given to quiet smiles than to giggles.
The two of them set to work. Amy ignored her aching ribs. The pain was no longer sharp and frightening. Amy noticed that Meredith had turned pale and worked more slowly as the hours passed.
“Why don’t you go back to the cabin and start supper? I can finish here.”
The pale color of Meredith’s cheeks took on a faintly greenish tinge, and her shoulders slumped. “There’ll be mutton again tonight.” She said the words like she was reading a death notice, then walked away.
Exhausted by the time the light faded from the sky, Amy swept the cabin free of the last bits of twigs and leaves, then hurried back to help Meredith. Amy’s strength waned far too quickly. To make the meal more interesting, she gathered a few greens on her way. Noting a berry bush, Amy planned the dessert she would make when they were ripe.
She spotted a moss her mother had brewed into a tea that helped reduce fever and another useful in a poultice to prevent wounds from turning septic. She needed to lay in a supply of medicines, so she made a note of the location.
She stepped in the cabin just as Meredith set the steaks on to cook in a large iron kettle full of water. Meredith straightened from hanging the kettle and staggered backward.
Amy rushed forward and caught Meredith before she fell.
“Are you all right?” Amy turned Meredith to face her. Meredith’s cheeks were ashen, and her eyes weren’t focused.
“A–Amy?” Meredith groped for Amy’s arm as if she couldn’t see where to hang on.
“Sit down.” Amy urged Meredith to the table, settling her on a chair.
Meredith folded her arms on the table and laid her head down. “I must have straightened up too suddenly.”
“Are you feeling ill?” Amy ran a hand over Meredith’s disheveled hair. Meredith’s forehead glowed with sweat.
“No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Meredith lifted her head, then looked toward the fireplace, clamped her mouth shut tight, and laid her head down again.
“Is the smell of the steak making you dizzy?” Amy couldn’t imagine why that would be. Influenza had gone through the school in Seattle, but that kind of illness was rare in remote areas of Alaska. Other people had to bring the disease. If Amy had gotten sick on the boat and brought some sickness with her, that would make sense. But neither Amy nor Braden had experienced so much as a sniffle.
Meredith, her voice muffled by her arms and the table, said, “I think I need some fresh air.”
Amy watched as Meredith raised her head and shoved herself to her feet. Amy didn’t trust her not to fall again, so she took a firm grip on Meredith’s arm and steadied her until they got outside.
The stump Braden had used to chop kindling stood only a few feet from the house. Amy helped Meredith reach it, then eased her down.
“I think I know what’s wrong.” Meredith lifted her head and managed a true smile, even though her skin carried the chalky white of a long blizzard.
“What?”
“It’s better outside. I hadn’t realized how much the smell of cooking meat bothered me.”
“What is better? What is wrong?” Amy sorted through the illnesses her mother had taught her and the treatments. Did Meredith have a wound that had festered? Had she fallen and sustained some internal injury? Amy crouched down in front of Meredith to quiz her.
A secret smile on Meredith’s lips stopped Amy’s questions. A blush crept up Meredith’s cheeks, erasing the frightening pallor as Meredith’s hand slid to her stomach.
“I think I’m carrying Ian’s child.” A soft laugh escaped Meredith’s lips, and she quickly moved one hand to catch the sound.
Amy dropped the rest of the way to the ground. “Really?” A smile spread across her face as she looked at Meredith’s joyful expression.
“I’ve been wondering for a couple of weeks, but I wasn’t sure. That must be it, don’t you think?”
Amy knew something about babies and how they were
The two of them set to work. Amy ignored her aching ribs. The pain was no longer sharp and frightening. Amy noticed that Meredith had turned pale and worked more slowly as the hours passed.
“Why don’t you go back to the cabin and start supper? I can finish here.”
The pale color of Meredith’s cheeks took on a faintly greenish tinge, and her shoulders slumped. “There’ll be mutton again tonight.” She said the words like she was reading a death notice, then walked away.
Exhausted by the time the light faded from the sky, Amy swept the cabin free of the last bits of twigs and leaves, then hurried back to help Meredith. Amy’s strength waned far too quickly. To make the meal more interesting, she gathered a few greens on her way. Noting a berry bush, Amy planned the dessert she would make when they were ripe.
She spotted a moss her mother had brewed into a tea that helped reduce fever and another useful in a poultice to prevent wounds from turning septic. She needed to lay in a supply of medicines, so she made a note of the location.
She stepped in the cabin just as Meredith set the steaks on to cook in a large iron kettle full of water. Meredith straightened from hanging the kettle and staggered backward.
Amy rushed forward and caught Meredith before she fell.
“Are you all right?” Amy turned Meredith to face her. Meredith’s cheeks were ashen, and her eyes weren’t focused.
“A–Amy?” Meredith groped for Amy’s arm as if she couldn’t see where to hang on.
“Sit down.” Amy urged Meredith to the table, settling her on a chair.
Meredith folded her arms on the table and laid her head down. “I must have straightened up too suddenly.”
“Are you feeling ill?” Amy ran a hand over Meredith’s disheveled hair. Meredith’s forehead glowed with sweat.
“No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Meredith lifted her head, then looked toward the fireplace, clamped her mouth shut tight, and laid her head down again.
“Is the smell of the steak making you dizzy?” Amy couldn’t imagine why that would be. Influenza had gone through the school in Seattle, but that kind of illness was rare in remote areas of Alaska. Other people had to bring the disease. If Amy had gotten sick on the boat and brought some sickness with her, that would make sense. But neither Amy nor Braden had experienced so much as a sniffle.
Meredith, her voice muffled by her arms and the table, said, “I think I need some fresh air.”
Amy watched as Meredith raised her head and shoved herself to her feet. Amy didn’t trust her not to fall again, so she took a firm grip on Meredith’s arm and steadied her until they got outside.
The stump Braden had used to chop kindling stood only a few feet from the house. Amy helped Meredith reach it, then eased her down.
“I think I know what’s wrong.” Meredith lifted her head and managed a true smile, even though her skin carried the chalky white of a long blizzard.
“What?”
“It’s better outside. I hadn’t realized how much the smell of cooking meat bothered me.”
“What is better? What is wrong?” Amy sorted through the illnesses her mother had taught her and the treatments. Did Meredith have a wound that had festered? Had she fallen and sustained some internal injury? Amy crouched down in front of Meredith to quiz her.
A secret smile on Meredith’s lips stopped Amy’s questions. A blush crept up Meredith’s cheeks, erasing the frightening pallor as Meredith’s hand slid to her stomach.
“I think I’m carrying Ian’s child.” A soft laugh escaped Meredith’s lips, and she quickly moved one hand to catch the sound.
Amy dropped the rest of the way to the ground. “Really?” A smile spread across her face as she looked at Meredith’s joyful expression.
“I’ve been wondering for a couple of weeks, but I wasn’t sure. That must be it, don’t you think?”
Amy knew something about babies and how they were
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