Chapter Twenty-Three
The days and nights blurred together as Greta, Catrina, and Frena nursed Jacob back to health. Greta warned Ruth to keep the twins away from the fever and the old woman watched over them until their foster mother could return. Catrina continued to coax Greta away from Jacob’s bedside. But her manner changed. She tried to imitate Greta’s gentle bedside demeanor and soft singing. Jacob did not respond to Catrina’s voice or touch. He remained locked in his own fevered world.
Greta steeped the last of the yarrow and watched Catrina fumble with the cold compress. Greta’s fingers ached to smooth Jacob’s brow. She needed to feel his quiet strength and hear the soft whisper of his breath.
“I cannot do this anymore.” Catrina dropped the rag into the bowl of water and stood up. “I give up. I may as well not even be here. He does not know any better.” She shook her head. “It does not do any good to sit here.”
Greta darted to the bench. “Then I will take a turn.”
Catrina shrugged and wandered to the hearth. She dropped onto the three-legged stool and stared into the fire. “He will not notice if you are here or not.”
Greta smiled. “I know that it does good to be here. Whether he remembers or not, I know that he can feel my presence beside him.”
Catrina frowned and looked back at Greta. “Oh.” She studied Greta’s placid expression. “But how do you know that?”
“I just know.” Greta settled beside Jacob, dipped the cold compress in the bowl of water, and wrung it out. She returned the freshened cloth to his forehead and began to hum as she studied the rise and fall of his chest. She pressed her hand against his cheek and the coolness of his skin shocked her. “His fever has broken.” She let out a long, hard sigh. “He is going to be all right.”
Catrina bolted up from the three-legged stool.
Jacob’s eyelids fluttered open. “Greta?”
“Yes.” She placed her hand on his. “I am here.” He struggled to sit up. “Shhh. Do not try and get up. You need to rest.”
“I have been sick, haven’t I?”
“Ja. Very sick. For three days now.”
“And you have been here, by my side the whole time.” He smiled weakly. “I remember hearing you sing. That is all that I can remember. Feeling so cold and confused and then hearing you sing. I thought that you were an angel.”
Greta looked down and shook her head. “It was only me, Jacob.” He reached up and touched her face, as if he did not believe that she was real. Their eyes met and locked on one another. Greta felt time stand still. Nothing existed but the intensity of his dark brown eyes.
Until Catrina flounced across the room. “Jacob! I was here too. Don’t you remember?” She giggled and batted her eyelashes. “Of course you do!”
Jacob furrowed his brow. He looked over to Catrina and nodded politely. “Ja. Of course.” His eyes moved back to Greta.
“We were so worried about you!” Catrina leaned forward to check his fever in a showy gesture. Greta sighed and stood up. “I will get you some stew. I am sure that you are hungry.” Jacob watched Greta walk to the cauldron and felt startled by her beauty. Was she always this graceful and self-assured? He pulled his eyes away from Greta as Catrina adjusted his pillows. Jacob stared at the woman’s perfect features, but his heart did not jump. His pulse did not quicken. He did not feel the joyful appreciation that filled him when he sensed the warmth that glowed from beneath Greta’s Plain attire.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember you being here.”
Catrina looked hurt. “I was. I made the stew. And I sat right here. For a long time.”
“You were here alongside Greta?”
Catrina shrugged. “Ja. I was here more than she was, truth be told. She left a lot. She spent an entire day looking for weeds. And digging around outside.”
“Weeds?”
Catrina shrugged again. “Yarrow.”
Jacob cut his eyes back to Greta. He watched her ladle a bowlful of stew and pour fresh water into his pewter cup. “Yarrow is not easy to find this time of year. That took some work.”
Catrina nodded. “Ja. Greta came back muddy as a piglet.” She giggled into her hand, but Jacob’s stern look cut her laughter short. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I sat here with you. Do you not remember?”
“No. All I remember is hearing songs from the Ausbund. And the smell of vinegar. I do remember that.”
Catrina wrinkled her nose. “Oh, that was Greta. She wrapped your feet in vinegar. She said something about drawing the fever down.” She shook her head. “I hate the smell of vinegar, don’t you?”
“Vinegar is good medicine. So is yarrow.” He turned his head toward Greta. “You are very handy, Greta.”
Greta blushed and carried the bowl of stew to his bedside. “It was nothing.”
“You are wrong about that. I have you to thank for my recovery.”
Greta shook her head. “No. I just did what anyone would do.”
Jacob smiled. “It sounds as if you have worked very hard these three days.”
Greta blushed again. “Catrina’s grandmother stayed here as well. She just left to take care of some chores at her own cabin. She will be back soon.”
Catrina’s brow crinkled. “I was here too, you know.”
“Ja.” But Jacob kept his eyes on Greta as he answered Catrina.
