Liberty's Legacy by Heidi Sprouse

Author:Heidi Sprouse [Sprouse, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Time Travel, colonial America, american revolution, historical romance, johnstown ny
ISBN: 9781623900793
Goodreads: 40637741
Publisher: Salt Run Publishing
Published: 2018-06-11T00:00:00+00:00

19

5 August 1814

Benjamin Willson Cooper

Strong. Rebekah was so strong. Helping me to the privy. From the bed to the chair while she changed the bedding. Lifting me up to clean me when I lost whatever she tried to give me. I was too ill to care about the mess, embarrassing myself, or anything. The iron bands of her muscles beneath her buckskin tightened around my waist as Rebekah set me back on her bed. The cool mint of her breath kissed my skin and a small part of me longed to see her fine lines in a dress. Then my gut rebelled and pushed away all other thoughts.

The cramping twisted me in half. The pain! I had never known such torment, a fire burning in my bowels, in my gut, scorching hot. I wanted to scream but feared once I started I would never stop. I had not managed to keep anything down, not even a swallow since Jacob left. Now, my body was consuming itself, the fever turning me into a human torch.

Evening fell, and my angel was exhausted. After plying me with willow bark tea, for the fever, and broth, she carted in pitcher after pitcher of cold water. First to clean me when her efforts made a violent reappearance, then to bring down the sizzle on the surface of my skin.

Through the swollen slits that used to be my eyelids, I stared in a daze at Rebekah. She stood at a table she pulled up to the bed, her nightgown rumpled, her hair pulled into a hasty knot at the back of her head. I could barely make out her distracted mumbling as she ran her hands over the packets Tom Sutton brought on his latest run. She picked them up one by one, shaking them, as if hoping to jar their secrets loose.

With each one, panic made her voice rise. “Wild ginger for indigestion? Indigestion does not begin to describe it. Wintergreen to ease the pounding in his head and the fire in his bones? Slippery elm, for that blasted cough? Something hot might heal whatever ails his innards.” Her hands curled into fists at her sides and she spun around to look at me. “None of it will work, none of it, if I cannot get anything to stay inside of you! What do I do? Lord, tell me what to do.”

She turned back to her table and picked up another packet. “Mashed squaw vine. Yes, this has to work! It will flush out his system, washing out whatever beast is tearing the poor man apart. If I add the blood root and black cherry, I should be able to stop the diarrhea. These wild plums will heal the ulcers that have set him to bleeding inside. Finish it with elderberry and I will finally smother the coals of his fever. Yes—yes, this will work. Lord, help me.”

Frantic, Rebekah tried all her remedies. None of them stayed down, coming back with a vengeance. I ran like a river.

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