Heart of the Sandhills by Stephanie Grace Whitson Page B

tell me the rose story?”
    Hope hopped down and went to the corner of the garden. Stepping carefully over the rock border, she smoothed her pink calico dress and took on the role of instructor and center of attention. She gestured dramatically toward the smallest rose bush in the L-shaped flowerbed. “This one’s for your Mama named Ellen, the one I didn’t know. It’s red ‘cause that was her favorite. I got her name in the middle and that’s why I’m Hope Ellen .” She pointed to another bush with red blossoms. “And this one is for Papa Simon Dane. And all the pink ones are for you an’ me and Aaron,” Hope said, twirling around as she spoke.
    “That’s right,” Meg said. She took a deep breath, wishing her stomach would settle. “Do you remember helping us put the rocks around the edge?”
    “I was too little,” Hope protested, shaking her head.
    Meg agreed. “You could hardly talk at all. And you carried off more rocks than you put in place.” She smiled weakly. “When we see Gen, you’ll be able to tell her how big her white rosebush is, and how every time we see it we think of her.”
    “Why don’t we have a rosebush for Daniel?” Hope asked abruptly.
    “Because we made this rose garden to remember our family,” Meg explained for the hundredth time. ‘And when we planted the bushes we thought our friend Daniel was dead.”
    “He’s the one that founded me,” Hope said as she fingered a pink rose.
    “He did,” Meg replied.
    “Tell me,” Hope said.
    “I’ll tell you when we’re on the train,” Meg said. She stood up abruptly. “I’m going to go lie down.” Suddenly, she covered her mouth with her hand and ran for the house.

    Elliot Leighton and Aaron Dane stood, carpetbags in hand, staring in disbelief at the sign on Leighton Hall’s front door.
    QUARANTINE. MEASLES.
    “ Measles? ” Aaron could barely pronounce the dreaded word. He knew all about measles. The disease had struck an Indian village near the mission when he was a little boy. He could still hear the women keening their losses as tepee after tepee were emptied of their dead.
    Before Elliot could say anything, Jane appeared at the parlor window. She opened the window, but when Elliot stepped for-ward she waved him away. “Stay back, dear. We can’t take any chances.” She took a deep breath. “It’s Meg. Only Meg for now, thank God. But we aren’t allowed out of the house. Dr. Voss’s assistant has been delivering food every day.” Jane laughed sadly. “I thought cabin fever was only something we experienced in the West when the snow piled up.” She forced a smile. “But it appears even mansions can breed cases of cabin fever. We’re rather at one another from time to time.” She passed a trembling hand over her forehead and blinked back tears.
    “What about Meg?”
    “Oh, I don’t know,” Jane said miserably. “Her fever has come down a bit and Dr. Voss says that’s a hopeful sign, but—” her voice cracked, “she’s very ill. We just don’t know.”
    “We?” Elliot asked. “Who exactly is we?”
    “Hope, Betsy, Mother Leighton, and I. That’s all. Cook was on holiday when Meg got sick.”
    “So you and Betsy are caring for the entire household as well as nursing Meg around the clock?” Elliot frowned.
    “Oh, we’re all right,” Jane protested. When she looked at Elliot, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so glad you’re home.” She wiped the tears away and sighed. “You’ll have to put up at the hotel. We can’t let you in. I seem to have some natural immunity to measles. Dr. Voss was quite amazed when I told him I’d nursed many patients back in my mission days.” She forced another smile. “So you see you don’t have to worry over me. And I really do think the worst is over. If we can just keep Mother Leighton and Betsy and Hope from catching it—” Jane sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m making them stay in their rooms. Hope wanders from one to the other. They all