***
Hester raced down the stairs calling for Jonas, her heart filled with fear, all manner of terrifying thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. What if Jonas had fallen down the stairs? What if some snake or other dangerous animal lived in the basement?
“Jonas!” she called again, the name turning to a scream as her heel caught on a broken board and she plunged head first into the darkness below.
“Hester!” Mrs. August ran to the door leading down to the cellar as the young woman’s scream echoed into the kitchen above. “Hester, what’s happened?” A cold dread raced down the housekeeper’s spine at the silence that replied.
“Mr. Payton,” Mrs. August called running out the back door, panic on her heels. “Mr. Payton, help!”
“What’s wrong?” Cecil grabbed the porch rail swinging up the stairs and into the house.
“Hester,” Mrs. August pointed at the door. “She was looking for Jonas and ran down stairs. I heard her scream and then nothing.”
Cecil felt his blood run cold as he strode into the kitchen snatching the cold lamp from the table and striking a match. “I’ll find her, you keep looking for Jonas.”
Cecil pulled the cellar door wide, taking a step forward as he lifted the lamp. Ragged cobwebs and draping dust filled filament dribbled from the rafters like sad confetti, but Cecil pressed on. He should have been down here already. He should have known that sooner or later someone, maybe even one of the children would be overcome with curiosity.
“Please God, let them be safe,” Cecil whispered. “They both need to be okay.”
As the circle of light advanced in front of him Cecil scanned the stairs below. Several were cracked, but he couldn’t see far enough ahead to know what lay further down.
“Hester?” he called, his voice sounding hushed in the dank air. “Jonas?”
A soft shuffle caught his ear, and Cecil turned focusing the light of the lamp in that direction.
A sad meow drew him further on and he gasped as he spied Hester crumpled at the bottom of the long flight of stairs. Stepping over the broken riser, Cecil hurried toward the young woman, placing the lamp on the earthen floor.
“Hester,” he called softly, grasping her shoulders and rolling her toward him. Her limp body moved easily, and he gasped at the trickle of blood coming from just above her hairline. “Hester, wake up.” Cecil’s voice hitched in his throat, and he quickly placed his fingers along her throat sighing when a strong steady pulse vibrated through them.
“Cecil!” Hyke’s heavy foot falls on the stairs made the younger man look up, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light in Hyke’s hand.
“Here, Hyke.” Cecil shifted Hester, slipping his hands under her back. “Help me with Hester. I think she fell.”
Hyke groaned a deep fearful sound that hit Cecil in the heart like an arrow. “Is she?” the words died on the old man’s lips.
“She’s alive,” Cecil said bracing himself and lifting Hester in his arms. “Follow me up, so I don’t trip.”
Hyke spun, still holding the light high as Cecil began climbing the stairs, his light burden clutched close to his heart. Reaching out with his free hand, Hyke braced against Cecil as he stepped over the broken stair.
“The couch,” Mrs. August snapped as the men emerged from the cellar, a silent cat slinking behind them. “I’ll fetch water.”
Cecil obeyed without question carrying Hester through to the large living area to the horsehair sofa where he laid her down with great care.
“Out of the way,” Mrs. August was all business, and the men jumped to comply, stepping back and watching as the housekeeper began dabbing at Hester’s wound. “She’s alive, thank the Good Lord, but a bump to the head can be tricky. Are there any broken bones?”
Cecil turned to Hyke who shook his head. “I’m not sure,” Mr. Payton replied.
“You need to go look for Jonas,” Mrs. August continued, all efficient business. “The boy needs to be found.”
“I’ll go up, you go down,” Hyke turned speaking to Cecil, his dark eyes full of worry.
Cecil nodded turning back toward the kitchen.
“Uncle Cecil?” Jonas walked slowly down the stairs looking into the living room. “I’ve lost Hebbie,” he continued walking up to his uncle who stared at him in disbelief. “What happened to Hester?”
Cecil grasped the boy in a fierce hug pulling him tight, ignoring the boy’s dusty clothing and disheveled hair. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Hester was looking for you in the cellar.” Cecil’s voice hitched. “She fell.”
“I was in the attic,” Jonas replied. “I’m going to make a clubhouse, and Mark and Georgie can play there with me.” The boy pulled from his uncle’s arms stepping up to the sofa and taking Hester’s limp hand. “Is Hester gonna die?” The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t let Hester die.”
“She’s not going to die,” Mrs. August snapped, starting slightly as the skinny calico wrapped around her ankles with a purr. “Go fetch your sister to take the cat,” she finished. “I’ll take good care of Hester.”
Jonas raced out of the room bellowing for his sister, the front door slamming seconds later as he went in search of Beverly. Today had not gone the way he would have liked. “God, let Hester be okay,” he called. “I promise I won’t let Hebbie out again if she doesn’t want me to, just let her be okay.”
“Who are you talking to,” Beverly walked around the end of the house, a nanny goat on her heels.
“God,” the boy replied. “Hester fell down and won’t wake up. I don’t want Hester to die.”
Beverly reached out hugging her little brother. “Hester is strong. I’m sure she’ll be all right, but I’ll pray too, just the way she showed us.”
Chapter 21
Hester opened her eyes looking around her at the
