottle of ink. “What? What is it?”

  “Dirk and Heather Flower just arrived from Montauk. It’s Heather Flower. She’s ill. Let me take you home. Dirk is already putting her in bed.”

  She put the ink back, and they rushed to her house. Dirk was upstairs, and he called to them when they came through the door. Jeremy took the steps two at a time, and she hurried up after him, clutching her skirts.

  She was saddened by what she saw. Heather Flower lay on the bed in her soft deerskin dress. Her glossy black hair spread out on the pillow like a dark cloud. Her eyes were closed, her breathing labored. Her creamy copper skin had taken an ashen hue and was moist with sweat. Mosh lay beside her on the bed, his chin draped over her arm, lids half closed over his blue eyes.

  Patience grabbed Dirk’s arm. “What happened?”

  “She was fine when we first arrived at Montauk. She was with her people, and she was celebrating with them. They had a powwow and feasts. She presented them with her wampum belt. But she began to feel very tired. She just wanted to sleep. We’d been there about twelve days and planned to stay a day or two longer. But I could see she needed to get back here and see the doctor.”

  Patience turned to Jeremy. “Does Doctor Smith know? Is he coming?”

  “Yes, he should be here soon.” Jeremy rubbed his arm across his forehead. “I’m going to get some cold water from the well.”

  “Very good—I’ll get some cloths. I can bathe her with the cold water and get her into some bedclothes while we wait for the doctor.”

  Dirk shook his head. “I think she has smallpox. When we came through Shelter Island, Nathaniel told me Mr. Barnes is very sick with the pox. Heather Flower must have caught it from him. We were there the morning he fell sick.”

  Jeremy shook his head in disbelief. “No. I hope not.”

  “I’ve had the smallpox—back when my family was in Boston, before we came down to Long Island. I can take care of her. But Dirk, you may already be infected.” Worry etched its way across Patience’s brow.

  “I don’t care. Ja, I might be sick, but even if I’m not, I wouldn’t leave her side.”

  She turned to Jeremy. “Have you ever had the pox, Jeremy?”

  “Yes, and so have Barn and Benjamin. Joseph, too. We all got sick the year Ann died.”

  Dirk looked up. “Barnabas’s first wife?”

  “Yes. I think even Mary had the pox that year—so many in Mowsley did—but I’m not sure about Lizzie. And that’s the thing to remember, Dirk. People do survive this.” Jeremy headed for the stairs. “I’ll get the water.”

  Heather Flower moaned, Dirk sat on her bedside, and Patience ran to get the cloths. After Jeremy returned with the cold water, he took Dirk down to the kitchen to find something to eat.

  Patience pushed Mosh out the door and made him follow them. “You need something to eat, too, boy. Then you can come back. She will be here waiting for you. Go now.”

  She closed the door and began to gently pull the dress off Heather Flower’s limp body. She bathed her with the cold water, dipping the cloth back into the pail with each stroke. When she finished, she pulled the fresh bedclothes on and pulled back the covers of the bed. She remembered Doctor Smith’s advice for fever and decided not to tuck her in, but left the quilt at her side.

  She sat down next to her on the bed and leaned over to wring out another cloth for her forehead. She heard the doctor on the steps with Jeremy and Dirk and stood as they entered. “I am so glad to see you. She’s very sick. She’s not stirred at all while I gave her a cold bath. But I don’t see any blisters on her, so how could this be smallpox? I remember the blisters.”

  Doctor Smith shook his head. “We won’t know right away.” He looked at Dirk. “When did her fever start?”

  Dirk looked so weary, but he roused himself to look at the doctor. “Just today. Before today, she was all right. Well, not completely. She was tired. But she sat next to a man a couple of weeks ago who came down with the pox. He was sick the day we saw him.” His voice trailed.

  “Then we need to watch her closely for the next few days. If she has the pox, she’ll start breaking out with red spots. They won’t be blisters at first. But we won’t know for sure until we see the spots.”

  Mosh came to her bed, but this time he jumped up on the end and settled at her feet. He rested his muzzle on his paws.

  As the doctor bent over Heather Flower, Patience picked up the deerskin dress and brushed the dust from it before she folded it and put it in the trunk at the foot of her bed. To keep busy was best, but she was running out of things to do.

  Jeremy offered his hand, and she stepped over to him and into his arms. He led her out of the bedroom and held her on the landing. “Russell is the best physician in all of New England. If anyone can save her, it is he.”

  “I pray so. But I was thinking while we waited for him how the native people here seem to react to illness in a much more severe way than we do. Look at Winnie and Winheytem. Gone before we knew it. I hope Heather Flower is stronger than they were.”

