Beside Two Rivers (12 page)

“It does not hurt to dream.”

“What do you dream of?”

Darcy plucked a long blade of grass and then tossed it away. “Me? Well, I dream of growing old beside the two rivers. As you see, my expectations are not too lofty. I will not be disappointed, unless I die young.”

Off in the distance, she spied her uncle strolling home and pointed him out to her cousin. A canvas bag hung from his belt, and his dog, Dash, strutted alongside him. He lifted his hand and waved. Darcy pulled Martha’s arm, and together they proceeded through the field at a quick pace to meet him.

Dash leapt in front of Mr. Breese, barked, then stood still with a whine. His master staggered forward, gripped his shoulder, and grimaced in pain. When he dropped to his knees, Darcy drew her arm out from Martha’s and ran. Martha cried out and followed.

“Uncle Will!”

“Papa!” Martha sprinted past Darcy.

He lifted his face. Fear flushed his skin and shown in his eyes. Then he moaned and fell onto his side. Martha shrieked and threw herself across his chest. “Uncle Will!” Darcy said, dropping beside him. She placed her hand on his cheek, tapping it with her fingers. She pressed her ear against his heart. “Wake, Uncle Will, open your eyes. Martha and I will take you home.” But he did not wake.

“It is no good.” Heavy with grief, Martha leaned her head against Darcy’s shoulder, weeping.

She pulled Martha forward by the shoulders. “He’s breathing and his heart is still beating.”

Martha’s eyes widened and she gripped Darcy. “Hurry home, Darcy. Tell Mama. Tell her to send help.”

Jumping to her feet, Darcy lifted her skirts and ran as swiftly as she could toward the house. Her heart pounded and her breath caught in her throat. How was she going to tell her aunt that Uncle Will lay dying in the meadow?

12

The Breese household was the quietest it had been in years. Mr. Breese lay in his four-poster bed upstairs. All the windows were open, and a soft, almost indistinguishable breeze shifted the curtains to and fro. Surrounded by his wife, daughters, and niece, he set his hand atop his dog’s head when Dash laid his paw on the bedside and whined.

Missy led a young physician through the door. He set his bag down at the foot of the bed. Dressed in black from his coat to his shoes, he posed a handsome man, with large brown eyes and hair as blonde as the wheat growing in the fields.

“How are you feeling, sir?” he inquired, leaning down to Mr. Breese.

“Everyone is making too much of a fuss. You may want to take my wife’s pulse, for she is very upset.”

He opened Mr. Breese’s shirt and listened to his heartbeat. “Your heart sounds strong and your pulse regular.” He straightened up and looked at Mrs. Breese. “Who found him, madam?”

“My daughter Martha, Dr. Emerson.” Mrs. Breese extended her hand over to Martha’s and lifted it within hers. “And my niece, Darcy. They are good girls, sir, and did all that they could and should do. Darcy ran home for help while Martha stayed with her poor papa. Together with Missy they were able to help my husband home.”

It did not escape Darcy’s eyes the way Emerson turned his to Martha—a controlled gaze that showed simmering admiration. He turned to Mrs. Breese. “Your husband has suffered a heart seizure, ma’am.”

With a cry, Mrs. Breese thrust her handkerchief against her mouth. Then she waved the handkerchief as if to chase the bad news away. “He is to die, I know it.”

“No, ma’am. He will not die. But he will need plenty of rest, strong broths, and fresh air. I’m afraid to say he will need to stop working for a time. Nothing strenuous. No exertion. He can no longer venture out alone.”

“But his livelihood is partly our bread and butter, sir. And he loves it so dearly.”

“I’m sorry. No exertion, ma’am.”

“Oh, surely, Doctor, a little water coloring in my portfolio is no harm to me,” Mr. Breese said.

“I want you to stay in bed a full week, sir. Then gradually you may do a little work, but again, nothing taxing.”

Mrs. Breese slapped her hands on her knees. “Oh, what shall become of us now? We have a small annuity from my father’s estate, but it is not enough to keep us all.”

