“I need to stop by Mrs. Willis’s house. Just to drop off some tea. I hear she is having quite the ordeal.”
They stopped in front of a plain wooden house with a single step going up to the door. There wasn’t even a porch, just that single wooden board. Heather knocked on the door and then stepped back.
“Mrs. Barnes, please come in.” Mr. Willis held the door open.
“I can only stay a minute. I just stopped by to see how Mrs. Willis is doing.”
“She’s just staring out the window waiting for Trudy to get home.” His eyes flickered for a moment. “Have you seen her?”
Heather shook her head. “No. She had already left the school when I arrived there.”
“Is that where you stayed?”
Heather nodded. “I wanted to see your wife.” She moved further into the room and spied the woman sitting in a chair. “Mrs. Willis?”
Mrs. Willis turned her head slightly and Heather could see the woman’s eyes were glazed over. Mrs. Willis blinked twice and turned back to the window.
“Well, let me leave you with this,” Heather said, pulling a small linen sack from her medical bag. “It should make her sleepy. Just brew it for five minutes and then strain. Have her drink a cup three times a day until she is feeling better.”
Mr. Willis took the bag. “Thank you, Mrs. Barnes.”
“I’ll see myself out. Have someone get me if there is an emergency, otherwise I’ll check back in a few days.”
Mr. Willis stood at the door as Heather joined Millie and Cecily at the corner. They walked down Grand Platte Road towards the section of town where five roads met. Heather’s house was just a ten-minute walk from there. Cecily’s mother lived at that corner, across from the Park.
As they got closer, Millie tapped Heather’s arm. “What do you make of those?” she asked, pointing to black lumps rising from the snow.
Heather opened her eyes wide as she realized just what the large black shapes were in the middle of the field. “Those are cattle. Looks like they tried to huddle together for warmth.”
Millie raised her fingers to her lips. “I can’t believe they froze like that.”
“There’s my house,” Cecily said, releasing Heather’s hand and running towards a house on the corner. She jumped the steps and tried to open the door. When it wouldn’t budge, Cecily kicked the door with her foot. “Ma!” she cried.
Millie joined her on the porch and rapped on the door with her knuckles. “Mrs. Pool. It’s Mrs. Reed. Are you in there?” When they didn’t get a response, Millie stepped off the porch. “No one’s home.”
“Where’s my ma?” Cecily asked.
“I’m not sure, honey. Why don’t you come home with me until we can find her?”
“Millie, you need to rest. Cecily, would you like to stay with me for a few days?”
“I want my ma.”
“I know, love.” Millie tried to comfort the child. “But it will just be until we can find her.”
Heather held out her hand. “Let’s go.” Cecily took Heather’s hand and reluctantly followed her down the square.
They rounded the corner and came to the backside of the park. Heather was watching her footsteps when she heard Millie gasp. Heather turned her eyes to look at the grassy knoll of the park. Scattered among the melting piles of snow were several bodies. Heather quickly turned Cecily’s eyes away as she realized that one of the bodies was that of Mrs. Pool and next to her lay Trudy Willis staring at the blue sky above.
Chapter Eight
Heather tried to put the images from earlier that day out of her mind. There must have been at least a dozen people in the park. Most were the parents of Millie’s students.
They must have been on their way to pick up their children from school and ended up turned around in the white-out. So much loss.
“Would you like more tea, Beatrice?” Heather offered, holding out a teapot that came all the way from England. Her porcelain tea pot and cups were one of the indulgences Heather had brought from home. She always thought tea tasted better in a porcelain cup. A tin cup for coffee was perfectly fine, but not for tea.
Several women from town were sitting in Heather’s sitting room deciding what to do next. Millie hadn’t gone home yet and was sitting closest to the door. When they were walking, several women joined their small party, and all descended on Heather’s house for tea and conversation.
“I shouldn’t,” Beatrice said, holding her hand up. “My brother will be by shortly to escort me home.”
No sooner had Heather refilled her own cup and placed the pot back on the tray when Pastor Collins knocked on the door. Millie went to the door, opening it for the clergyman.
“What a terrible tragedy has befallen us this week,” he said, strolling into the sitting room.
“Absolutely terrible,” Millie agreed. The rest of the women murmured their agreement.
“I am so glad to see you women together. It makes my job easier instead of having to talk to you each individually.”
“What are you thinking, Pastor Collins?” Millie asked. Heather wanted to roll her eyes. Millie had just given Pastor Collins the perfect opening for a sermon in Heather’s sitting room.
“This is but a warning.”
“A warning?” Heather asked.
“I believe that this was a message from God.” Heather saw the pastor stand straighter. “It is but a warning that we need to put aside our sinful nature and repent. He took away those that did not call upon His name. They deserved what was their due. Hopefully, it serves as a warning for others.”
Heather nearly choked on her tea.
“Barnaby,” Beatrice said, mortified at her brother’s accusations.
“Fret