  “You need something to eat. Let’s go downstairs, and I will set out some cheese and bread. That’s what Dirk and I had. You need something, too.”

  She looked down at her yellow linen dress, now dotted with water spots. “I’m not hungry. I think I shall just wait here until the doctor is finished. Perhaps you should go and tell Barnabas and Mary. She will want to come.”

  He pressed her close to him, and she closed her eyes against his chest. His strength buoyed her, and as he left for his
brother’s house, she took a deep breath. As she waited for Doctor Smith to come out, she prayed for strength for Heather Flower. And she prayed for her own strength, no matter what came her way.

  When she felt she could not pray any longer, nor wait any longer, the door finally opened. Doctor Smith smiled at her. “She’s awake now and would like to see you. Dirk told me you’ve had smallpox, as have most of the Hortons, so I will not restrict you from visiting and caring for her. Dirk will need a lot of help and support. He could be ill and we just don’t know it yet. I can’t convince him to stay away.”

  “I know. I pray he won’t get sick. But I fear that’s all we can do.”

  “Very well, but if you can convince him to sit downstairs and allow you to give her direct care, then that would be best. But I’m leaving it up to him.”

  She watched him go downstairs, then went into the bedroom to see her friend. “I’m so glad to see you awake. Let me get you another bolster so you may sit up, and can I bring you a cup of water?”

  Heather Flower gave her a weak smile and stretched out her arms. “Sit, my friend. Sit beside me for a moment.”

  She sat down and held Heather Flower’s hands. “You must get well. And you must tell Dirk to go downstairs so that he stays well for you.” She smiled up at Dirk.

  He didn’t say a word. Just sat in his chair, pulled as close as he could get it.

  “My husband, this does us no good. Not you and not me. Go, like Patience says. Sit downstairs. I am feeling better already. Take care of yourself. For me, like she says.” She nodded toward Patience.

  He stood. “I cannot argue with the both of you, and I’m encouraged to see you so much yourself this evening. I’ll be downstairs.” He looked at Patience. “Call me if she needs anything at all.”

  “I will, Dirk. And you can bring her a cup of water before you get settled. We shall let you do that.”

  His eyes lit with pleasure, and he bowed and went to get the drink.

  Patience found an extra bolster and propped it behind Heather Flower’s back. She settled in the chair Dirk had vacated. After he delivered the cup of water, along with a full pitcher, Heather Flower took a long drink, then set the cup down on the little table beside the bed.

  Patience settled back, and without too much prompting, her friend told her all about the visit to Montauk. Of the little children running circles around her, of the old ladies smiling broadly and wanting her to wear one of her silk dresses. They were disappointed when she told them she’d brought only her deerskin tunic. But they were pleased when she explained how much her native dress meant to her. The men enjoyed Dirk’s company, and they all celebrated her return.

  It was a solemn occasion when she presented the wampum belt to the medicine man. But when she began to feel tired and the dread of illness gnawed at her, she found she did not want to seek help from the medicine man. She wanted to keep her fears from her people. And so she asked Dirk to take her back to Southold. To her friends.

  “I am so glad you came back. You might have died there, but here we have Doctor Smith, and he is wonderful. You already look better.”

  There was a tap on the door, and before Patience could respond, Mary peeked in. “May I come in?”

  “Yes.” They answered as one, and Mary smiled as she entered.

  “You are looking so much better than I expected, and I think it must be an answer to prayer.” She patted Heather Flower’s knee as she sat on the end of the bed by Mosh. He looked up, and she scratched his ear. “Not you, dear Mosh.” He put his head back down, this time on Heather Flower’s feet.

  “We were just talking about her trip to Montauk and how glad we are she’s back here in Southold.”

  Mary nodded. “We are. We shall take good care of you, Heather Flower.”

  Heather Flower gazed at the window for a moment, then turned her eyes to her friends. “I was able to visit with Keme’s mother. It meant much to see my warrior husband’s mother again. We talked much of his memory. I watched his younger brother, who is such a good son, like Keme was.”

  Mary leaned toward her and let her hand rest on Heather Flower’s. “I’m sure it was good for her to see you. Did you give her the wampum belt?”

  “No. It is with the medicine man. He will tell the stories and keep the history alive. It is his duty.”

  “You will too, Heather Flower. You must get well first, though. Patience and I will go make some broth for you. You rest, dear.” Mary stood up and handed Patience the cloth from Heather Flower’s forehead before testing her temperature with her fingers.

  Patience dipped the cloth back into the water and wrung it out. She patted it across Heather Flower’s brow. “I shall bring fresh water, too. You rest now.”