“I . . . I . . .” Catrina stumbled over her words while she tried to think of what she had done for Jacob during his illness. “I helped make the stew. And I sat here. Jacob, are you listening to me? I just said that I sat here, on this bench.”
Jacob moved his eyes to Catrina and studied her pouty expression. She knows how to sit. That I have noticed. Catrina raised her chin and grabbed the bowl of stew from Greta’s hands. “Thank you, dear. I will help him with this. After all, I did make it.” Greta clenched her jaw. She knew that Catrina had only chopped a couple of carrots and watched her grandmother do the rest.
“I don’t need any help.” Jacob grimaced and shook his head. “Just hand me the bowl.” Greta tried to help him up, but Catrina took over that job too. Greta stepped back and counted to ten. She knew that she would lose her temper if she stayed in the same room with Catrina Witmer for one more second.
* * *
Greta slipped out of the cabin and into the sunlight. She breathed in the brisk air and rolled up her sleeves. I best fetch more water and carry in wood before nightfall. She tried not to think of the beautiful young woman inside the cabin with Jacob. She acts as if she nursed him through the sickness all by herself. Greta sighed. Well, I did not do it for thanks.
Greta thought about the way Jacob’s eyes locked on hers when he awoke. Her heart quickened at the memory and a soft smile formed on her lips. He felt what I felt, I am sure of it. He does remember. The memory stayed with her as she kneeled in the damp earth by the river and plunged the bucket into the sparkling water. As she picked her way back through the muddy field, she wondered what Catrina thought of Jacob’s reaction. I don’t think she knows how to take it. I am sure that she has always been favored over other women. I need to be thoughtful of her feelings. If Jacob really did feel a connection with me, Catrina is bound to be hurt.
When she reached the cabin, the shutters were closed against the chill and she imagined the warm glow of firelight that flickered behind the wooden slats. I cannot stay away any longer. I have to find a way to sit with Jacob without creating conflict with Catrina. But, I cannot just give up on Jacob! Especially now that he has given me hope. Greta took a deep breath and opened the rough oak door.
Jacob’s expression softened when he saw Greta in the threshold, her silhouette backlit by the setting sun. The golden rays bathed her in light like a Renaissance painting. He drank in her red cheeks, sparkling green eyes, and gentle smile. “Greta.” His voice sounded hoarse and tired, but Greta thought she could sense the eagerness in his tone as he spoke her name.
“Jacob.”
Catrina’s face fell as Greta strode to Jacob’s bedside. “Oh, Greta! Look at you. Really, dear. You must change into a clean apron. What on earth have you been doing?”
Greta looked down and noticed the mud stains on her skirts and the wood chips clinging to her bodice. She felt incompetent and unattractive beside Catrina’s neat and careful appearance. Greta wanted to turn and run, but stood her ground and waited for Jacob’s reaction as she tucked her curls back under her prayer kappe.
A tired half smile formed on his lips. “So tell me, what have you been up to out there?”
“I harvested your kitchen garden, carried the split logs you left by the woodpile out back and stacked them by the door, and fetched enough water to see you through the night, should the fever return.”
“Did you really?”
Greta shrugged. “It needed to be done.”
Jacob’s smile widened. Catrina watched with surprise as he reached up and wiped a smudge of dirt from Greta’s cheek.
“You found yarrow, brought down my fever, and did my chores. And, I haven’t forgotten that you saved my hen last week.” He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. The grin stayed on his face.
Catrina’s expression of surprise turned to one of hurt. “I do not understand this. You only have eyes for her?” She stood up and shook her head. “This is not fair.” Her lip trembled and she grabbed the rough log wall to steady herself. “I feel sick.”
“Catrina.” Jacob kept his voice low and even. “Catrina. That is enough.”
“No. I feel sick.” She stumbled away from the bedstead and collapsed onto the dirt floor. Greta gasped and rushed to her side. She felt Catrina’s forehead and shook her head. “She is burning up, Jacob. She is sick.”
Jacob pushed the quilt aside and tried to get up.
Greta put up a hand. “Don’t you dare get out of that bed, Jacob Miller. You must rest.” Greta bit her lip and felt Catrina’s forehead again. “Is your horse still lame?”
“She is doing all right. As long as you don’t push her too hard.”
Greta nodded. “I am going to take Catrina home. Her grandparents can look after her.”
“Can you manage?”
“Certainly.”
Jacob smiled. “Ja. I can see that. I think that you could manage just about anything.”
Greta laughed. “That is a far cry from your first impression of me, Jacob.”
Jacob looked embarrassed and then returned her smile. “My first impression of you was wrong, Greta. Very, very wrong.”
* * *
Greta helped Catrina through the threshold of the Witmer cabin. “You will be fine. Your grandmother will—” Greta stopped in midsentence. “Oh no.” Frena Witmer crouched beside a low bedstead built into the wall of the cabin. Her husband twitched and mumbled as he lay huddled beneath a quilt. Frena felt the man’s wrinkled forehead and looked up at the young woman with glassy eyes and a pale face.
