Letters and Love

Chapter Thirteen: Elizabeth

Summer was supposed to be bright and cheerful, my favorite time of year. Instead, despite the sun and heat, everything seemed gloomy to me. The only thing that suited my tumultuous mood was the storms that popped up frequently.

Blast Noah Coleman! I couldn't get his last letter from my mind. Why hadn't he told me the truth about his past from the start? How had he thought it was acceptable to keep such important information from me? Why hadn't I thought to ask him where he'd lived before he went west?
Because it had never crossed my mind that I might be corresponding with someone who had been born and raised in the South. Why would it? And now that I did know...

Standing by the window, I shook my head. How was I supposed to feel? It felt like a betrayal of sorts. I didn't know what to think. Could I trust him after he'd kept such an important thing secret? Had I been too eager to escape Angelica that I hadn't been careful enough?

Had I trusted too much, too soon?

My shoulders sagged as I looked over to where Mother slept fitfully. Why was I wasting time thinking about Noah when my mother needed my attention? She'd had a terrible night, coughing fits interrupting sleep. With every breath, her chest rattled in a way that made my heart wrench. Her face was so pale against the pillow.

Once upon a time, I would have poured out my worries to her. But how could I do that now? She thought all was well, and the truth would only distress her. This was something I would have to work through without her advice.

A light tap on the door caught my attention. I twisted around as the door opened and Molly stepped in. "Is it a bad time?" she asked in a whisper.

"She's sleeping for now," I responded, moving to join her. Behind Molly was Mrs. Parker. "She's not doing well."

Those words seemed like such an understatement. Dr. Peters had made it clear that Mother was dying. It was only a matter of when it would happen.

"I will sit with her for a time," Mrs. Parker said, putting her hand on my arm. Her expression was compassionate and nearly made me cry. "You look done in, you poor girl. Go sit down somewhere. Have some tea. If anything should happen, I will call for you."

All I could manage was a nod. I'd been away for nearly eighteen hours, only nodding off for a few brief moments during the night. Molly linked her arm with mine and guided me out of the room. She took me down to the parlor, sat me down, and then rang for the maid. As she was asking Susan to bring tea, Angelica appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, there you are, Elizabeth," my sister-in-law said, her tone sweet. "I didn't think I would see you outside of Mother Garrison's room today. You were so determined she needed you with her."

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back. Why did she make that sound like a crime? I did not have the energy to spar verbally with her. "Mrs. Parker was kind enough to sit with Mother for a little while so I could rest," I informed her.

"Rest? It seems every time I peek in you are sitting," Angelica responded, her tone surprised. "Well, while you are down here, there is some mending that I simply have not had time to handle. I'm sure you won't mind doing it? You are so good at sewing and making such tiny stitches."

"Not right now, Angelica." I was so tired. Couldn't she see that? Why did I always have to be doing something for her? "Can it wait? I'm going to talk to Molly for a while and have some tea."

"Oh, you know what they say. Idle hands are the Devil's playthings. I'm sure you can sew and talk at the same time. Ladies do it all the time."

I opened my eyes to glare at her. "Mrs. Garrison, have you ever cared for someone who was dying?" Molly asked before I could speak. That was probably a good thing. My friend came to stand by me. I still flinched at her blunt question, but she didn't notice because she was staring at the other woman.