Emma's Gift Read Free

over a mile by the road. I was glad I’d sent our quilts back with them.
    Wilametta gave out another moan and suddenly opened her eyes. “Emma Jean,” she whispered. “You come to see me?”
    â€œI sure did.” Emma turned to me. “Juli, get some drinkin’ water. Those herbs ready yet?”
    â€œNot yet.” I got up and ran for the water bucket, nearly tripping over the broom somebody’d left on the floor. It didn’t seem possible that it’d been used lately.
    Wilametta drank a sip and closed her eyes. “Tell Lizbeth to fix you some tea,” she said, all dreamy-like. “Ain’t got a cookie in the house.”
    â€œYou shush,” Emma told her. “We ain’t here to be pampered, now. You hurtin’ anywhere?”
    Wila looked around. “It’s kinda quiet.”
    â€œYup. Good’n peaceful. Lay still a minute.” Emma laid her head against Wilametta’s chest, listening, and then raised up and asked her again how she was feeling.
    â€œTired. You know. I’ll be all right.”
    â€œThat’s what we’re countin’ on.” Emma lifted the water and got Wila to take another sip.
    â€œI’m gonna see that the cows got water,” George said suddenly and rose from his seat.
    â€œGot wood enough in?” Emma asked.
    â€œNo,” I told them both, though I hated giving George another chore. It seemed to me that he ought to stay right here. But he wasn’t minded in that direction.
    It wasn’t but a few minutes more and the red raspberry tea and root tonic water were ready. I carried them in, though I wasn’t completely sure what Emma was going to do with either one.
    She was rubbing at Wila’s other arm when I came back in. She stopped to bathe the woman’s face with the wet cloth. Wilametta looked to be asleep again, so soon.
    â€œShe doing any better?”
    Emma shook her head. “I promised Lizbeth she’d be all right. How long you suppose it’ll take the doctor, comin’ from Belle Rive?”
    â€œOh, Emma, I don’t know. It’ll be a good while, the way it’s snowing.” Her question was a real worry. Sam Hammond had only just left with the kids. Surely she knew it’d be a considerable time before he even got to the doctor.
    Wila coughed and seemed to sputter a little. “Emma Jean?”
    Emma took her hand, massaging it carefully.
    â€œMy heart’s a-flutterin’, ain’t it?” She sounded quiet, far away, like she was talking to us from the next room.
    â€œIt may be that,” Emma said. “Does seem to be off a rhythm.”
    I set the herbs down on the bedside table, scooting Wila’s Bible over to make a space. Emma picked up the raspberry tea, poured some of the dandelion root into it, and offered Wila a sip.
    â€œI can’t feel my toes at all,” Wila said.
    I felt the breath slide right out of me. But Emma answered calmly. “Don’t worry about it. They’s still there.”
    She turned to me and told me to rub Wila’s legs some, not too hard. I sat on the bed and did what I was told.
    Emma coaxed another sip of the tea into Wila. “Just think, Wilametta,” she said. “Coming up this May, little Emma Grace’ll be a whole year old.”
    â€œI dreamed she was gonna sing pretty as a bird,” Wila said. “Her and Rorey too. I always did want my daughters to sing. They need more’n what we’ve had. You know?”
    â€œI know,” Emma said quietly. “I been prayin’ on that very thing.”
    â€œOh, thank you. Thank you so much.” Wila was losing her pinkness, instead looking pale and yellow and slick with sweat. “Will you sing me a hymn? Will you do that?”
    Emma turned to me, and I saw that she was sweating too, cool as it was. And there was something in her eyes I’d never seen there before. “Please sing, Juli,” she