Greta sighed. “I should have checked on you when you did not come back today.”
The elderly woman shook her head. “You had your hands full with Jacob.” She studied Catrina’s ashen face. “My granddaughter has taken ill?”
“Ja.” Greta guided Catrina to her pallet on the floor. “I am sorry.”
“And Jacob?”
“Out of danger.”
“Praise be.”
Greta nodded, unrolled Catrina’s bedding, and tucked the young woman beneath a colorful quilt. “You must rest, Frena. I will stay here to help. You go on and lie down.”
Frena managed a weak smile. “Danke. But what about your own household? Are they still well?”
Greta nodded. “Ja. And Ruth will care for the twins until I return.”
“You should all be fine as long as you stay out of the night air.”
“Perhaps.”
“Do promise me that you will not walk home after dark, when the vapors are about. You must stay here. The sun is setting.” She shook her head. “Do not go back out.”
“Do not worry, Frena. I will stay here and take care of you all.”
The elderly woman broke into a coughing fit. She pointed a bony finger at the window and cleared her throat. “Latch the shutters. I took the oilcloth out last week during the warm spell and the night air can get in now.”
Greta nodded and walked to the window. The tree line stood like a row of soldiers at the edge of the clearing. Beyond that, the sky bruised a deep purple as evening faded into night. Greta sighed as she closed the shutters against the shadows. She thought of Jacob, alone in the dark interior of his cabin, waiting for her to return. Keep him well until I can get back to him, Lord. There are others who need me now. Greta turned toward the sick family and took a deep breath. Help me to help them. And please help me to do my best for Catrina—no matter how much she exasperates me!
The hours crept by. Greta checked fevers, adjusted quilts, and offered sips of cool water. A storm rolled in and she arranged bowls across the dirt floor to catch the raindrops that leaked through the roof. Greta listened to the quiet ping of water hitting water until she dozed off by the hearth. She woke up cold, stoked the fire, and fell back asleep.
Catrina coughed and woke Greta up again. She rose from the fireside, felt the woman’s forehead, and then checked on Georg and Frena.
“Greta?”
“Ja.” She walked back to Catrina’s pallet.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making sure that you pull through this.”
“You are here to take care of me?”
Greta shrugged. “Your grandparents, too. But they are doing all right. You are the one who causes me concern.”
Catrina frowned. “I fear that I would not have done that for you.”
Greta shrugged again. “I know.”
Catrina’s frown deepened. “That must be what Jacob sees in you.”
“What?”
“Kindness.” Catrina shook her head. “I have been trying to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“His feelings for you.” Catrina broke into another coughing spell and Greta handed her a cup of water. Catrina took a few sips and handed it back. “I am getting the strangest idea that he prefers you.”
Greta did not respond.
“I am beautiful. I know I am.”
“Ja.” Greta sighed. “Everyone knows it.”
“But he seemed so impressed by you when he woke up from his fever.”
“Catrina, you have to see that there are more important qualities than a pretty face.”
Catrina frowned.
“If you do not understand then I cannot explain it to you.”
Catrina thought for a moment, then looked at Greta with a quizzical expression. “How did you know how to help Jacob when he was sick? I cannot figure out how it came so easily to you.”
Greta shrugged. “I just knew. When I am around him it feels as if I have always known him. Everything just comes naturally.”
“I should have known that you did not mean it when you said that you had no interest in him.” She looked away. “It is true, is it not? You do hope that he will court you.”
Greta looked down at her hands. She paused and wondered how to respond. “Ja. I do. I am sorry that I did not tell the truth earlier.”
Catrina’s face crumpled. She sank back into the quilt and turned her face away.
* * *
The next morning, Catrina took a turn for the worse. Greta soaked a compress in vinegar and shook her head. “I wish that I had yarrow.” She searched the Witmers’ cache of herbs, but found nothing that would help sweat out a fever. She had just given up when she heard a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Berta Riehl and Emma Knepp strode in. “We have heard that there is sickness in this house.”
“Ja.”
The elderly women waved Greta aside. “Get some rest before you fall ill yourself. We will take over for a while. Abraham and Amos can manage without us for the day.”
“Danke. But I think the best thing that I can do right now is to gather more yarrow. Catrina needs it. Jacob could use another dose too, I imagine.”
Berta nodded. “Yarrow would do Catrina a world of good.” She looked at the young woman and clucked her tongue. “She is not doing well.”
“No. Her grandparents have begun to recover, I think. But Catrina has not been so fortunate.”
“Ja.” Emma nodded. “Off you go then. And hurry back.”
Berta put a hand on Greta’s arm. “But do be careful. The rain was terrible last night. The creeks have flooded.”
Greta nodded and hurried out of the cabin, leaving the warm scent of woodsmoke behind her as she stepped into the brightness of a new day.