My sister Mary died in childbirth. She was Matt’s first wife. Their oldest son, Nick, is Mary’s child. Patricia raised him like her own. Matt didn’t like Patricia to get pregnant, but back then, there wasn’t a lot about birth control here.
There was no bitterness in Rubin. He genuinely cared for Patricia and thought of her as family.
Jonquille nodded her head. “He sounds like an amazing man, Mama Patricia. You must miss him so much. I’m very certain he wouldn’t be happy with all the heavy lifting you’re doing though. I can see it’s really hurting your body. Our spines have cushions called disks sitting between each of our vertebrae so they don’t scrape against each other. That’s all up and down your spinal cord, right? As we age, those cushions can start to dry out. If you put too much stress on your back, a disk can tear or break. The more weight you pick up, the more work you do, the more disks can rupture. That can cause your arms and legs to really hurt. Or they can feel numb or tingle.”
Patricia’s eyes went wide with shock. “Really? That happens to me all the time now, especially in my hands. It’s from my back, you think?”
“Most likely. You have to take better care of yourself. You have two sons at home with you now. I know you’re used to doing the work yourself, but you have to let them do it for you. One day, they’ll find women of their own, right? Isn’t that your hope for them? You want them to be men like your husband, looking out for their women the way he looked out for you. If you’re always doing everything, they won’t even notice the chores that are difficult.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Patricia mused. “I do want them to be like their father. You’re right, Jonquille. I’ll have to do better about giving them the opportunity to do for me. I don’t even ask them.”
Rubin straightened slowly. Jonquille noted he looked a little pale. He stepped back from the bed and reached behind him to find the one chair Patricia had in the room. He sat down rather fast, almost as if his legs couldn’t hold him up.
Jonquille smiled down at their patient. “I’m going to grab some water. You need to just rest for a couple of minutes. Would you like something cool to drink?”
“No, I’m fine,” Patricia said. “I don’t know why I’m always tired after Rubin does his natural healing on me, but sometimes, I feel like I can’t move for a little while.”
Jonquille glanced at Rubin for reassurance. He nodded at her.
“That’s very normal,” Jonquille comforted her. She hurried down the hall to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. It was definitely spring water. She brought it back to Rubin.
He took the glass with a faint smile. Thanks. Always remember, using any gift, especially healing, takes energy out of you. You’ll need to rest after. If you’re in a combat situation and you’re attempting to save someone, you have to reserve enough strength to get yourself and whoever you’re working on to safety.
She knew he was speaking from experience. She really admired him. She wondered how often he’d gone into combat and pulled soldiers out of dangerous situations to save their lives at the risk of his own. What did she do? Hide away from people in order to keep from attracting lightning to them. She couldn’t even use her healing skills on them. This had been one of the few times she had been able to even try, and that was all because of Rubin. He’d drawn all energy away from her, giving her the opportunity.
Don’t look so sad, Jonquille. We’re going to have a good evening. You’ll like her sons, and the food will be fantastic. We’ll sort things out.
They would have a good evening. She knew they would. She lived life in the moment. She’d learned to do that. More than anything she would enjoy every second she had with Rubin. He was such a good man. Tonight, she would be grateful he was hers. They would settle into a routine at the cabin. Rubin would take first watch. Diego second and her last. When it was her turn, she would go hunting. She would find the threat to Rubin and hopefully eliminate them before they could find him. He was too good a man for anyone to harm. But she was taking this night to laugh and talk and pretend she was normal.
Edward Sawyer was a good-looking mountain man with a dark beard, wide shoulders and a ready smile. He had an easy, relaxed way about him, although Jonquille wasn’t the least bit fooled into thinking that meant he wasn’t alert. His gaze constantly shifted to the terrain around the house, quartering each segment of land as he teased his mother while he competed with Diego for eating the most food.