“Aunt,” Darcy said. “You mustn’t think about that now. What is important is Uncle Will’s health.”

Her aunt shook her head. “It is of the utmost importance, indeed. But we shall have to eat fish from the river the rest of our lives. Washington College commissioned the work, Dr. Emerson, and will not accept an incomplete folio.”

Darcy knelt beside her. “We shall write to Dr. Ferguson at the college and inform him of Uncle Will’s condition.”

“Oh, no, Darcy. It’d be best to delay,” insisted her aunt.

“Well, a few weeks to recover will not set him back. He is nearly finished. Later, when he feels strong enough, he can complete it.” She looked over at Dr. Emerson for confirmation. “Uncle Will has been collecting flora along the river, sir. He is cataloging them, you see. The work is not difficult.”

“In time he can resume his work, as I said. As far as hiking the countryside in search of specimens, he cannot for some time,” said Emerson. “No lifting or laboring in the garden.”

“We can do any chore Papa needs us to,” Rachel said. “That way he will recover quickly. I’m right, aren’t I?” A broad smile broke across her face, and she looked over to Darcy. It seemed all the girls depended on Darcy to affirm their hopes.

“I believe you are, Rachel,” she replied.

Mrs. Breese huffed. “You are too optimistic, the pair of you. I’ve seen this kind of
thing happen before. My father had a stroke, and we suffered for it. How shall I feed all these mouths now?”

“We shall get by,” Lizzy assured her mother.

“Papa will get well, Mama,” said Abby.

“You will, won’t you, Papa?” Dolley said, kissing her father’s cheek.

“I assure you all, I will.” Mr. Breese smiled and then shut his eyes. “I have enjoyed the quiet, I must say.”

Her aunt arched her brows. “Darcy will need to go to England for certain now. Perhaps your dear grandmamma will help us, Darcy, for I have no doubt she is well off. Your uncle is her son after all.”

“Mari, I insist you stop fretting at once.” Mr. Breese’s tone arrested everyone in the room, including Darcy. She had never before heard him speak to her aunt with such firmness. She looked over at her with concern, for she had all of a sudden gone silent and still, and her face was awash with color.

“I have enough money for you and the girls to continue as things were. You are not to even suggest that Darcy ask my mother for money. And I am not going to die—at least not anytime soon. And when I do, I will thank the Lord for the peace and quiet.”

Tears moistened Mrs. Breese’s eyes and she set her mouth firm. “All right, my dear. As you say.”

With her husband in need of peace and quiet, as well as sleep, Mrs. Breese ushered her daughters and Darcy out of the room. After a brief word with his patient, Dr. Emerson stepped out, closed the door, and met Darcy and Martha in the sitting room. Darcy did not say she was worried over her uncle’s situation, but as she tidied up the room, she paused to see that eyes were upon her. Martha stood beside Dr. Emerson, and Darcy wished she could say out loud how fine they looked together.

“It would not be wise to travel alone, Miss Darcy, if that is indeed your course,” Dr. Emerson said. “I know a gentleman, a colleague of mine, who is leaving for London with his young wife on business. It would be well for you to journey with them. I’m sure his wife would appreciate the company.”

It was happening all too fast. Her mind and her heart churned like the rapids in her river, tumbling with a sudden anxiety of leaving home and the people she loved. And there was the risk that she would meet up with that insufferable Englishman who had tossed her heart to the wind as if it were chaff. She sat still a moment, with her throat tightening, staring at the floor.

“Thank you, sir. It would be a comfort to my aunt if I had someone to travel with, especially someone you know.”

“I shall write to them today and help make the arrangements for you to meet them in Annapolis. Dr. Prestwich is a prominent surgeon there, and his wife, Ann, is very pleasant.”

“I look forward to meeting them, sir.” She curtsied to him, and then when Martha glanced toward the door, Darcy knew to leave the couple alone. She went back into the hallway, heard her aunt fussing out in the kitchen, and sighed deeply. Missy peeked down from the top of the staircase. Her uncle wished to speak to her.

