A small crowd had gathered by the river. Heather couldn’t see anything.
“What’s going on?” Heather asked, stepping on her tiptoes as she tried to look over the crowd.
“The ferry is moving over,” someone responded.
“Can you see how many people are on it?” a different voice called.
“It’s still too far out,” a man responded.
The ferry moved closer. “Is that a man?”
Heather scurried to the livery and ran through the stalls, emerging on the other side. She climbed through the livery window, which put her right along with the docking station. Now she could see.
Whomever it was on the ferry was covered in fur. She couldn’t make out any features.
It was a man. Heather heard the masculine voice yell “Help!” as the man continued to pull on the rope leading the ferry across. There were two men along the shore pulling on the rope, but more men and even a few women ran over to help speed the ferry’s movements.
Time moved slowly as Heather watched the ferry finally line up with the dock. Several men rushed forward to bring the pile of fur onto the shore. With a groan, the man lifted his arms and flung off the heavy furs that were covering him.
Heather gasped. The man was covered in blood from head to toe. His hair was matted against his head and his clothes gave off such a stench that Heather wanted to retch. The man looked around at the crowd. Heather saw fear on most of the faces. Who was this man?
“It’s me,” he cried. Heather instantly recognized the voice.
“It’s Otis,” a voice yelled from the back.
Sherriff Applebee pushed through the crowd surrounding the man. “Where are the others?” he demanded.
Otis fell to his knees and started sobbing. “T’ain’t no others.”
“What do you mean?” Otis didn’t respond. Sheriff Applebee picked the man up by his collar. “What. Do. You. Mean.”
Otis blubbered a bit longer. “We had just finished hunting. I was in the wagon when the snow started. I grabbed the furs and hid under the wagon. I piled myself with furs, hoping I’d keep warm. When I finally was able to dig myself out, I couldn’t see anyone. The snow was so deep.”
“Where is everyone else?”
“Dead. They are all dead. No one survived.”
The sheriff dropped Otis to the ground. Otis continued to talk, but Heather couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her screams.
Chapter Nine
The sound of screaming woke Heather from a sound sleep. She leaned up on her elbows listening to the sound coming from the dark. It sounded like the wind. She looked over at Cecily sleeping under the quilt. Her small blonde head peeked from beneath the covers and she held Miss Poppet close to her chest.
Heather gave a little smile. Cecily had been staying with her for close to two weeks now.
The first night, Cecily was scared to be alone. Heather tucked the child into the spare room but woke to find the little girl sound asleep in her bed. After three mornings of waking up to Cecily in her bed, Heather gave up and just let the girl sleep on Jackson’s side of the bed.
Lifting the covers, Heather slid her feet to the cold floor. She turned the wick up on the oil lamp, letting the glow from the lamp fill the room. Finding her house shoes, she slid her feet into them and stood. Giving a glance over her shoulder to make sure Cecily was still asleep, she moved to the main room and pulled the bedroom door closed behind her.
She couldn’t sleep. Placing the lamp on the table she rubbed her arms trying to get warm.
Might as well stay awake, she thought.
She stoked the fire. The coffee pot was empty, so she moved to the front door. The pump was at the bottom step. Heather opened the door and the wind whipped through the room, stealing her breath. Her nightshirt wrapped around her legs, exposing her ankles to the frigid wind.
Heather quickly danced back into the house and closed the door. It appeared coffee was not going to keep her company tonight. She went to the milk bucket and filled her tin cup with milk instead. Since all her cows froze in the field, she had resorted to milking her goats. The milk wasn’t as rich as cow’s milk, but after a few sips, Heather acclimated to the taste.
Taking her cup back to the table she sat down and put her hands together.
It had been three days since Otis appeared on the ferry and Heather found out her husband wasn’t coming home. Two days since Sheriff Applebee took several men and two wagons to bring everyone home. Heather wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Dear Lord,” she prayed. “Please let the men return home soon.” When she was done praying, she reached for her leather Bible and pulled it close to her. Taking a sip of her milk she opened the worn pages to the book of Ruth. It was one of her favorite books in the Bible. Her mother would read it to Heather every Saturday night.
Heather loved the time spent with her mother reading about the strong Ruth who bravely followed her mother-in-law to a strange land. But it was the love between Boaz and Ruth that Heather loved to read about the most.
The book of Ruth started with a famine and then Naomi losing both her husband and sons, making her and her two daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah widows. Woven through the
