Read Online The Endless Forest by Sara Donati - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sara Donati
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trying to lift her head to see who it was.
Hannah spoke to her in a low voice. She said, “Still now, while I’m working.”
Mrs. Oxley seemed not to hear her. “Is that Friend Molly? Where is her daughter? Where are her grandchildren?”
Hannah turned to Maria’s oldest boy. “Joshua, please go over and speak kindly to Mrs. Noble. Find out if there’s anything we can do for her.”
For the first time a faint smile showed itself on Mrs. Oxley’s face. “Yes,” she whispered. “Joshua, thou must go and see to Friend Molly. And please see if there’s any tea to be had.”
The boy looked at his brothers and sisters. They were wrapped in a variety of blankets and sheets and every one of them looked dazed. Mrs. Oxley saw her son’s hesitation and understood it.
“The little ones are safe. Go to Friend Molly.”
Joshua looked as though he might be sick right where he stood, but he did as he was bid. He wound his way through the crowded kitchen to crouch down beside the elderly Molly Noble and speak to her. Joshua was just Birdie’s age—they sat near each other at school—but she rarely saw him outside the classroom.
“Such a good child,” Mrs. Oxley said. “Sweet-tempered and biddable. He’s been in charge of the sheep for three years now, and he’s done very well with them.” She paused. “I fear we lost the whole herd.”
“Maria,” Hannah said. “You must brace yourself now. I’m going to set the bone. It will hurt, but it will be over quickly.”
“May all our conflicts and trials be sanctified,” Mrs. Oxley said, her eyes on her children. “May the merciful God in heaven keep and protect us all.”
The travelers came in Curiosity’s front door and found themselves in the middle of what looked like a hospital ward. The hall was filled with refugees from the flood, many of them in an exhausted sleep and others who barely took note of yet more people arriving. Lily didn’t see a single familiar face and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was, exactly.
“Friend Elizabeth,” said an older woman, holding out a hand. “Is there any news? Is the river still rising? If I might ask of thee, is there word of my sister and her family?”
Lily’s mother crouched down and spoke a few words. Her tone was so soft and gentle that while it was impossible to make out what she was saying, there was still comfort to be had.
Raised voices could be heard in the kitchen, and one of them was Curiosity’s. Lily went ahead, her muddy traveling cloak trailing behind her, her boots squelching with every step.
“You’ll want to get out of them clothes right quick,” said a man with a bandaged head and a mouthful of bloody teeth. “Or you’ll take a chill.” Then she recognized him: Jim Bookman, who had been a militia officer in the last war, and now was sheriff and possibly even a magistrate—something she might have been able to remember if not for the crusted blood on his face.
“Yes,” she said. “Of course. Thank you. Has my sister seen to your wounds?”
He had eyes the color of periwinkle, as blue as her own, but the expression there was sharper, as if he saw more and better than anyone should.
“There’s others hurt worse than me,” he said. “I can wait.”
The kitchen door swung open and she stepped through.
“I won’t have it,” Curiosity was saying. “Not in my kitchen.”
The young girl in front of her was weeping, though her expression was mutinous. The cause of Curiosity’s displeasure was the basket in the girl’s arms, and what looked to be a half dozen raccoon kits.
“But their mama left them,” the girl wailed. “They’ll drown.”
“Better them than you,” Curiosity said, but she huffed a little. “Take that basket out to Miz Hannah’s laboratory and give it over to Emmanuel if you must. He’s got a fire going and they’ll perk up quick enough. But if they leave their droppings all over that clean floor it’ll be your hide Miz Hannah
Hannah spoke to her in a low voice. She said, “Still now, while I’m working.”
Mrs. Oxley seemed not to hear her. “Is that Friend Molly? Where is her daughter? Where are her grandchildren?”
Hannah turned to Maria’s oldest boy. “Joshua, please go over and speak kindly to Mrs. Noble. Find out if there’s anything we can do for her.”
For the first time a faint smile showed itself on Mrs. Oxley’s face. “Yes,” she whispered. “Joshua, thou must go and see to Friend Molly. And please see if there’s any tea to be had.”
The boy looked at his brothers and sisters. They were wrapped in a variety of blankets and sheets and every one of them looked dazed. Mrs. Oxley saw her son’s hesitation and understood it.
“The little ones are safe. Go to Friend Molly.”
Joshua looked as though he might be sick right where he stood, but he did as he was bid. He wound his way through the crowded kitchen to crouch down beside the elderly Molly Noble and speak to her. Joshua was just Birdie’s age—they sat near each other at school—but she rarely saw him outside the classroom.
“Such a good child,” Mrs. Oxley said. “Sweet-tempered and biddable. He’s been in charge of the sheep for three years now, and he’s done very well with them.” She paused. “I fear we lost the whole herd.”
“Maria,” Hannah said. “You must brace yourself now. I’m going to set the bone. It will hurt, but it will be over quickly.”
“May all our conflicts and trials be sanctified,” Mrs. Oxley said, her eyes on her children. “May the merciful God in heaven keep and protect us all.”
The travelers came in Curiosity’s front door and found themselves in the middle of what looked like a hospital ward. The hall was filled with refugees from the flood, many of them in an exhausted sleep and others who barely took note of yet more people arriving. Lily didn’t see a single familiar face and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was, exactly.
“Friend Elizabeth,” said an older woman, holding out a hand. “Is there any news? Is the river still rising? If I might ask of thee, is there word of my sister and her family?”
Lily’s mother crouched down and spoke a few words. Her tone was so soft and gentle that while it was impossible to make out what she was saying, there was still comfort to be had.
Raised voices could be heard in the kitchen, and one of them was Curiosity’s. Lily went ahead, her muddy traveling cloak trailing behind her, her boots squelching with every step.
“You’ll want to get out of them clothes right quick,” said a man with a bandaged head and a mouthful of bloody teeth. “Or you’ll take a chill.” Then she recognized him: Jim Bookman, who had been a militia officer in the last war, and now was sheriff and possibly even a magistrate—something she might have been able to remember if not for the crusted blood on his face.
“Yes,” she said. “Of course. Thank you. Has my sister seen to your wounds?”
He had eyes the color of periwinkle, as blue as her own, but the expression there was sharper, as if he saw more and better than anyone should.
“There’s others hurt worse than me,” he said. “I can wait.”
The kitchen door swung open and she stepped through.
“I won’t have it,” Curiosity was saying. “Not in my kitchen.”
The young girl in front of her was weeping, though her expression was mutinous. The cause of Curiosity’s displeasure was the basket in the girl’s arms, and what looked to be a half dozen raccoon kits.
“But their mama left them,” the girl wailed. “They’ll drown.”
“Better them than you,” Curiosity said, but she huffed a little. “Take that basket out to Miz Hannah’s laboratory and give it over to Emmanuel if you must. He’s got a fire going and they’ll perk up quick enough. But if they leave their droppings all over that clean floor it’ll be your hide Miz Hannah
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