  Before they left, Mary turned to their friend. “Lizzie wants so much to come see you, but she cannot. She’s never had the pox, and the doctor has sequestered your house from anyone who has not had the disease. ’Tis the only way to protect Southold from an epidemic. She’s at my house in tears, poor thing.”

  Heather Flower’s black eyes grew wide. “She must stay well, she must stay away.”

  “She will. I just wanted you to know she wants to be here too. She is very sad to know you are so sick. But she will be cheered when I tell her how much better you are tonight.” Mary smiled, and Patience followed her down the stairs.

  “I have a joint of beef in the cellar, Mary. Let’s have Dirk bring it up and get us fresh water. I shall boil it and make a quick broth.”

  They looked in on Dirk and found him asleep in a chair in the parlor. He looked so haggard and worn out.

  Mary touched Patience’s arm and held a finger to her lips. “Let’s go to the cellar ourselves and let him sleep. We can manage.” Her voice was a whisper, and the two tiptoed out to the cellar door, without their cloaks. They reached the cold room and shivered.

  “What were we thinking?” Patience picked up a cloth-wrapped package. “This is the beef.” She handed it to Mary. “I shall get the water.” Mary followed her to the well, and Patience hauled up a bucket filled with icy water. They lugged their burden to the warmth of the kitchen and set about making a simple broth.

  “Lizzie sent some yarrow with me and said to be sure to make her a tea with this, for the fever.” Mary put the sprigs of the dried herb in a mug and ladled boiling water over it to steep.

  Mosh wandered in, and Patience bent down. “You poor thing. You didn’t want to leave her either, did you? But you must need to go outside.” She took him to the back door. “’Tis cold out. You shan’t want to stay out long, Mosh.”

  When they had a rich broth, Mary ladled it into a large slipware bowl, and Patience put a bone aside to cool for Mosh. He hadn’t stayed out long and had hurried back to his mistress.

  They assembled a tray, and Mary carried it while Patience lugged the pail of cold water. Heather Flower was sound asleep, Mosh already at her side.

  They looked at each other as they set everything down. “Do we wake her, Mary? Or let her sleep? Doctor Smith said to watch out for the deep sleep.”

  “We should wake her and have her take some broth and tea.” Mary shook Heather Flower’s shoulder gently. “Wake up, sweet thing.”

  Heather Flower didn’t stir, and for a moment Patience sucked in her breath in fear that she was gone. But then her lashes fluttered, and Patience let out a sigh. “You are awake.”

  Their friend looked from one to the other. “Did I close my eyes? It seems you just walked out the door.”

  Mary brought the broth to her and sat on the bed. She dipped the spoon and offered her a small sip. Heather Flower smiled. “Mmm. That is good.” But she could not eat much and only took two sips of the tea that Patience brought to her.

  Heather Flower settled back on her pillow. “Dirk. Is he in the house still, or did the doctor make him leave?”

  Patience adjusted the pillow for her. “He’s still here, Heather Flower. He won’t leave, and because he might already have the disease, D
octor Smith felt it best he stay here, though not in the same room as you. He’s asleep downstairs.”

  “I miss him.”

  Mary set down the bowl. “I know he is missing you.” Her hazel eyes held a teary blue tint as she looked at Patience. “I’m going to get a chair from your room so we don’t have to use her bed to sit.” Patience saw her face crumble as she swept out of the room. Mary needed a cry out of Heather Flower’s sight.

  Patience kept her back to Heather Flower as she willed herself to contain her own tears. “We won’t leave you, Heather Flower, and we shall keep Dirk informed of your progress. Now, let’s work on getting you well. Would you take another sip of tea for me?”

  She nodded, and Patience held the cup for her.

  The three settled in for the evening, reminiscing and dozing off and on. By midnight, they slept soundly, only waking at daybreak. When Patience opened her eyes, she could see Heather Flower was staring at the window, and she said a prayer of thanksgiving that her friend was all right for another day. She prayed that today would bring more healing and strength.

  She moved her stiff legs and arms, and Heather Flower turned to her, her usual fiery eyes were dull. “You poor things, sitting all night as you sleep. You should have gone to your beds.”

  Mary sat up straight, rubbing her arms. “We wanted to be near in case you needed something.”

  “We won’t leave you until you are able to be up. How do you feel?” Patience stood up and took the dried-out cloth from Heather Flower’s forehead. She noticed the flat, red splotches right away and turned to Mary.

  Mary jumped up. “Heather Flower, you are beginning to break out in a rash.”

  Patience moistened the cloth and gently stroked her friend’s face and arms with it. “You feel very hot too. Doctor Smith said the red spots will blister after a day or two. That shall be the worst part of it, and you must take broth and tea to get you through this. I hope you will try. You have Dirk and Lizzie waiting for you.” She smiled and hoped her words encouraged her.