"Father, you're not drinking the tea."

"This tastes worse than the mud in the road after haying season when all the horses and oxen have been trodding up and down it." Father's face puckered after another minuscule sip.

" 'Tis one of Tessa's brews that saved your life, you stubborn old man." Thank God for Tessa and her herbs. "You had better do what she says, because I need you alive and well, just as my brothers do."

"Have you tasted this brew?" Sparkles of humor and downright willfulness flicked in the corner of his mouth.

"Nay, although I've heard you describe it in great detail." Wryly, Jonah reached out and caught the cup before Father could upturn it into the hearth.

"Boy, if you value my life, let me accidentally spill this horrid tea."

"I heard that." Tessa swirled into the light, her braid flicking over her shoulder, her dress shivering around her slender woman's curves. Aye, but she looked a sight. "Samuel, spill all the tea you want. I have more."

"She's a feisty one, Jonah. What do you plan to do about it?"

"Hope she never gets mad at me," he teased, but at the lines etched around Tessa's mouth and the way she did not tease back, he tensed. "How's Andy?"

"I'm not certain. He complains of a bad headache, but it doesn't seem to be responding to my herbs."

" 'Tis because your herbs are likely to kill a healthy man," Father spoke up. "Is my son ill?"

"I don't know. He has no fever, no other complaints." Tessa's voice softened. "I know of some roots that when crushed and added with the bark made a powerful pain killer. Andy said he often gets headache, just not this bad."

"I will help you." Jonah rose, leaving his father with a look of warning. "Don't even think about dumping out that tea."

"I could accidentally spill it." The old man looked defiant. "You'll never know."

"A tea that putrid will leave a stain anywhere you pour it."

"And an uncommonly bad smell." Father's humor came thin, worry wrinkling his face, draining the life from his eyes. "See to Andy. I hope he has not contracted this same illness."

" Tis a headache, nothing more." Though Jonah did not feel assured as he went to join Tessa in the kitchen.

She stood at the counter, pestle in hand. A sound variety of earthy smells, of roots and barks and dried leaves, scented the air around her. "Your father thinks I'm torturing him, but he needs to take his medicine for at least one more week. We cannot risk a return of the fever. His lungs are not strong enough to survive another bout of that sickness."

"I know." Jonah laid his hand on her shoulder because he liked touching her. "You have my support. I trust you with my family. With my life."

"Oh, Jonah." She turned and folded herself against his chest and held him so hard. He could feel how much she cared for him. Thomas was right-aye, he'd made a terrible mistake. He had not misled her. He just had never imagined that a practical spinster with more sense than any woman he'd ever met would harbor a heart so tender.

And he would not hurt her. He would never let her know how cold his heart, how desolate. He kissed her brow, those silken curls tickling his chin, and cradled her close. Rain started to tap at the windows, driven by a somber wind.

Chapter Thirteen

A knock on the front door drew them apart. She hated moving away from him, but she'd given Anya the afternoon off. "I had better answer that before Samuel decides he feels well enough to do it."

"Aye. Let me." He pressed a quick kiss to her brow and then marched away.

Tessa searched through her basket and laid out the crocks on the counter, one by one. She heard the door open and a woman's voice talking fast and high. It sounded like Prudence Bowman.

"Tessa." Jonah pushed through the door, his face tight. "Someone is here to see you. She says her daughter has fallen ill."

A foreboding drew tight in the pit of her stomach. "Send her in-"

"Tessa!" A pale faced woman, dressed in a fine gown and cloak, pushed past Jonah in the threshold and tumbled into the kitchen, windblown and rain specked. "Thankful woke up yesterday saying she didn't feel well, and now she has a fever. She is coughing and fretful."

"What have you been treating her with?" Tessa grabbed up the water pail from the back door and pulled a chair out from the table, motioning Mistress Bowman to sit.

"Honey and tea. My mother swears by it, but it has been of no help." Worry wobbled in her voice as she dropped into the offered chair. "I don't know what else to try."

"I will come take a look as soon as I'm done here." Tessa hefted the heavy pail and poured. Water sluiced into a small kettle. " 'Twill take only a few minutes."

"I fear Thankful's fever is far too advanced. I should have asked for your help earlier, but I was sure it was just from the change in weather and all this dampness."

