The Meeting Place by T. Davis Bunn

Author:T. Davis Bunn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2011-05-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Catherine raised a slender hand to push back her tangled hair, and peeked through a corner of the bedroom window curtain. It was not yet dawn, yet in spite of great weariness she was unable to sleep. She lay back, not wanting to disturb her husband. If she could not sleep, at least she should try to rest.

But it was not to be. Her entire body felt agitated and her stomach upset. At length she gave up and raised herself to a sitting position. Silently she pushed her feet into the woolen slippers by the bed and eased herself upward, her eyes still on Andrew. When he did not stir, Catherine breathed a relieved sigh and stole from the room.

The fire had gone out, but the front room was not chilled. In fact, Catherine felt too warm. As she reached for kindling she fretted that she might be coming down with the influenza.

She lowered herself to the rocking chair as a wave of nausea passed through her. This was the third day she had felt so sick to her stomach. The feeling had gradually passed as she had moved about her duties, but it had been difficult to prepare Andrew’s breakfasts. Already she dreaded the thought of standing over a hot stove stirring the morning porridge.

But Andrew would not be up for another hour. She had some time to get herself in hand. Perhaps by the time she needed to begin breakfast she would be feeling better. She reached for her Bible and tried to settle herself into a more comfortable position.

But she found it difficult to concentrate on the passage. Her nausea came in swells, much like the tides of the Fundy. They swept over her, totally absorbing her entire body, making her fear she might vomit, wishing that she couldvomit. Then at least the awful spasms might recede.

She laid aside the beloved Book and leaned her head against the back of the rocker. She dared not rock. Even the slight gentle movement seemed to increase her discomfort. She sat perfectly still, almost holding her breath in her desire to keep herself in control.

“Are you ill?”

The words from Andrew made her jerk upright. Another wave of nausea passed over her. She fought to regain her composure.

“I think it’s just a bit of upset stomach,” she managed to answer, trying hard to smile as she spoke.

“Perhaps you need to take some of the restorative from the cupboard.”

Something deep within Catherine resisted. Not just that the potion provided to Andrew for his men was bitter in taste, but there was some inner warning that she should be very careful about any self-cures.

“I’m sure it will pass,” Catherine answered. “As before.”

“You’ve had this before?” Andrew moved toward her, rubbing his hand through untidy locks. His eyes held concern.

Catherine stirred restlessly in the chair. She had disclosed too much. But she could not retract the statement. “A bit,” she answered, hoping that Andrew would accept the offhand reply and not question her further.

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