Edge of Light (At Home in Beldon Grove Book #1) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Ann Shorey

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149 pages

English

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It is the summer of 1838 in St. Lawrenceville, Missouri, and Molly McGarvie's life is about to change forever. When her beloved Samuel succumbs to cholera, Molly is heartbroken but determined to take care of herself and her children. But when Samuel's unscrupulous brother takes over the family business and leaves Molly to fend for herself, she knows she must head out on her own. It is a dangerous journey and Molly has to leave her old life behind. Somehow she must find a way to make a living, keep her family together, and fend off some over-eager suitors.Book one in the At Home in Beldon Grove series, The Edge of Light will captivate readers with the true-to-life emotions of one woman's struggle to survive.

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 janvier 2009
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441203632
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0259€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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THE EDGE of LIGHT
AT HOME IN Beldon Grove
THE E DGE of L IGHT
ANN SHOREY
2009 by Ann Shorey
Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-for example, electronic, photocopy, recording-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Shorey, Ann Kirk, 1941- The edge of light / Ann Shorey. p. cm. - (At home in Beldon Grove ; 1) ISBN 978-0-8007-3330-8 (pbk.) 1. Widows-Fiction. 2. Missing children-Fiction. 3. Illinois-Fiction. I. Title. PS3619.H666E34 2009 813 .6-dc22
2008033781
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
For Mary Elizabeth Matot 1944-1993 Because I promised.
Contents
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
1
St. Lawrenceville, Missouri July 1838
Molly McGarvie struggled to stand, the weight of her pregnancy an anchor fastening her to the ground. Maybe Samuel s back. It s been almost three weeks.
Betsy walked to her mistress and extended a hand, pulling Molly to her feet. Don t get your hopes up. Mr. Samuel said he was fixing to be gone a month.
I worry something might happen to him.
You re borrowing trouble. Ain t nothing ever happened before, has it?
Molly shook her head. No. But I still want him home. She smiled at the sight of her three children napping on a coverlet spread over the grass. Late afternoon sun angled through the grove of redbud trees, painting shadow pictures across their faces. Children! Time to wake up. We don t want to be out after dark.
Sleepy-eyed, they tottered to their feet.
Wolves come in the dark, don t they, Mama? Three-year-old Luellen s voice climbed a scale of apprehension.
Molly leaned forward and stroked the black curls that fringed her daughter s face. Don t be afraid. We ll be home in plenty of time.
Luellen jutted her chin in the air. I m not afraid.
Molly shook her head. I should ve named you Mary, Mary, quite contrary.
She took Luellen s hand and started along the track toward their cabin. Betsy gathered the picnic basket and blankets and fell in behind them on the dusty trail. Like puppies, her two sons chased each other in circles at the rear of the procession.
When she crested the hill above the settlement, Molly spotted their buckboard outside the stable. Samuel s back! She dropped Luellen s hand and hurried down the path.
Once in front of the cabin, she looked past the buckboard and saw her husband in the stable tending to his horse. She hastened toward him. What a wonderful surprise! You re early.
Samuel met Molly near the opening of the three-sided log structure, part of the black gelding s harness draped over one shoulder. He cupped his free hand around the back of her head and kissed the place on her forehead where her black hair grew in a widow s peak. You re a sight for sore eyes, Wife. Soon s I finish with Captain I ll be up to the house.
I ll wait. Molly rested against a bag of grain while her husband hung the traces over a peg. She loved watching his long-fingered, broad-palmed hands as he worked. Molly believed there was nothing he couldn t accomplish with the strength hidden inside them.
You finished building the courthouse quicker than you thought. I m glad.
It s not done yet. Samuel swayed slightly when he squatted to unfasten Captain s bellyband and hip straps. When I was on the scaffold this morning, my legs all of a sudden give out. Would of fell off, but my helper grabbed hold of me and got me down. I left him to finish the job and come on home.
Molly felt a prickle of alarm. What s wrong?
Don t know. Got sick to my stomach a couple times on the way. He hung the pieces of tack on another peg.
She reached up and felt his forehead. You have a fever! Let s get you to bed-the boys can feed the horse.
Aw, Molly, don t- He doubled over with a grunt of pain. Clutching his abdomen, he pushed past her and ran behind the stable.
She heard violent retching. Her sons ran across the packed earth in front of their cabin, trailed by Luellen.
Franklin raced past her, headed inside the stable. Where s Papa?
