16

I have to stop thinking about Isaac.

Lark stirred the rabbit gravy on the stove for a hearty breakfast before haying. Early morning sunlight brightened the soddy window, birds outside raising a twittering chorus.

“Lark, what is the matter with you?” Lilac asked, a bit of a bite in her words as she pulled the tray of biscuits out of the oven.

She looked up to see a puzzled look on her sister’s face. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“I spoke, and you never answered. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Sorry, guess my mind was somewhere else.” She heaved a sigh and set down the wooden spoon. “What do you need?”

“I just wanted to tell you I heard from Forsythia yesterday that Sam Gubberud can write, read, and speak Norwegian. He mentioned it to Adam.”

Lark nodded. “How wonderful. So you’re going to ask him to translate the journal?”

“I think I’ll bring it with me the next time I go to town.” She paused and popped the hot biscuits into a basket with quick fingers. “He sure is a good man.”

“That he is. Hopefully he’s a good teacher too. School started yesterday, right?”

Nodding, a slight smile made Lilac appear dreamy in the soddy’s dimness. “I-I think I could come to care for him. Do you think it’s too soon after Ethan?”

Lark smiled to herself. Sounded to her like her little sister had already come to care for the man. “As you said about Ethan and Sylvia, when it’s right, it’s right. Wait and see.” Thank you, Lord, whispered through her mind, followed immediately by thoughts of Isaac off again taking care of his family. That was good, as it should be, but what about . . . ? She slapped plates on the table, cutting that thought off. “We better dish up. Jonah will be here soon.”

“I’ll wash up after breakfast.”

“Thanks, but can’t cut till the dew is off the grass anyway. Jonah greased the mower so all is ready.”

“I ran the trapline early before chores.” Another one of those things that had to be done daily before the meat went bad in the heat or some wild animal had a free breakfast.

Jonah showed up just as they sat down to breakfast on biscuits topped with rabbit gravy. He’d been sleeping at Del and RJ’s since they had more room.

“We set you a place.”

“I see that, but I ate at Del’s. Mmm, biscuits and gravy.”

“Surely you have room for one. After all, I made them specially for you.” Lark pointed to his place.

Jonah grinned and shrugged. “Can’t disappoint you, then.”

Lark handed him her plate and returned to the stove to dish up another, then sat down again with a smile at her brother.

“So the Webers’ today?” He spoke around a mouthful.

“Yes,” Lark said. “They’ll be almost the last, except for the Caldwells’. Good thing, our wheat’s looking near ready for harvest. And we need to be picking apples and gathering more flower seeds too.” She gathered the plates and set them in the steaming pan on the stove. “Let’s use our team first, and then I’ll bring them home.”

“I’m going to hoe corn this morning and work on drawings this afternoon,” Lilac said. “Del said there are still plenty of raspberries. Maybe I can find enough for raspberry shortcake for dessert this evening.”

Lark nodded. “How about frying that rabbit and picking lettuce for a salad for dinner? I’ve a hankering for greens. Any peas left? New potatoes?”

Lilac shook her head, along with an eye roll. “I’ll do what I can.”

When Jonah called that he was ready, Lark grabbed her wide-brimmed straw hat off the rack and clapped it on her head, tying the strings under her chin before she climbed into the seat to drive while Jonah settled in behind her.

Meadowlarks chorused from the wheat field, and swallows dipped into a mud patch by the road as they trotted to the Weber farm, where two other teams waited under a shade tree, tails swishing at the flies.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll drive our team the first few hours, and then Jonah will drive.”

“Our first cutting is already dry enough to turn, so the rest of us will be in that field,” Robert Weber said. “Wife will have dinner ready for noon, Miss Nielsen, if you want to stay.”

“Thanks, but Jonah will eat enough for both of us,” Lark said with a smile.

Jonah led out, searching the grass for snakes or big rocks, although each farmer was supposed to have removed the big rocks from his fields. Several big rock piles on the edges of the Webers’ fields attested they’d been more thorough than the Dwyers. When Jonah was about fifty yards ahead, he waved for Lark to start mowing. A flock of quail lifted in front of him. He paused, then waved her on. Her teams’ ears twitched, and one of them snorted, but they kept on with their steady pace. After the third round of the field, Robert waved her over to have a drink. Seeing the sweat dripping off those turning hay, Lark appreciated sitting on the mower even more.

“You want to switch?” Jonah asked as he mopped his forehead with a bandanna he pulled from a back pocket.

“Not really.” She grinned at him. After dismounting from the mower seat, she drank the dipper of water the Webers’ oldest son, Aaron, held out. “Thank you.”

“That mower is some invention.”

“That it is. Makes haying easier for all of us.”

“My pa said ’bout time someone invented a rake for the horses to pull.”

