After the Storm Read Online Free Page A

“Didn’t you hear me?”
    â€œYes, I heard you, but—” He struggled to escape from Samuel’s hold.
    â€œShe’s sick, and I don’t want you near her. I don’t need you getting sick, too.”
    â€œI know, but—”
    â€œSo go back to your room and to bed. I’ll tend to her. When she wakes up, I’ll find out who she is and contact someone to come and get her.”
    â€œBut, Samuel—”
    â€œOff to bed, Brendan.”
    The boy planted his feet, his gaze rocking from Samuel’s face to the woman on the sofa. “No.”
    â€œNo?” Never had Brendan disobeyed him like this. “Brendan, I think you should go to your room.”
    Grabbing Samuel’s sleeve, he said, “No. Let me stay! Please.”
    He frowned, noting how the boy’s thin chest was heaving as if he had tried to lift a tree out of the ground. “Why do you want to stay here where this stranger could—”
    â€œShe’s not a stranger.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Brendan looked up at him, his mouth working. Through a sob, he said, “She’s my mother.”

Two
    â€œYour mother?” Samuel wanted to believe he had heard wrong.
    Brendan slipped past him and rushed to the sofa. Kneeling, the boy put his hand over the woman’s and leaned his head against her arm. Tears ran down his cheeks. He wiped his sleeve under his nose as he sobbed.
    Watching, Samuel could not think of a word to say. A condition Theo, his onetime partner in their Cincinnati law firm, would have found unbelievable. Samuel had always prided himself on being able, when he chose, to speak his opinions in any situation. He had been wrong, because his mind was blank now.
    As Brendan untied the kerchief on the woman’s head and lifted it off to dab it against her rain-soaked cheeks, red hair fell down over her shoulders. It was the same vibrant shade as the children’s. Beneath summer freckles, their skin possessed the same pale coolness of hers. Only a few freckles decorated her nose and high cheekbones. Had she had as many freckles as Megan when she was a child? Or was that an inheritance from their father?
    Samuel gripped the back of the closest chair, recoiling as if someone had struck him in the gut. Mother? Father? These kids had come to Haven on the orphan train. If they had parents, what had they been doing on the train?
    â€œBrendan?” He was unsure which question to ask first.
    â€œThey said she was dead.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve again. “They said she was dead.”
    While Samuel fished his handkerchief from his pocket and held it out, Brendan continued to stare at the woman. The sound of soft footfalls was Samuel’s only warning before Megan pushed past him to stand behind her brother. Lottie wrapped her arm around Samuel’s leg and stuck her thumb in her mouth, a sign she was as agitated as her weeping siblings.
    Brendan took Megan’s hand. She stretched out her other hand to touch the woman’s cheek. When the woman groaned, Megan whirled in panic.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with Mama?” she cried.
    Samuel stepped forward, with Lottie clasping his leg. “She has a fever, so she must be sick. You need to stay away from her until we find out what’s wrong. If she has diphtheria—”
    â€œNo!” cried Brendan, jumping to his feet. “Don’t say that, Samuel! Mama is here! Mama is alive! She’s not going to die now.”
    Taking the boy by the shoulders, he bent to look directly into Brendan’s eyes. “She’s very ill, Brendan, but she’s here and out of the rain now, and we’ll do all we can to make sure she gets better.”
    Brendan threw his arms around Samuel’s shoulders and pressed his face against Samuel’s already drenched shirt. Looking past the boy, Samuel held out his hand to Megan. The little girl clutched it as if she feared being sucked away by the