Jonah's Bride

Listening to his brother's boots striking angrily on the wood floor, Jonah turned to study Tessa's basket. 'This is the bird dropping tea.'

' 'Tis not made of bird droppings.' Anya grabbed the crock and checked on its contents. 'Twas nearly empty. 'But of bark and leaves.'

'And this is the other tea that clears congestion.'

'Aye, but it does naught for fever.'

Jonah pushed aside that crock to reach more. One held bark for headaches, according to Anya, and another dried berries which helped with fever, but not one as severe as Tessa's.

'This is what she used on Mercy Hollingsworth, whose fever was the most severe.' Anya hesitantly touched the lid of a small crock. 'I wasn't in the kitchen when she crushed the root, and I remember she said 'tis lethal, even in small quantities, but the right amount can help break a fever.'

'Then there is hope?'

'Aye, I've not been sure what to do all night.' The young girl's face crumpled with torment. 'I cannot sit here and let the woman who gave me a good home die. And yet, how could I live with myself if I gave her the wrong dose?'

'Crush some of the powder. She's too far gone with fever. I have seen it on the battlefield. She is living her nightmares and soon she will be gone to us.'

'Aye. I've seen it too.' Anya bowed her head. 'You will administer the powder? I'm no coward, and yet, I cannot hurt my mistress. I could never-'

Jonah's throat ached. 'I will administer the powder.'

Tears rolled down Anya's face as she dropped a small black root into a shallow bowl.

He helped his brother bring down a bed, Ely and Charity's, judging by the look of it. And in no time assembled it in front of the fire, laid the sheets and eased Tessa's fitful body upon it.

She was fighting the fever, this he knew. He sat on the edge of the feather mattress, taking both of her hands in his. Her head thrashed from side to side, and her ebony curls were plastered with sweat. Her legs kicked and her body twisted. She suffered, and he hated it.

He released her hands with a kiss to her knuckles and wrung die cool herbed water from a cloth soaking in a nearby pail. He folded it into thirds and laid the compress on her forehead, another on her throat, and so on, until her body was swathed in white and he started the process over again.

Thomas ran to the well for more cold water, and Anya mixed the herbs for them. They ran out of cloths, and the reverend raced next door to borrow what he could from the Sandersons.

A knock rattled the door. Jonah soaked more cloths in the fresh water while Thomas answered it. Susan Hollingsworth stood in the threshold with a basket on her arm.

'I brought food and more clean linens.' The woman seemed hesitant. 'I don't want to interrupt, but I heard Tessa was ill. She saved my girls' lives many times over the years and now is the first chance I've had to pay back some of her kindness.'

' 'Tis appreciated,' Jonah managed.

'I will put on some of my soup to warm.' Susan set the basket down on a low table and rifled through it. 'This is for Tessa. My girls made it for her. As a thank you.'

Jonah took the small rag doll, made with inexperienced stitches, but all the more dear with thanks. He sat it on the headboard above Tessa. The doll with uneven black yarn hair smiled crookedly down at her.

'Jo-nah,' she whispered brokenly in her sleep.

She was not awake; she didn't know he was at her side. He lifted the cloth from her brow and replaced it with a fresh one.

'Jo-nah, Jonah, nooooo.' So heartbroken that sound, so lost and desolate.

He laid a hand to her cheek, and his heart hurt like sunshine cracking hard layers of ice, like spring come to the land.

'I have the blackbale powder.' Anya gazed down at the bed, at Tessa who stared up at them in delirium, not seeing them, not seeing anything. 'Susan, do you remember how much of this Tessa gave to Mercy?'

'Nay, I was too distraught to notice, I'm ashamed to say.' Susan knelt at the bedside, her hands clenched.

Thomas stood behind her, his face shadowed. The reverend crowded close, opening his well-worn Bible.

Jonah pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek and dropped a pinch of the ground powder on the center of her tongue.

Now, they waited. He set the little bowl aside and took Tessa's hands, determined to hold her, to stand beside her until the very end.

Chapter Sixteen

Tessa opened her eyes. Sunshine, warm and merry, slashed through the generous window of the room. She recognized the diamond paned windows and the chest of drawers and her mother's trunk leaned against the wall.

'So, you're finally awake.'

She recognized that voice too, rum rich and rumbling like tempered thunder. She turned her head on the pillow and saw him seated in a chair at her side. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and lines crinkled around the bold cut of his mouth. He looked like a man who hadn't slept in many nights.

'Why am I here? I don't live here anymore. I don't understand.' Her chest felt tight and her whole body felt achy. 'I want to go home.'

'You are home, now and forever.' Warm strong fingers encircled hers, holding her in a grip that felt possessive and claiming, the way a man holds a wife he loves. 'I brought you here as soon as the fever broke. I couldn't stand seeing you in Bradford's house, not when you have a place where you're loved and cherished.'

'Jonah, nay, I-'

' 'Tis the truth. I love you.' A slow curve of his mouth drew her gaze, but it was the true emotion in his eyes that surprised her, emotion bright as a thousand suns and twice as everlasting.

Hope grew within, sweet and new.

'I cannot live without you. I know that now.' His kiss brushed her knuckles. 'I will never be anything without you. Because you married me, and opened wide my heart.'

'But you never loved me. You never loved-' Tears burned, and she turned her head away. She was not strong enough for this. She was thirsty and nauseous and tremblingly weak from the fever. Even the sun hurt her eyes.

'You are wrong, Tessa. I loved you all along. Why else would I have given my life over to you? And maybe, just maybe, I thought of that ridiculous way to choose a wife because deep down inside I knew it was you who would offer. You were the one I wanted.'

'Jonah.' How could this be true? And yet throughout their marriage he had cared for her. He'd made sure she had rest and meals. He'd found a servant so she would not have to work hard, and bought her clothes, and even took her to the seamstress.

And most of all, he'd taken care of her when she was ill. He'd stayed by her side, just as he'd done for his father.

No one had ever cared for her that much.

'I had the same dream over and over when I was sick.' She dared to look at him, the love she felt for him growing stronger once again.

'You called my name when you were feverish.' He shifted on the chair, drawing closer so that she could see his capable shoulders and rock-hard chest and the handsome way his slow smile changed his face.

'Aye. I dreamed we were in the forest together and you told me you no longer wanted me. 'Twas horrible, and you left me, running away into the mists, and I couldn't find you.'

'An impossible nightmare. How could I leave you?' He pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. 'You have my heart. Every last bit of it. For now and forever.'