Lark nodded and climbed back on the mower, then waited for Jonah to walk out again before lowering the blade. When Robert waved her in to change teams, she didn’t argue. While she unhooked the traces, Jonah hooked the reins up on the rump, and Lark led her team to the shade. She turned to Robert. “You got a different horse on your team.”

He nodded. “He’s working well with old Belle here. My mare is heavy with foal, and I traded for this younger gelding. He’s settled in well.”

“You’re sure he’s safe?” Lark understood the practice of training younger horses by hitching them with an older but . . .

“He’s good and solid, Miss Larkspur, not seen him shy at nothing. But I’ll be keeping a close eye on him.”

Lark nodded.

Robert strode out, holding his stick and looking over his shoulder to signal Jonah, who hupped the team and lowered the blade. The younger horse’s ears twitched back and forth, but the team worked as one, the way it should. Nell nudged her and hung her head over Lark’s shoulder to be petted and scratched. Prince did the same.

“You two . . . If all the teams were as dependable as you.” The trade she’d made of her two oxen for this team after they moved here was indeed a wise choice.

As the horses and mower turned the second corner and started back, she decided to head over and help those raking the cut hay for a while.

Striding toward the other side of the field and humming one of her favorite hymns, she heard screams from behind her. She turned to see Robert’s team rearing and jerking the mower. Jonah! Where was Jonah? Throwing proper over her shoulder, she lifted her skirts and ran.

“Please, God, please, Father, Lord God,” Lark could only mutter as she pounded into the field, dashing between the other workers heading for the accident.

Robert Weber had gotten hold of his terrified team, but as she got closer, she could see Jonah flat out on his back on the ground. His right leg lay at an odd angle. She fell to her knees at her brother’s side. One of the others already knelt beside him.

“Jonah!” she called but no response.

“Someone go for Adam,” Robert yelled.

“What happened?” Lark scanned her brother. Jonah was unconscious but breathing. Blood soaked into the dirt and grass under his head, his shredded shirt soaking blood from his back. She ripped off her apron and clamped it under his head. “Jonah, can you hear me? Just blink if you can.” No response.

Robert tore off his shirt and handed it to her. “My wife is bringing some sheets so we can load him into a wagon. Can’t depend on finding Adam. We can get him to town faster.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. My gelding spooked at a rattlesnake. I thought for sure he was steady enough for this.”

Anthony Armstead drove his wagon up even with them.

Aaron Weber ran up with his arms loaded with bedding.

Lark sucked in a deep breath. “We need to see how bad his back is. If someone can brace his leg and someone else clamp that shirt over my apron to stop the bleeding, someone else help me roll him . . .”

“Let’s get a sheet under him at the same time. Two of you roll a sheet. Better we move him while he is unconscious.”

Lord God, help us kept galloping through Lark’s mind. Help us do what is best.

Robert’s wife, Rebecca, ran up with a bottle of whiskey. “Can he drink this to help the pain?”

Lark shook her head. “Still out.”

Between them all, they got the sheet under Jonah, and Lark saw that the skin on his back was all scraped up. Oh, Lord. She inhaled, feeling like a warm river flowed into her. She sucked in another breath. Lord, please keep him unconscious. The pain will be horrendous.

“Best thing we can do is get him to Adam.”

She nodded. “Would you cut up his pant leg and see if bone is sticking out?”

Someone else jumped to do that. “No, ma’am,” the man assured a moment later.

While several people helped with Jonah, others were padding the wagon. Four men picked up the corners of the sheet and two more got up in the wagon, then Lark climbed up, ready to cradle his head.

With Jonah lifted into place, they slammed and locked the wagon gate.

“Drive careful as you can.”

“I will. You ready, Miss Lark?” Anthony asked from the driver’s seat.

“Yes.” At least the bleeding had stopped as long as she kept pressure on the apron and shirt. “Hang on, dearest Jonah. You’re in God’s arms, and He is holding us all.” Tears blurred her vision. When the wagon hit a bump, she tried to take the jolt in her arms.

“Sorry!” called Anthony.

“I know.” She sniffed and wished she could dry her tears. But holding Jonah’s head was all she could do for him. They were just about to town when she heard a horse galloping up. Adam pulled up to ride alongside the wagon.

“We’re almost there. You have the bleeding under control?”

“I think so. There was no bleeding on his leg but looks to be broken too.”

“Has he regained consciousness at all?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“I’m going to round up help and set up for him.” He waved and galloped back to town.

By the time the wagon pulled up to Adam’s new office on Main Street, four more men were ready to help carry him in feet first so Lark could continue to hold his head.

“Okay, we are going to try to lay him on his side on the examining table so I can assess the damages. Sythia, roll a sheet to prop his head up. Lark, keep holding his neck straight as you can in case he’s broken a vertebra. Someone hold his leg, there, good.”

Lark continued her litany of prayers, including thanks for getting Jonah to Adam and medical care.

