1886. Hattie Phelan, too sick to work in the factories, moves to live with her distant relatives in Iowa with Constance Daugherty, her fellow tenant from Chicago. Hattie, embittered at the death of her mother and leaving her father in Chicago, is an...
Once again, I was on bed rest, and I hated it even more than before. I stared up at the ceiling, feeling restlessness build in my chest. My aunt and uncle moved me back to our place, but I wanted to know how David was doing since he had been out in the rain longer than I had. Even now, I prayed over and over that God would protect him from too much harm. I couldn't bear for David to lose his life after I had found him.
But what I also realized was that God had answered my prayer in the rain that day. I prayed that I would find David, and moments later, I did. I was so thankful, and in the moment I hadn't even realized the prayer was answered. It was only in retrospect that I was able to fully acknowledge the miracle.
"Hattie," Aunt Margarette said from behind my door as she knocked before peeking her head through. "Do you have the strength to come downstairs? You have a visitor."
"Who is it?" I asked, sitting up as I felt the energy drain from my chest.
"Wally."
He could tell me about David, I thought as I forced energy to surge through my veins. I quickly got up as Aunt Margarette rushed to my side to help me. She helped me downstairs into the parlor, giving me a nice big chair by the fireplace and a blanket. I gratefully accepted both. Aunt Margarette let Wally into the room as he took a chair across from me. We stared at each other for a moment as Aunt Margarette left the room, the door slightly ajar.
"How are you feeling?" Wally asked after a few moments of silence.
"Cold and tired," I said before coughing slightly. "But I feel I will recover fairly quickly."
We were left in another moment of silence as it seemed we were both pondering our words.
"How is David?"
"I wanted to thank you—"
We both paused since we talked over each other.
"You first," Wally said, leaning back into his chair.
"How is David?" I repeated, pulling my blanket to my chest as I leaned back into my chair, gathering as much internal warmth as possible.
"Surprisingly well," Wally said with a smile. "He has a sniffle and had a trifle of a fever the night of, but it broke quickly."
"Thank God," I said with a sigh. Another prayer answered.
"Yes," Wally said, looking down darkly. I was taken aback by his sudden mood change.
"What were you wanting to say?" I asked, trying to change his demeanor with the question.
"I just wanted to say thank you," Wally said, looking me in the eyes as he smiled softly. "I don't know what I would have done if David hadn't made it. Your quick thinking and ability to step in saved him. Thank you."
"You're welcome," I said softly. "I just did what any person would have done."
"And I'm grateful for you," Wally said, before standing up. "I'll get out of your hair and let you rest easy."
"Did you find Nathan?" I asked before he could leave. Wally paused before turning to me, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, Wally."
"Nothing for you to be sorry for," he said before opening the door wider. "Mama wants to see you when you get better, so if you're able, she'd mighty appreciate it."
"Of course," I said breathlessly as he left. Nathan was gone. How could I have forgotten to pray for him too? Was it my fault no one found him because I had forgotten to pray for him in the rush of things? All I knew was that the Rickmans needed a break from all the heartache and that I would be praying for them.
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