Lily looked up to the second landing. Was Elias awake? How would she tell him about his friend?
She asked Charlie to sit with the brother while she went upstairs to check on her husband. She would make them something to eat when she returned.
She had to stop once before she reached the top. She felt overwhelmed, on the brink of hysterics at any moment. She didn’t want to tell him, but what if he was well enough to come belowstairs and see and speak to his friend for the last time?
She continued up and went to her bed. She was hoping to see his eyes opened, him smiling, everything all right.
“Elias, my love.” She leaned down and touched his face. He was burning up with fever. No! She put her hands to her temples. She wanted to scream and cry and never stop. Did he make himself worse by getting out of bed during the night?
“Elias?” She gave him a little shake but he did not stir.
Panicked, she hurried down the stairs to prepare his tea and something for his fever. She’d had hope for him. He was a fighter. He held her last night. He fired her hope, but today…oh, today…they might lose Brother Simon. She couldn’t lose Elias, too. She prayed and did her best to reassure the children that everything would be all right, but she didn’t believe it. How could it be? Richard was gone. A future without him in it frightened her. She’d lost all her friends, Alice, Joan, Deirdre, Agnes, Ivett, and Clare. And the poor children, Cecily and Lizbeth. Who would be next?
“Are they both going to die, Lily?” Charlie asked her quietly. “Because if they do…” he paused again, his dark hair falling over bloodshot eyes. “I will take care of you and Annabelle, and little Eddie.”
“Charlie,” she managed, though she wasn’t sure how she did without a tear. She had to be strong for them. “That is not your concern. I have the shop and, well, they will not both die.”
He gave her a look like she was only saying it for his benefit, like she didn’t truly believe it.
Because she didn’t.
“Here,” she said, handing him a cup. “Go and feed this tea to Brother Simon. Annabelle,” she called, beckoning the girl to her. “Dab this cloth on Brother Simon’s head.”
“It smells!” Annabelle scrunched up her face and held the cloth away from herself as she went to her task.
Lily finished preparing Elias’ tea and then carried it up to him.
Wiping a rogue tear from her eye, she set down the tea on a nearby table, then lifted his head and shoulders and put them in her lap as she sat behind him on the bed.
“Elias, my love,” she said softly, then a bit more firmly. She gave him a little shake until he opened his eyes. “There now, Husband. Drink this. Careful, ‘tis hot.”
She reached for the cup and held it to his lips. “Drink a little, Elias. Your fever needs to come down. Drink, my love.”
He sipped some. She coaxed him to drink more, holding him in one arm, her head bent to his. “I will not let you go, Elias MacPherson. Not until you return to me.”
#
“Eli?”
Elias turned to Simon and smiled. He didn’t look around at his surroundings. He didn’t care where he was. Simon was here and his friend had something to tell him. Something important.
He put is hands on Elias’ forearms and looked up into his eyes. “Eli, I have to go.”
He had never left. He had been in Elias’ life for as long as Eli could remember. He would always be there. Would he not? “When are ye comin’ back?”
Simon shook his head. His soulful gaze warmed. “Tis time for me to go on home.”
“I will go with ye, as ye always went with me,” Elias told him and took a step forward.
“Lily is a fine wife. You chose well. She is very much in love with you.”
Elias turned and looked behind him. “Lily,” he said in a soft whisper. His heart pulled him back. He wanted more time with her. More nights, more mornings with her. He wanted to be with her to help her get through this life.
But Simon.
“Eli,” his best friend said, his voice, so good and familiar to Elias’ ears. He didn’t want to stop hearing it. “Tell Lily that tears are water for her roots and will make her stronger, not weaker.
“As for you, I have loved you like a little brother and a son and I like to think I had some good in how well you turned out.”