Adam probed the back of Jonah’s head. “Not feeling broken bones. We’ll suture that cut. Next, we’ll clean his back and see how bad that is. Broken leg will be last. At least it’s not a compound fracture.”

William and Jesse stopped at the doorway. “How can we help?” William asked.

“Can you bring me that cradle for his head that you’ve been working on so we can lay him on his stomach?”

“S-sure, we can do that.” Jesse eyed the width of Jonah’s shoulders, and the two headed for their shop.

Mr. Caldwell and his wife, Beatrice, came in next. “We told everyone to pray. How can we help?”

“Light all the lamps and set them around so we can see to clean him up. Someone get a stool for Lark. Her arms must be at their collapsing stage. You can prop your elbows on the table.”

“Thank you.” She leaned over and whispered in Jonah’s ear. “If you can hear me, know everyone is doing the best they can. We are praying you stay unconscious for a while yet.”

“Sythia, how about moving that lamp over here so I can see to the head injury. Lark, can you still hold his head?”

Lark nodded.

Adam cleaned the laceration, causing it to bleed again, the swelling growing. He rinsed the wound with iodine until he could no longer find bits of debris. “Head wounds bleed the worst of anything, but by God’s grace, no major arteries are involved.”

Forsythia held out a tray with sterilized needles, silk thread, and scissors. “You want me to cut the hair around that?”

“Please do. I’d prefer to shave it but cutting will do.”

Jessie and William brought in the headrest to attach to the table. They had padded the curved piece, and Jesse held it in place while William screwed the arms into the table frame. “There, that should hold it.”

“Good, now we will lift him forward to rest his forehead in that, and he can be on his stomach.” Adam grinned at the two young men. “You are geniuses. Had this ready just in time.”

“I saw one like this once at a hospital.” William smiled at Jesse. “Give us a need, and we’ll find a remedy if’n it can be made with wood. You know, we shoulda put this on your table when we made it for you to begin with.”

Together, they all lifted the sheet Jonah was still lying on, and with Lark holding his head and the young men dealing with his leg, they settled him on his belly, forehead cushioned on the cradle.

“Lark, go sit in that chair before you collapse,” Sythia ordered. “Jesse, help her over there, please.”

“I-I’m fine.” Lark blinked, but when she tried to stand, Jesse grabbed her just in time and half carried her to the chair.

“Put your head down between your knees,” Sythia said. “We don’t need another patient.”

Once Jonah’s head was taken care of, Forsythia and Adam started on his back, both of them wiping the perspiration from their faces. Between the people inside the room and the lighted lamps, the late afternoon breeze hadn’t much chance of cooling things off.

“I need to get home to do the chores.” Lark blew out a breath.

“RJ is taking care of that, and someone took your team home and let them out to pasture.” Beatrice laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Lilac is at our house taking care of the little ones,” Sythia picked up before Lark could ask. “I have a feeling plenty of food has already been brought to our house. That’s the way this town works.”

Adam sluiced Jonah’s lacerated back with alcohol again and again. “Far as I can tell we got it all, but tiny grains of dirt can hide most anywhere.”

Lilac set a tray of swizzle-filled glasses on one of the tables. “Adam, have a drink.”

“Ah, thank you.” Adam took the glass and downed it halfway without pausing to breathe. With the back finally bandaged, he moved to Jonah’s leg, cutting off the entire pantleg, shaking his head at the swelling. He gently probed with his fingertips.

Silence seeped into the room as some people left and those remaining seemed to hold their breath. Lark and Forsythia held hands, lips moving in silent prayer. A fly buzzed around Adam’s head. The laughter of children playing outside in the street made Lark smile despite the circumstances. While Lark kept her gaze on Adam’s hands, she leaned against her sister’s side. Please, Lord, her litany of the day broke into her awareness again.

Adam heaved a sigh and looked around at those gathered. “We are going to snap those bones back into place, near as we can, and pray God makes it heal right.”

“Are you saying Jonah might not walk again?” Lark asked.

“Might have to use a crutch or cane. If we get through all this without infection or him losing the use of his leg, my prayers will be answered.”

“Then the rest of us have our jobs cut out for him—to pray both singly and together,” Lark whispered.

“You are so right. Doctors can do amazing things these days, but ultimately it is God who does the healing.” He looked to his wife and her older sister. “We will have someone with him round the clock, and this first night it will be neither of you. Thank the Lord we just got these hospital rooms finished. Our first prayer is that he regains consciousness—though hopefully not till we get this leg set. So now, Jesse.”

The two men took hold of Jonah’s leg, one at the foot, one at the knee, and on three, they pulled steadily.

A grating sound made Lark close her eyes and grit her teeth. She and Sythia clung to each other’s hands. A slight click filled the room. And everyone released a held breath.

“Thank you, Lord.” Adam sighed too. “Now I’ll cast him.”

Lark blinked hard as she watched her brother’s still form. How could she ever go home and sleep this night?