After the Storm Read Online Free Page B

storm.
    Over their heads, Samuel stared at the motionless woman on the sofa. He stepped forward and motioned for the children to move aside. For a long moment, they just looked up at him. Then, glancing at each other and sharing some message he was not privy to, they edged away.
    â€œBrendan,” he said quietly, “I know it’s still storming, but the worst of the lightning seems to have passed. Will you take the wagon into town and bring back Doc Bamburger … if he’s well enough to come? Tell him it’s important. Otherwise, I wouldn’t call him out on such a night.”
    The boy ran out of the parlor without answering. The front door slammed against the wall as he threw it open.
    On the sofa, the woman mumbled something.
    Samuel did not try to figure out what she was saying. In her fever, it could have been anything or nothing of importance. What was important was getting her quarantined somewhere away from the children.
    He lifted her into his arms again. Before he could ask, Megan stood on tiptoe and adjusted her mother’s head against his chest.
    â€œThank you,” he said softly. “Megan, get your mother’s bag, which is out in the foyer, and bring it to the guest room.”
    The little girl regarded him through tear-filled eyes. “Will she be all right, Samuel?”
    â€œPlease do as I asked. Then go upstairs.” He looked down at the littlest child, who was watching him with wide eyes. “Take Lottie up with you and say your prayers that your mother will be fine.”
    Megan hurried to her sister. Grasping Lottie’s hand, she ran into the hall and picked up the bag. She stuffed the lacy clothing back into it and, with Lottie trying to keep up, raced to the guest room at the back of the house.
    Samuel followed, trying not to jostle the woman. Not the woman, but Mrs. Rafferty. He murmured his thanks as he met Megan and Lottie by the stairs. Telling them he would come up and get them as soon as their mother woke up, he watched Megan lead her sister to their room.
    Samuel looked from Lottie’s confused face to the woman in his arms. Had Lottie even recognized her own mother? She had been so young when she had last seen her. He grumbled a profanity under his breath. Why had this woman deserted her children and now obviously come searching for them?
    More questions he needed answers for.
    He carried her into the extra bedroom. Placing her on the bed, he lit a lamp and set it on the table by the bed. He grimaced when he saw how her wet clothes were soaking into the coverlet. If he left her in those clothes, she could take a chill that might be fatal in her weakened condition. If he started to remove them and she woke, she could cause all kinds of trouble for him. A woman who left her young children to fend for themselves in New York’s slums might have come after them only because she had heard they were with him and wanted to extort something from him in exchange for not hurting the children again.
    It was not easy to believe that pretty face could hide such a horrible intent. She was not beautiful, but her face, which resembled Megan’s would, if she was smiling, offer a warmth that would draw people to her. Was she as stubborn as Brendan? Could she be as silly as Lottie? Were Megan’s easily hurt feelings a legacy from her mother?
    â€œWhat are you thinking?” he asked himself. He should not be letting his gaze linger on her features when he needed to be thinking about other things. Things like getting her out of those wet garments, and things like how stupid it would be to trust her.
    He picked up her bag and tilted the contents onto the floor. Nothing but a change of underclothes and another surprisingly clean apron. Not even a hairbrush. Why had she traveled with so little? That was another question he would not get an answer to until she regained her senses.
    Samuel drew back her soaked hair and undid her collar, watching her face to