Freedom's Price by Jenna Kernan

Author:Jenna Kernan [Kernan, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947268173
Publisher: Snow Raven Publishing
Published: 2020-02-10T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Thomas’s cough filled her fitful dreams, bringing her awake in the second night.

The following morning, she padded his makeshift bed with dry grasses and covered him with the blanket.

He drank the broth when she insisted.

“Frances?”

She stiffened. He called to his dead sister again, and the thought that he spoke to her sent a chill up Mary’s spine.

“I saved the child. Don’t die. Please God, spare her life.”

His pitiful pleas tugged at her heart. Her own experience showed that God did not save a loved one because you asked.

She whispered, “Frances, can you hear me? I love him, and I’ll not lose him to the grave. Help me keep him here.”

His skin scorched her questing fingers. She wondered how much longer his body could burn with fever. His cough grew weaker by day, and that night he brought up black phlegm with blood. Her fears grew with the darkness for she knew that souls often fled in the wee hours before dawn.

She dragged the wet cloth over him again, thinking her tending of little benefit, but the washing of his skin was all she could do to aid him. The real battle took place within his lungs.

“You’re strong, Thomas,” she whispered. “You can master this. Think of your land. You’ve nearly planted the seven. Think of your nephew, James. You promised your sister you would raise him.”

And think of me. I love you. Don’t leave me.

Exhaustion took her to restless dreams still gripping the drying cloth. She held him as she dozed. When she woke, the stillness about her sent a lightning bolt of terror ripping through her stomach. She held her breath and wondered what had awakened her.

Then she felt it. Someone stroked her hair. She turned her head to find Thomas smiling down at her in the early morning light.

“Thomas?” She sat up, pressing a hand to his forehead. A cold sweat covered his skin.

No fever.

“Do you know me?” she asked.

“I could hear you in my dreams. You kept telling me I had to finish the seven.” He smiled. “I didn’t want to. I kept telling you to leave me be. Then Frances said I had to go back and look after James. She held me to my promise.”

Mary swallowed. Was that her voice he’d heard or his sister’s? She crossed herself and silently thanked Frances for sending him back to her.

He laughed and then coughed. She held a shallow trencher of water to his lips and he drank.

“How long have we been sleeping under this tree?” he asked.

She rubbed her cheek as she thought on that. “Three nights.”

“How are Anne and James?” he asked.

“Well. Both well.” She stroked his cheek. “I thought I lost you.”

His warm hand covered hers and he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Never that.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

He nodded.

Three times she filled the trencher with rabbit stew, and he finished each serving. Afterward, she helped him to his feet, so he could relieve himself. When he’d finished, she offered the new green breeches.

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