“You don’t know how fast they move,” Papa muttered. He looked utterly hollowed out, just a shell of my father.
“But you do,” Whitaker said. “We’ll know what to expect. Together we’ll be able to handle them.”
Papa laughed, though there was no joy in it. “I’m damned if I go and damned if I stay. How am I to make such a choice?” He pushed himself over to the edge of the bed, reaching out to take Mama’s hand, but stopped himself in time. “Sarah, I don’t know what to do. I wish you could help me decide.” He buried his sobs into the bedding.
I knelt, pressing my side against his. The honey’s warm sweetness nearly masked the stench of burnt flesh and singed hair radiating off Mama.
“Papa,” I said softly, keeping my voice low so only he could hear me. “Do you remember what you told me about the bees and the hive? How the actions of one affect the whole?”
After a long moment, he nodded.
“And how even when it feels impossible, we need to honor our commitments to each other, for the good of all?”
Another nod.
“We need you. Both of you,” I said with emphasis. “We need to get Mama out of the Falls.”
“We?” he repeated, uncomprehending.
“All of us. We’re all going. Sam and Merry, Sadie and I. We’ll all be together.”
He shook his head. “No. We can’t leave the bees. Not for that long.” He sat up, and I could see the plan forming in his eyes. When he looked at Whitaker, they were clear and focused. “I’d be in your debt.”
Whitaker held out his hand, helping Papa to his feet. “I…I don’t want to rush anything, but it might be best to start the journey with the sun in our favor?”
Pink rays of morning stained the sky. The flower fields, so lush and verdant only the day before, were now smoldering heaps of ash. Papa’s mouth twitched. He hated rushing into decisions and would often stew throughout the night, making scribbled lists to weigh the good and bad before resolutely making up his mind.
“Doc—is she all right to move now?”
Dr. Ambrose fidgeted with a corner of the sheet. “As good as she’ll ever be. You’ll want to take more of these bandages—and the honey. And take this,” he said, pulling a small glass bottle out from his bag. Its paper label had “Chloroform” written in spidery script. “If she starts to stir before you make it to the city, wet a handkerchief with a bit of this and hold it to her nose. It will keep her sedated and she won’t feel any of the pain.”
Papa took it. “How much do I owe you?”
He waved Papa off. “Pay me when you get back. There’s no rush at all, Gideon. I know you’re good for it.”
They shook hands, and the doctor slipped from the room. I wasn’t sure if I imagined hearing his sigh of relief.
“We’ll take the cart,” Papa decided, then frowned. “But I hate to leave you without either of the horses.”
“Take them both. You’ll travel faster.”
He turned to Whitaker. “How much time you reckon this shortcut will save us?”
“I’d guess we can shave a day or two off the trip, sir.”
It normally took a week to get through the pass.
“I’ll start packing supplies,” I offered. “And Merry and Sadie can fill the wagon with fresh hay. We’ll spread a quilt over it. Might make it a little more comfortable for Mama.”
Papa reached out and cupped my chin. “Thank you, Ellerie.” After one wavering look at Mama, he was out of the bedroom in two strides, bringing Whitaker with him, ready for action. “The map is in the sitting room.”
Their voices faded deeper into the house. I knew I should start to prepare for their journey, but I lingered at Mama’s side, unwilling to let her out of my sight, even for a moment. When would I see her next? What if something happened to her—or Papa—or both of them—while they were away?
What if—
Hot tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks, just when I’d thought I’d cried every last one out.
“Ellerie?” Merry asked, poking her head in. Sadie was at her heels, her eyes wide with worry and fear. “Is it okay to come in now?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, brushing at my eyes to dry them.
Merry had occupied Sadie while Dr. Ambrose had worked. Though their nightdresses were covered in dirt and soot, they’d cleaned their faces and hands, scrubbing the skin raw and pink.
“Is she sleeping?” Sadie whispered as she tiptoed in. I was glad the worst of Mama’s burns were covered beneath the sheet.
“It’s kind of like that,” I said, and pulled her into my lap. She hadn’t let me hold her like this in months, and I expected a protest. Instead she pressed her back to me, snuggling in close. “Dr. Ambrose said it’s her way of trying to heal. She needs lots of rest.”
“Papa and Whitaker are looking at maps,” Merry said. She never missed anything.
“They’re taking Mama to the city. She needs more medicine than we have here.”
“But I don’t want Papa to go!” Sadie said, her voice cracking. “What if the fire comes back? Who will protect us?”
A sob worked its way up my throat, and it took every bit of effort I had left to swallow it. I so badly wanted to dissolve into tears, to cry like the little girl I felt I was, but what good would that do? I had to stay strong in front of them. “Sam and I will watch over you. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. For right now, we have to be very brave. For Papa.”
“And Mama,” Sadie added.
“And Mama,” I agreed, pressing my lips to her hair. It was ash gray and reeked of smoke. But somewhere, beneath all that, I could still smell my little sister. “There’s much we need to do before they can leave. Will you help me?”
They nodded, and with a final look at Mama, we left.
* * *
“I think that’s the last of it,” Whitaker said, pushing the final sack into place before hoisting himself onto the seat of the wagon.
The sun rose over the mountains, spilling golden light across the valley. The air was alive with songbirds, chirping and singing to greet the dawn. Other than the smoke still rising from the ruined fields—and the small, motionless figure carefully nestled in the back of the cart—it could have been the start to any other morning.
“I just need…I think I left behind…I just need a moment,” Papa muttered, ducking off toward the hives.