Molly caught the back of the younger boy s shirt and tugged him away from the log shelter. Papa s sick. You stay here. She looked at Betsy. Help me get Samuel inside.
Where s he at?
Behind the stable.
Betsy faced James. You watch the chil ren for a few minutes. I ll be back directly.
James reached for Luellen s hand, but she sidled away. Her lower lip protruded. I want to see Papa.
Not now. Molly s expression left no room for argument.
When the two women reached Samuel, they found him on his hands and knees. Between them they managed to help him to his feet. Once he started across the barnyard, he jerked free and stumbled toward the open door of their one-room cabin.
Molly s heart raced as she followed his unsteady progress. What s wrong?
He stopped and rested his head against the doorframe. A sheen of sweat covered his face.
Molly wrapped an arm around his waist. Let me help you. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness inside. The small window under the loft allowed only a thin rib of light through its thick panes. Half supporting, half pushing, Molly guided her husband around a long puncheon table toward the sleeping area under the open stairway.
She rolled the patchwork coverlet back, revealing a linen sheet wrapped over a feather tick. Samuel sat on the edge, slumped like a puppet without strings.
The younger children followed them into the cabin. Papa?
Molly blocked their path. I told you Papa s sick. You go outside with Betsy. James hovered near the door, a worried expression on his face. Son, go fetch Dr. Carson.
No! Doc Carson s a quack. Samuel s voice sounded raspy. Get the new doc . . . He paused, forehead wrinkled. Spengler, I think his name is.
Spengler s in Fox River. James can t go that far by himself. He s only eight. Besides, Dr. Carson helped when Luellen had asthma, didn t he?
Samuel doubled up, gasping. Get the chamber pot, quick!
Molly grabbed it just as he leaned over and vomited a stream of yellow bile. When James hesitated at the door, she said, Go! Now! Get Dr. Carson and tell him to hurry.
The doctor stood at the far end of the table that bisected the cabin, his leather satchel open in front of him. A florid-faced man, he had the stub of a cigar clamped between his teeth. It s probably cholera.
The words struck like bullets. Molly stood speechless, roaring filling her ears. Please, Lord, don t take my Samuel.
Apparently reading the terror on her face, Dr. Carson added, If we re lucky, it s a mild case. There s every reason to believe he ll recover.
She grasped at the hope in his statement. But . . . I thought no one ever recovered from cholera.
They do, more than folks think. He picked a shred of tobacco from his lower lip and wiped his fingers on his pant leg. Just takes the right doctoring-and catching it early.
Molly looked at her husband, spent after bouts of vomiting, then glanced out the open door at her youngsters. Are the children in danger? She spoke in a whisper, as though she could sneak the question past whatever fates controlled their destiny.
Not if you farm them out, Miz McGarvie. Keep them away from Samuel until he s well. He flicked the cigar stub into the open fireplace behind him. Can you get your husband s brother to take them?
Molly cocked her head, considering. Would he do it? I suppose I could ask. But first, tell me how you ll cure my husband.
He ll pull through if I can get enough of this calomel down him. It ll purge the sickness. He placed a brown bottle on the tabletop, then reached back into his bag and lifted out a footed glass jar, its top covered with a piece of muslin. A dozen or more five-inch-long wormlike creatures squirmed inside. Leeches. Bleeding him ought to get rid of the fever.
She eyed the doctor s food-spotted shirt and tobacco-stained hands. What do you think, Samuel? Tell me what to do.
He shook his head. I don t know. We ll have to- He hung his head over the edge of the bed and vomited again.
Molly stood frozen in the center of the room.
Betsy slipped an arm over her shoulders. Want me to set with him whilst you take the chil ren to Mr. Brody s?
Dr. Carson looked up, a squirming leech pinched between his fingers. You might as well go. Nothing you can do right now.
Molly nodded. She walked to the bed and bent to kiss Samuel s forehead, feeling the fever burn through his skin onto her lips. I ll be back soon. She stopped to light a lantern and then gathered her children.
Luellen tugged at Molly s skirt and lifted her arms to be carried. Molly shook her head. You re not a baby. You can walk. We re just going down the road to Uncle Brody s. She took the girl s hand and started south on the dirt track that led through St. Lawrenceville. Come on, she called to her sons. Auntie Patience will take care of you until Papa s well.
Lantern light flickered across Patience s spiteful gaze. I can t possibly look after your children. You know we re already crowded with our three.
Samuel s younger brother Brody pushed past his wife and stood on the porch. It s not that we don t sympathize, you understand. Tell Bub I ll stop by tomorrow to see how he s doing.
A pulse throbbed in her temple. After all Samuel s done for you? You can t make room for his children? She glared at him. He didn t worry about being crowded when you needed shelter