Page 56 - Fever 1793

Spiderwebs hung in the corners of the room. It felt like I had been gone a lifetime.
“Have a seat, girl,” Grandfather instructed. “You’re still weak.”
“Only if you sit as well,” I said. “Your face is as red as an overripe cherry.” I did not mention how
hard he was breathing. We moved two chairs to the door, where the air was a mite cooler. He massaged his left arm.
“Old battle wound,” he said when he noticed my concern. “This arm goes pins and needles from time to time. The heat doesn’t help any, nor this commotion.”
He was still breathing hard, but his eyes had lost that glazed look they’d had in the kitchen. He needed a good night’s sleep in his own bed, I decided.
“Right. When you were here a few days ago, everything was in order and locked up tight. You thought that Mother had gone to the Ludingtons’ farm.”
“And Eliza,” he said. “She would have asked Eliza to join her.”
“Eliza wouldn’t go. She has family here and would have wanted to help. You know Eliza would never run from trouble.”
He nodded his head.
“Whoever came here didn’t go abovestairs,” I continued. “Maybe they saw the fever rag and thought there was still an invalid in the house.”
“It didn’t stop them from destroying everything they touched,” he said. “Was anything else stolen?” “Food. They took every scrap of food in the kitchen, even the . . .” I froze. “The strongbox!”
I fumbled with the tread of the hollow stair, then threw it to the side and lifted out the metal box. I
opened the lid. It was still there, pence and shillings. Thank heaven for that.
I returned the box to its hiding place. It could be worse, I thought. The house is still standing. We’re
alive. Mother and Eliza must be somewhere safe, I had to believe that. The fever would soon be over, and our lives would return to normal. I just had to stay clever and strong and find something to eat.
A tear surprised me by rolling down my cheek. “None of that, Mattie girl,” I whispered to myself as I scrubbed the tear away. “This is not the time to be childish.”
A familiar yowl came from the back door. Silas waited at the threshold, unwilling to risk his paws on the messy floor.
I carried him in to Grandfather. “Here’s a friendly face,” I said as I held the cat close. “He seems healthy enough.” I scratched between his ears. Silas rubbed his face in my hair. “Why didn’t you scare those intruders away?”
“They probably fed the beast a bite of ham, and he showed them the way to Eliza’s goodies,” said Grandfather.
He tried to lift his sword and scabbard to its place over the mantle, but his arms shook too badly. I set Silas down and took the sword from him. “Let me help you,” I said. I raised the sword to its resting place.
“Thank you, my sweet,” Grandfather said. “Don’t know what’s come over me.”
“I know,” I said firmly. “We’ve just come through a battle and you need time to recuperate.” I wagged my finger at him like a commanding officer. “Captain Cook, you must report to your bedroll immediately for an extended leave, Sir. Fresh water will be fetched for you.
He saluted me. “Yes, Ma’am, General Mattie.”
I listened with envy as his boots shuffled up the stairs and clumped into his chamber. I wanted to take a nap. Why couldn’t someone else come to clean up the mess and fetch the water? Silas looked at me skeptically.
“You’re right,” I sighed. “If I don’t do it, no one will. But first, I need something to eat. Even Mother believed in a good meal before chores. Let’s get Grandfather’s water and see what we can salvage for supper.” Silas followed me outside.