Page 12 of Mail-Order Bride Secret
Her arms tightened around Jonathan. She would not let anyone take him from her.
Wally returnedto his bed but for a long time, he lay awake, praying for Madeline. He understood that her husband’s death had affected her deeply. She might never be able to love again but he prayed she’d learn to enjoy life with him. One way to move them all in that direction would be for him to take care of their physical needs. He’d get up early and make breakfast. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook. Had been doing it often for the Shannon boys before they married. And then an outing with the twins to see Scamp and meet the others would be good for them. And give Madeline a break. He’d take Jonathan and walk around the house with him so Madeline could rest but the little guy would have to get used to him first.
His plans made, he fell asleep.
The sky outside his window was still dark when he jerked awake to a sharp noise. Jonathan crying again.He pulled on his trousers and went to the kitchen to stir the fire in the stove and set another towel to heat.
“I’ll warm oil,” he called softly at Madeline’s door.
She hurried from the room, her hair tousled as if she’d tossed and turned for many hours. Dark shadows hung under her eyes.
Jonathan’s blond hair was damp and sticking straight up.
Wally almost smiled at the wild hairdo, but amusement fled at the bright fever spots on the baby’s cheeks.
“Has he slept at all?”
“A bit. But he’s been growing steadily worse. I don’t know what to do.”
What would Mrs. Shannon do? The boys were no longer infants when he joined the family, but he remembered a time she’d been very ill and a woman traveling with them had tended her. Seems she’d had some medicinals she made into a tea. But what were they and how did one give it to a baby? The other thing she’d done was try to lower Mrs. Shannon’s body temperature. He could do that.
“I believe we need to get his fever down.”
She nodded. The movement put her off balance. He caught her by the arm and guided her to a chair.
“You’re exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I might be a little tired. It was a long journey with three children to watch over.”
“I wish I could take the boy, but I fear he would object.”
“Yes, he would.” Even her words were weary.
“You hold him while I get water and things.” A few minutes later, he set a basin of warm water on the table, spread a towel, and handed her a washcloth.
She had removed Jonathan’s shirt and began sponging him, gentle touches of love and concern.
“You’ll feel better soon. You’re in a safe place now where you can rest and relax.” Wally hovered nearby, offering soft words of encouragement though he couldn’t say for certain if he meant them for Jonathan or Madeline. He acknowledged it was for them both even if what he said was more appropriate for the little one.
Madeline sank to the chair and brushed a hand over her brow obviously exhausted.
Wally stepped in, took the cloth from her, and proceeded to sponge Jonathan.
The little guy watched him with fever-bright eyes, too sick to even protest.
As he continued his ministrations, Wally murmured a steady stream of soft words, telling Jonathan about Scamp and the horses, the cows and the cowboys, the others on the ranch.
Jonathan’s eyelids lowered, his breathing deepened. Wally’s hand stilled.
“He’s fallen asleep,” he whispered.
Madeline’s eyes widened and she blinked as if the words didn’t register.
Wally slipped Jonathan’s arms into a little nightgown and tied the strings at his neck. He picked up the baby who nuzzled against him. Wally closed his eyes and let the sensation fill his being.
