“Well, Lord, here we are. Now what?” Adam asked.
19
Lark sure had not seen this coming.
While Del and Lilac started the fire and breakfast the next morning, Lark surveyed the empty grassland around them. Three wagons alone on the prairie with four sisters—one terribly ill—three orphaned children, and a bellowing milk cow. Oh, and a doctor and his nephew. Keeping up her disguise while being thrown together with these men added yet another worry knot to her stomach.
Lark grabbed the milk pail and greeted Dr. Brownsville as he approached their campsite. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. Stay here.”
“Just as you didn’t have to take in these children?” His smile seemed forced. “How is she?”
“We’re heating some of the broth from the prairie chicken and will see if she can keep it down.” Dr. Brownsville showed concern for all his patients. But was there something different in his care for Forsythia? She wasn’t sure. “Feel free to check on Sythia. I’ve got to milk Buttercup. She’s been carrying on since dawn.”
Josiah Hobson had graciously agreed to let them buy the cow for a reasonable price. At least they had milk for the baby and the children.
“Easy, girl.” Lark squatted beside the cow and patted her smooth, tawny side. She grasped the teats, and warm milk hissed into the pail. Right, left, right, left. The familiar rhythm eased the tension from her back and shoulders. Lark leaned her forehead into the cow’s comforting warmth. Lord, all this didn’t come as a surprise to you. But it sure did to us. Guide us, please. And heal Sythia. Leaning back to squint at the morning-gilded sky, she put all her heart into that last bit.
Birds rose and dipped in a cloud of wings over the waving grasses as she stood, milk frothing in the pail. She patted Buttercup’s side and moved her picket to a fresh grazing area. “Thanks for the good milk.”
Mikael was squalling for his breakfast. Del jiggled and shushed him on her shoulder.
“Doctor checking on Sythia?” Lark set down the pail.
“Mm-hmm. Hush, little one.”
Lilac dipped up a cupful of the fresh milk and carried it to Del. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Del poured the milk into the spouted cup Jesse had carved, which looked rather like a small wooden creamer. “This special little cup does help. But I need to figure out a way to tend Mikael and still be able to drive the oxen and do other chores, especially with Sythia ill.”
“Maybe we can make you a sling out of some of Ma’s fabric. Loop it around your shoulder and chest to keep him close but your hands free.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Lark poured the rest of the milk into the freshly scoured milk can. “I think we’ll only travel until we find a good campsite today, someplace with more shade, and then rest. We all need it, Forsythia most of all. Then maybe I can find a farm or something nearby where we can find out how to get to Salton. Could be we’re closer than we think.”
The doctor appeared from the Durhams’ wagon. “Got that broth ready?”
“Here it is.” Lilac ladled steaming liquid into a bowl.
“I’ll take it to her.” Lark took the bowl and added a spoon. “How does she seem to you, Doctor?”
He hesitated. “She’s awfully weak. And dehydrated. Even if she doesn’t want liquids, we’ll need to try to force them today. It might help to wrap her in wet clothes too.”
“Really?” Lark raised a brow. She hadn’t heard that one before.
“The skin can absorb more than you might think.”
Lark climbed into the wagon, balancing the bowl. “Hey, you.”
Forsythia’s eyelids fluttered. She tried to smile. “Hey.”
“I brought you some broth.” Lark laid her hand against her sister’s hot, dry cheek. “Sip.” She tipped the spoon against her lips.
Forsythia sipped, gagged, and turned her head away. “I can’t.”
“You’ve got to, Sythia.” Lark forced away the panic that pushed up her throat. I will trust and not be afraid. “I know you don’t want it, but it’s important. Just another sip.”
Forsythia managed two more spoonfuls, shuddering with the effort.
“Good girl.” Lark sat back. “We’ll try some water next or more tea.”
Forsythia seemed to have already fallen back asleep, her face so pale it pinched Lark’s heart. She climbed back down and headed to the campfire where her sisters and the doctor waited.
“She took some, but not as much as I’d like.” She showed the bowl.
“We’ll need to try some sort of liquid every hour,” the doctor said. “She’s still losing it with the diarrhea, though it’s not as violent now.”
Lilac looked up from fashioning a length of linen into a sling. “I’ll soak a nightdress in the creek to put on her as soon as I try this on Del.”
Del came near, burping little Mikael on her shoulder. “You think this will work?”
“I don’t see why not. I know immigrant women wear their babies this way, and Indian women, too, I think.” Lilac stood and wrapped the cloth over Del’s shoulder and under her arm, holding the baby firmly in place, then tied the ends on her shoulder. “How does that feel?”
“Good.” Del adjusted Mikael and tried moving about. “I don’t even have to hold him in place, he’s so secure. Thanks.” The baby blinked from his snug new position against her chest, then yawned and settled to sleep.
Together Lark and Lilac wrapped Forsythia in the wet nightdress and added a damp sheet, forcing water down her before and after.
Weary from the ordeal, Lark hupped the oxen on their way, the doctor taking over the Durhams’ ox while Jesse drove their wagon. Lord, I never would have asked Jesse and the doctor to stay with us, but I am grateful.
The morning sun at their backs, they headed northwest, what she hoped was the general direction of Salton. Once they found
