She glanced up. His eyes looked like troubled pools, flooded but contained.
“Of course she will. We won’t let it be any other way.”
Chapter Thirteen
The teapot whistling on the stove woke Emma from a brief doze at the kitchen table. She lifted her head and gazed out the window. Dawn would be more than an hour away, judging by the deep hue of the sky.
She arched her back to ease the crick that had settled in it from her awkward nap in the chair.
All through the long night it had seemed that she’d done nothing but make tea in hopes that Lucy would swallow a gulp or two. According to the doctor, not getting enough to drink was the main threat to her weakening body. Her survival depended upon keeping her hydrated.
The doctor had done what he could, applying cold compresses to Lucy’s stomach to keep the vomiting down and whispering words of encouragement to his tiny patient.
He’d shown Emma how to wrap Lucy in warm wet sheets and then rub her with cold towels. But the main thing was to get her to drink and keep it down.
Peppermint had always relieved the little ones she’d tended, so that’s what she had been brewing all night long. The house smelled like the candy counter at Rath and Wright’s.
She stood up and walked to the stove. Her legs felt cramped from the short nap at the table. What wouldn’t she give to fill her copper tub with hot water and melt into it? That’s just what she would do at the first sign of Lucy’s recovery.
The kitchen door opened. Cold predawn air rushed in with Cousin Billy.
“Morning, Billy. I haven’t got the coffee brewed yet, but it will only take a few minutes.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I just wanted to see how Lucy’s doing before I check the fences.”
“No change. Matt’s in the bedroom with her. Dr. Brown is resting in my room. The poor man hasn’t had a break since you brought him here.”
“I’ll check back in a few hours.”
Billy tugged on the brim of his hat. He closed the door and stepped onto the porch. Emma set down the teapot and rushed outside after him.
“Billy, wait.” She closed the back door but still spoke only half a note above a whisper. “Did you see Hawker in town? Did anybody say anything about…well, you know?”
“I took a peek at him.” Billy squeezed her elbow with his leather glove. “No need to worry, Emma. He’s nothing more than any other mortal man.”
“I saw him catch his hat right out of the air. He’s fast with his hands. What if he comes out here? Matt’s so tired and worn through he wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Matt would have caught his hat before it ever let fly off his head. If you’re worried about Hawker coming here, don’t be. My cousin protects what is his own.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
A rooster crowed in the barn. In another hour the sun would pop over the horizon. Billy let go of her elbow and started down the steps as though the bird had been his signal to get to work.
“Emma.” Billy turned at the bottom step, looking up. “I apologize for Woody.”
“For Woody? Why on earth would you?”
“It was me that set you up to pair with him.” Billy picked at a splinter in the handrail of the steps. “Any fool can see that it was you and Matt all along.”
“Maybe you were right about me needing a man.” Emma came down the steps, stopping on the last one so that she was eye to eye with Billy. She kissed his cheek. “You only misjudged the one I needed.”
“I’m glad of that, cousin.” He grinned, then strode toward the barn.
Matt was a lucky man to have a cousin as devoted as Billy. They had grown up as close as brothers. She’d never spent much thought or regret on her past, but watching Matt’s family over the summer made her wonder. What might it have been like to grow up with someone of her own?
Mercy, but this was no time for fanciful yearnings. She had tea to force down a resisting child’s throat. She’d think about those things later, when Lucy was well and she had an hour to soak in her big brass tub.
* * *
It felt like a betrayal to leave Lucy’s sickroom. The only reason Matt did it was that Emma had forced a cup of coffee into his hand and told him