“Do not allow this situation to stop you, Darcy,” he said. “I do not want you to worry. I am feeling better already.”

“You will take good care of yourself and follow the doctor’s instructions?”

“I promise I shall.”

“Well, you shall be happy to know that Dr. Emerson has recommended a very nice lady in need of a traveling companion, and he thinks I am just the person. She and her husband are sailing for England in a few days. He is a respected surgeon.”

She shifted from her chair to his bedside, lifting his hand in hers. “But how can I leave you now?”

“Must you stay with us until we are in our graves? Are you not entitled to a life of your own? Your grandmother shall not live long, so go to her. I shall have a letter for you to give her. I want you to tell her that I have always loved her, and have prayed for her each day since we parted. If she would leave Havendale and come back with you, I would welcome her to live with us. You go ahead and have your adventure. I have the girls to look after me.”

“Are those the only reasons you have to persuade me?”

“You need to find whatever it is God is leading you to, knowing where your roots began and where they must end. From the first moment I saw your curly head at my doorstep, I saw something in you that I rarely had seen in a child your age. You take everything in as if it were a gift. It would be wrong to keep you here.”

Darcy kissed his cheek, and when her uncle had fallen back to sleep, she stepped outside his room and went downstairs. Martha and Dr. Emerson had not been afforded much time together. Darcy’s aunt stood beside Martha with her arm around her, looking out the sitting room window. Dr. Emerson mounted his horse, and after he tipped his hat, he made for the main road.

“It is now a certainty, our income is affected.” Her aunt spoke in a low but trembling voice, twisting a handkerchief between her hands. “It is enough to keep a roof over our heads for some time, I think, but we shall be reduced to a very low condition if your uncle does not continue his work.”

Darcy pressed her lips together and said, “I have faith he shall recover. In this we must be patient, and depend on Dr. Emerson’s skill and God’s goodness.”

Her aunt lowered herself onto the settee. “But if he does not, we shall be forced to live in a small dwelling among the working class. And that is what we shall become—working class.”

Martha picked up her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “You must have more faith than that, Mama. You will not have to leave your home.”

Mari Breese wiped her nose. “Oh, I think I shall. There is little guarantee of anything for me to rely on.”

Darcy gazed into her aunt’s gaunt face. Worry moved within Mari’s expression. There seemed no means to comfort her and waylay her growing anxiety. “Of course there is, Aunt. Remember,
I shall not leave thee, nor forsake thee
”?

“I indeed remember it. And you are good to remind me. I need to put my trust in the Lord and not worry so much. But it is hard for me, Darcy.”

“You have your children.”

“Yes, and I must release you to your grandmother. You may become so dear to her that when she dies, or perhaps before that, she will provide money that you may send home. I know it is selfish of me to say, but it is a possibility—and if not for us, then for you.”

Darcy sighed. “You’ve worried over me all these years, and now you are settled that I go to England to people who are strangers to me?”

“Not all strangers. Indeed not. There is Mr. Brennan and Miss Roth. They live in the same county as your grandmother. When they hear of your arrival, they will call upon you, and that way you shall be introduced to other families in the area, and have no lack of acquaintances. The English love balls and gatherings, you know. You shall make many friends. Oh, I do envy you in some ways.”

The mention of Ethan, his face coming up in her mind, caused her heart to ache. “It does not matter whether I see Mr. Brennan or Miss Roth. We were not friends when they left.” She stood and walked over to the window. “I should like to see the house my father was born in, and the land of my ancestors. I should like to see my grandfather’s vicarage where my mother grew up, and the church where he preached.”

“That is a grand attitude, Darcy. I shall write to Dr. Emerson’s friends right away. He told me of his suggestion.” She stood and went to her writing desk, rummaging through the middle drawer for paper.

A gentle smile tugged at Darcy’s mouth. She stepped from the room, and donning her broad-rimmed hat, headed for the path beside the house that led down to the river. Over roots and stones she went, pausing to pick up pebbles that caught her eye. She placed five smooth stones in her pocket to take on her journey as reminders that she could slay any obstacle that would rise up against her.