How is her back?
Very messed up. She’s lifting too much weight again. It’s an ongoing battle I have with her. I don’t know how to stop her.
“You’re going to make me cry at your wonderful generosity, Mama Patricia. No one has ever been so kind to me. Growing up the way I did, everything was about duty. I suppose you know a lot about that, don’t you? But you, at least, had the love of family to surround you and learn from.”
“I did,” Patricia said, squeezing her hand and reluctantly letting go. “Life could be hard here at times. We all had to work when it got tough, but we loved one another and that was felt. My husband was a good man. A really good man. Building this house was a big priority to him. He was so good with wood. You can see Edward takes after him.”
She rubbed her palm lovingly along the carved bed frame. It wasn’t intricate, but it was lovely. “My Matt was such a good man. He would come home at night after working all day and insist I sit and listen to the wind in the trees while he served dinner. I always made sure to have it ready or he would have insisted on cooking it. He said women aged too fast and died here. He was terrified whenever I got pregnant that I would die in childbirth.”
My sister Mary died in childbirth. She was Matt’s first wife. Their oldest son, Nick, is Mary’s child. Patricia raised him like her own. Matt didn’t like Patricia to get pregnant, but back then, there wasn’t a lot about birth control here.
There was no bitterness in Rubin. He genuinely cared for Patricia and thought of her as family.
Jonquille nodded her head. “He sounds like an amazing man, Mama Patricia. You must miss him so much. I’m very certain he wouldn’t be happy with all the heavy lifting you’re doing though. I can see it’s really hurting your body. Our spines have cushions called disks sitting between each of our vertebrae so they don’t scrape against each other. That’s all up and down your spinal cord, right? As we age, those cushions can start to dry out. If you put too much stress on your back, a disk can tear or break. The more weight you pick up, the more work you do, the more disks can rupture. That can cause your arms and legs to really hurt. Or they can feel numb or tingle.”
Patricia’s eyes went wide with shock. “Really? That happens to me all the time now, especially in my hands. It’s from my back, you think?”
“Most likely. You have to take better care of yourself. You have two sons at home with you now. I know you’re used to doing the work yourself, but you have to let them do it for you. One day, they’ll find women of their own, right? Isn’t that your hope for them? You want them to be men like your husband, looking out for their women the way he looked out for you. If you’re always doing everything, they won’t even notice the chores that are difficult.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Patricia mused. “I do want them to be like their father. You’re right, Jonquille. I’ll have to do better about giving them the opportunity to do for me. I don’t even ask them.”
Rubin straightened slowly. Jonquille noted he looked a little pale. He stepped back from the bed and reached behind him to find the one chair Patricia had in the room. He sat down rather fast, almost as if his legs couldn’t hold him up.
Jonquille smiled down at their patient. “I’m going to grab some water. You need to just rest for a couple of minutes. Would you like something cool to drink?”
“No, I’m fine,” Patricia said. “I don’t know why I’m always tired after Rubin does his natural healing on me, but sometimes, I feel like I can’t move for a little while.”
Jonquille glanced at Rubin for reassurance. He nodded at her.
“That’s very normal,” Jonquille comforted her. She hurried down the hall to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. It was definitely spring water. She brought it back to Rubin.
He took the glass with a faint smile. Thanks. Always remember, using any gift, especially healing, takes energy out of you. You’ll need to rest after. If you’re in a combat situation and you’re attempting to save someone, you have to reserve enough strength to get yourself and whoever you’re working on to safety.
She knew he was speaking from experience. She really admired him. She wondered how often he’d gone into combat and pulled soldiers out of dangerous situations to save their lives at the risk of his own. What did she do? Hide away from people in order to keep from attracting lightning to them. She couldn’t even use her healing skills on them. This had been one of the few times she had been able to even try, and that was all because of Rubin. He’d drawn all energy away from her, giving her the opportunity.
Don’t look so sad, Jonquille. We’re going to have a good evening. You’ll like her sons, and the food will be fantastic. We’ll sort things out.
They would have a good evening. She knew they would. She lived life in the moment. She’d learned to do that. More than anything she would enjoy every second she had with Rubin. He was such a good man. Tonight, she would be grateful he was hers. They would settle into a routine at the cabin. Rubin would take first watch. Diego second and her last. When it was her turn, she would go hunting. She would find the threat to Rubin and hopefully eliminate them before they could find him. He was too good a man for anyone to harm. But she was taking this night to laugh and talk and pretend she was normal.
Edward Sawyer was a good-looking mountain man with a dark beard, wide shoulders and a ready smile. He had an easy, relaxed way about him, although Jonquille wasn’t the least bit fooled into thinking that meant he wasn’t alert. His gaze constantly shifted to the terrain around the house, quartering each segment of land as he teased his mother while he competed with Diego for eating the most food.
Rory Sawyer was much more subdued, but very polite. He was quieter than his brother and no less watchful, also checking on their surroundings, and he would get up often and go through the back of the house to check on that side of the property. He made regular visits to the chicken coop to make certain the chickens were locked up so that any fox or skunk wasn’t able to get to them. Twice, Rubin had gone with him. Jonquille was certain it was to talk about Patricia’s need to take things easier.
The food was delicious, just as the Campo brothers had said it would be. Patricia could have made top dollar cooking for one of the restaurants springing up for tourists. Surprisingly, it was Diego and Edward who gathered the dishes and took them inside to wash before returning to the porch for evening conversation and drinks.
This time the cider had a little kick to it. Jonquille was startled by the slight, unexpected hint of fermented apple and pear. The cider was smooth and spicy, refreshing and delicious. It was also extremely dangerous in that one could easily drink several glasses of it without realizing it was actually an alcoholic beverage.
She smiled at Rubin. “I’m definitely not drinking more than one of these. Okay, maybe two.”
Patricia laughed. “They sneak up on you.”
“Not like Luther’s alcohol. His is fiery smooth,” Edward said. “Everyone wants his, but you know you’re drinking it.”
“I thought he made illegal moonshine. Isn’t that really crude and will burn your stomach lining and all the rest of you as well?” Jonquille asked.