her up?” He gently lowered the pump into a bucket of water while Amy went to attach the wires.
Since she had discovered his condition, Amy was noticing all sorts of things. He held the pump steady with one hand, but his face showed a slight strain. That would be unremarkable in anyone else, as the pump weighed some thirty pounds. Her dad, however, was something of a legend at the ranch for his strength. He had been relieved of most of the farming and gardening duties because he was too hard on tools. Several of the stronger men had snapped spade handles working in the rocky soil of the valley. Marlin had snapped a blade.
She attached the wires, and the pump rumbled to life. Water shot out of its top. Amy shared a relieved look with her father. “Well, that’s one thing you won’t have to worry about while I’m gone,” he said as she killed the connection. “We’ll get Luke to help us put it back down later today.”
He wiped at his face, which was bright red. “I’ll take it up to the pump house,” she said, “you head home. Elisabeth will probably have lunch done by now.”
Marlin gave her a pained look. “Probably chicken noodle soup again,” he muttered. Amy returned a stern look.
She didn’t care what he did or did not tell Jacob, Amos, or any of the others. Elisabeth was another matter. She would not let him leave without telling her the truth about his condition. He hadn’t wanted to, but Amy hadn’t given up.
Elisabeth had taken to following her father around fearfully, constantly offering him chicory coffee and chicken soup, like these small comforts could keep leukemia at bay. Marlin tried his best not show how the extra attention bothered him. He kept busy packing and repacking tools and going over the ever-growing list of things the ranch could use.
“Amy!”
Amy was halfway back to her house when her sister’s cry interrupted her thoughts. She ran the rest of the distance in moments.
Her sister was out in front of their house, bending over her dad. He was on his knees, struggling to rise. His face was white behind the dark beard. His beard and lips were specked with red, and he struggled to breath.
“He just started coughing and went all weak,” Elisabeth said. “I saw him go down, and I ran out here.”
“Let’s get him inside,” Amy said after a moment’s deliberation. Marlin nodded his agreement. With one daughter under each arm, they helped him to his feet. Amy was shocked at how easy it was. She had always thought of him as a burly man, but the thin body under his overalls showed just how sick he was.
They got him inside and propped him up in his bed. Elisabeth brought him some warm broth. “Dr. Pritchard?” she asked.
Marlin started to shake his head no and began coughing again.
“Yes,” Amy said firmly.
Jacob came by later that afternoon. Dr. Pritchard had come to see Marlin and given him some herbs, mainly mint for his breathing. He had spoken quietly to Amy and Elisabeth in the kitchen. He left them a small bottle of valerian root tincture. It would ease Marlin’s pain. There was nothing else that could be done.
The herbs helped, and Marlin was sitting propped up in bed fingering the list he had made Amy bring him. Jacob sat stiffly at his bedside. Amy sat in the hall and listened.
“I’m sorry,” Marlin said as soon as Jacob entered.
“Good God, man,” Jacob replied. “You’re not the one who should be sorry, after all you have done for us. If there’s anything we can do . . .”
“There’s not,” Marlin muttered.
“I know,” Jacob sighed. “And, unfortunately, this couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Give me a few days,” Marlin breathed.
Damn him, Amy thought angrily. A few days and he’ll be . . . she broke off, not even wanting to think it. He’ll never be in shape to go, she finished to herself.
Jacob apparently had the same thought. “Not a chance, Marlin. Sorry, but we have no time for pleasant lies. You
Since she had discovered his condition, Amy was noticing all sorts of things. He held the pump steady with one hand, but his face showed a slight strain. That would be unremarkable in anyone else, as the pump weighed some thirty pounds. Her dad, however, was something of a legend at the ranch for his strength. He had been relieved of most of the farming and gardening duties because he was too hard on tools. Several of the stronger men had snapped spade handles working in the rocky soil of the valley. Marlin had snapped a blade.
She attached the wires, and the pump rumbled to life. Water shot out of its top. Amy shared a relieved look with her father. “Well, that’s one thing you won’t have to worry about while I’m gone,” he said as she killed the connection. “We’ll get Luke to help us put it back down later today.”
He wiped at his face, which was bright red. “I’ll take it up to the pump house,” she said, “you head home. Elisabeth will probably have lunch done by now.”
Marlin gave her a pained look. “Probably chicken noodle soup again,” he muttered. Amy returned a stern look.
She didn’t care what he did or did not tell Jacob, Amos, or any of the others. Elisabeth was another matter. She would not let him leave without telling her the truth about his condition. He hadn’t wanted to, but Amy hadn’t given up.
Elisabeth had taken to following her father around fearfully, constantly offering him chicory coffee and chicken soup, like these small comforts could keep leukemia at bay. Marlin tried his best not show how the extra attention bothered him. He kept busy packing and repacking tools and going over the ever-growing list of things the ranch could use.
“Amy!”
Amy was halfway back to her house when her sister’s cry interrupted her thoughts. She ran the rest of the distance in moments.
Her sister was out in front of their house, bending over her dad. He was on his knees, struggling to rise. His face was white behind the dark beard. His beard and lips were specked with red, and he struggled to breath.
“He just started coughing and went all weak,” Elisabeth said. “I saw him go down, and I ran out here.”
“Let’s get him inside,” Amy said after a moment’s deliberation. Marlin nodded his agreement. With one daughter under each arm, they helped him to his feet. Amy was shocked at how easy it was. She had always thought of him as a burly man, but the thin body under his overalls showed just how sick he was.
They got him inside and propped him up in his bed. Elisabeth brought him some warm broth. “Dr. Pritchard?” she asked.
Marlin started to shake his head no and began coughing again.
“Yes,” Amy said firmly.
Jacob came by later that afternoon. Dr. Pritchard had come to see Marlin and given him some herbs, mainly mint for his breathing. He had spoken quietly to Amy and Elisabeth in the kitchen. He left them a small bottle of valerian root tincture. It would ease Marlin’s pain. There was nothing else that could be done.
The herbs helped, and Marlin was sitting propped up in bed fingering the list he had made Amy bring him. Jacob sat stiffly at his bedside. Amy sat in the hall and listened.
“I’m sorry,” Marlin said as soon as Jacob entered.
“Good God, man,” Jacob replied. “You’re not the one who should be sorry, after all you have done for us. If there’s anything we can do . . .”
“There’s not,” Marlin muttered.
“I know,” Jacob sighed. “And, unfortunately, this couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Give me a few days,” Marlin breathed.
Damn him, Amy thought angrily. A few days and he’ll be . . . she broke off, not even wanting to think it. He’ll never be in shape to go, she finished to herself.
Jacob apparently had the same thought. “Not a chance, Marlin. Sorry, but we have no time for pleasant lies. You
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