"Jonah, will you see after Andy?"

While concern narrowed his eyes, he nodded gently. "Thomas has not dragged me out into the fields yet, so I have the time. You want me to give Andy tea?"

"Just plain tea and honey, and he is to drink it all up after he takes this powder. Just this much." She grabbed a spoon from the holder and measured out a quarter teaspoon. "He's to put it right on his tongue. It will taste nasty, but it should ease his pain. If I'm not back by suppertime, make sure he has another cup of tea but no more powder."

"I will." Jonah's hand curled around the kettle handle. "Have Thomas saddle Father's bay mare for you. And Tessa? Try to be home before dark."

A gentle light of caring shone in his eyes, and it moved her, touched her as nothing ever had. He would miss her when she was gone. Her heart filled to brimming. 'Twas a good thing to be loved.


* * *

The sun had set by the time she rode into the stable. The mare was as soaked to the skin as she was. 'Twas a gentle animal, with big friendly eyes and a gentle nature. Friendly, as if the poor animal didn't have anyone to ride her much. Tessa uncinched the saddle and vowed to take the animal out for a run one day soon.

"There you are." Thomas splashed into the stable, wearing a dripping jacket and cap, carrying a small lantern, a tiny beacon against the gathering darkness. "Jonah nearly sent me five different times to see to your safety. He feared the horse had thrown you and left you hurt in the middle of the road."

"I hope you told Jonah I know how to care for myself." Although it warmed her to know her husband worried over her welfare. "Where is he?"

"Putting Father to bed. I saw you ride up." He hooked the lantern on a nail. "Here, let me rub down the mare."

"I was planning on taking her back out again." Tessa gave the horse's neck a gentle pat. "Thankful Bowman complained of a headache yesterday and today she is very ill."

"Andy has a headache." Thomas' jaw tensed. He was a burly man, broader than Jonah through the chest, but not as tall. His somber nature made him seem just as powerful as Jonah, though in a different way. " 'Tis not a good sign."

"Nay. I wanted to take some medicines to Mistress Briers. She complained of a headache today too, and I think 'twould be best to medicate this fever before it hits and settles into the lungs."

"The storm is too miserable. I will take the medicines. All you need to do is write the instructions for the seamstress, and I will see that she gets both."

"You would do that?"

"Aye. Jonah would have my head if I let you back out in that storm. Besides, we fear Andy needs your care now."

Thomas spoke sense, and 'twas good to be needed. And 'twas good to be treated like this, with respect and caring. She imagined this was how good families behaved toward one another, and how nice it was. She knew Thomas, as Jonah's brother, didn't need to come out into the rain to help her or run her errand. But he had.

"Thank you." The words caught in her throat because they were so hard to say.

"For what?" He looked up from grabbing a linen towel from a dark shelf. "For saving you from getting more soaked than you already are?"

"Nay. For accepting me into your family, for treating me so well. 'Tis more than my own family has done." She watched the surprise on his face, and mayhap a bit of confusion. Embarrassed, she ran out into the drumming rain and let the cold wetness sluice away the heat from her face.

"Tessa?" Thomas gazed out at her, framed by the dark threshold, backlit by the single lantern's gentle flame. "I am glad you're happy here with us. We appreciate you more than you know."

Aye, 'twas good to belong. To truly belong. She smiled, not trusting her voice, and hurried to the house. Warmth and the sweet scent of steeping tea met her as she rushed inside. Water dripped from her cloak's hem.

"Mistress." Anya spun from the hearth. "We've all been worried. The storm is so severe."

"No need to worry, for I'm well. Has Andy shown any signs of fever?"

"Nay, but he has been coughing." The girl stuffed her hands behind a pretty but plain apron. "Colonel Hunter said that since I was looking around in the attic as you told me to do, I should take whatever I might need. Like this apron."

Tessa knew Anya had come with only the clothes on her back. "Did Samuel climb the attic ladder by himself?"

"Aye. He tried to swear me to secrecy, but I told him I would not lie to my mistress." A small nervous smile flickered across her pale face. "If this is too much, I can put it back."

"Nay, an apron is sensible. And we must clothe you. Think of how indecent it would be if we did not." On a smile, Tessa shrugged out of her cloak and hung it on a wall peg to drip dry. "Do you like your room?"