Bittersweet by Cathy Marie Hake

Author:Cathy Marie Hake [Hake, Cathy Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Historical, ebook, book
ISBN: 9781410403643
Google: nhYLJQAACAAJ
Publisher: Thorndike Press
Published: 2008-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It ain’t busted, but it shore is nasty,” Ivy declared.

Galen flipped the hem of Ma’s gown back down to cover her ankle. He’d come to the same conclusion as Ivy, but having her volunteer her unsought opinion grated on his already-raw nerves. “Ma, hold on to me.” He looped her arm around his neck.

“Ishy, run ahead and git the tin bucket of water outta the springhouse.”

“This is a bunch of nonsense,” Ma protested. “I can walk.”

Galen ignored her and carried her back to the house.

“I’ll wrap it up in a cold water towel. ’Twon’t get so swoll up thataway.” Ivy dashed over to the bed. “Mr. O’Sullivan, you lay her down here, and I’ll tuck a pillow ’neath her foot. Mrs. O’Sullivan, ma’am, don’t mean you no disrespect, but I aim to peel off them stockin’s of yourn.”

Galen stepped away from the bed and turned his back. Judging from the way Ma’s ankle had already started to swell, her stocking needed to come off. Ma never made an issue out of being the only female in the family; she managed to bathe and dress when the boys were otherwise occupied. Had he needed to, Galen would have pulled off her stocking; but since another woman was present, it seemed better to let Ma keep her modesty. Even if it is Ivy.

Ishmael rushed into the house. “I brung the pail, sis. Water’s real nice and cool. I cain hie back to town if ’n you need me to fetch the doctor.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ma said in a firm tone.

“Doc cain’t do nothin’ more’n what we’ll do,” Ivy stated with great certainty. “I got me some willow bark in a cigar box. I’ll bile up a tea that’ll holp you feel loads better.”

“Miz O’Sullivan—” Ishmael set the pail beside his sister and patted Ma’s shoulder with an awkward gentleness—“I spied a nice straight sycamore branch t’other day. I’ll fetch it back and carve you a walkin’ stick right away.”

“She’s a short dab of a woman, Ishy. Only make it up to yore hip.”

“Ishmael is leaving.” Galen enunciated the words in low, forceful tone.

Ivy stopped wringing the dishcloth. The only sound in the cabin was the steady drip-drip-drip of water back into the bucket. Carefully, she draped the cloth over the rim. With measured steps, Ivy went to the cupboard and pulled out the metal sheet Ma used for baking cookies. She covered it with a folded towel, eased it beneath Ma’s foot, then wrapped the cold cloth around her ankle.

It wasn’t until Ivy straightened back up and turned to her brother that Galen noticed tears slipping down her gaunt cheeks. Ishmael unashamedly dragged his sleeve across his own eyes, then held her tight. She clung to him, so he shifted her to the side and kept her in the shelter of his arm as he crossed the room and out the door.

Galen turned back toward Ma. Tears rained down her face, too. “If you’re hurting so, I’ll go fetch Doc.”

She shook her head.

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