Not a Drop to Drink (Not a Drop to Drink #1)

“I know,” Lynn said, stabbing a green bean with undue force.

“So the others, at the stream? You said there was a boy and a woman?”

“Yeah, Eli he said his name was, and the woman . . . I forget. Something weird.”

“Neva,” the little girl piped up. “Mama’s name is Neva. It’s pretty, not weird.”

Stebbs and Lynn shared a glance. After that, they ate in silence, the sound of their forks dinging against the sides of their jars the only sound in the basement. The fire in the little cookstove was crackling pleasantly, and Lucy began to nod off. Her head tipped to one side and came to rest on Stebbs’ shoulder.

“She’s done in,” he said, gently taking her food and fork away. “Wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lynn grunted, pretending to search for the last bits of bean stuck to the sides of her jar.

“You done the right thing, bringing her back.”

“What else was I going to do?”

Stebbs’ face became serious as he looked down at the little head nestled against him. “There’s always options.”

“The mother won’t be lasting long.”

“What is it, do you think?”

“Don’t know,” Lynn answered. “The boy wouldn’t let the little one here close to the tent. They both drank straight from the stream, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it was cholera. I never got a look at her, and I wasn’t interested.”

“Mama’s sick,” Lucy mumbled. “Baby won’t come out.”

Lynn and Stebbs exchanged glances. “Baby?” he asked. “Your mom is pregnant?”

Lucy nodded sleepily. “Eli wouldn’t let me see her, he said the baby might come out, and it would be yucky.”

“That’s one word for it,” Stebbs said, gently urging Lucy’s head off his shoulder. “Come on now, little one, time for bed.”

“A real bed?” Lucy asked as Stebbs cradled her tiny frame in his arms. “With a pillow and everything?”

“A pillow and everything,” he promised, and laid her down on Lynn’s cot. She burrowed under the blankets, curling her knees up to her chest. Lynn tried not to grimace at the sight of her filthy head resting on the clean pillowcase.

“Think she’s got lice?”

“Lice, and fleas too, I wouldn’t doubt,” Stebbs said, motioning to Lynn to follow him up the stairs. “You’ll want to boil those sheets in the morning. And get her a hot bath, first thing.”

They emerged into the cold night, the stark brilliance of the stars shining down on them. The air was so cold, the stars so clear, that Lynn could make out the shapes of the last leaves clinging to the maple branches. Larger shapes hung among the limbs as well.

“The venison?” she asked, jerking her chin toward them.

Stebbs nodded. “Leave it there ’bout a month or so. I’ll come help when it’s time to get it down, take my share. Nothing much should bother it up there, a squirrel or two maybe. I understand you’re not too partial to those?”

“I didn’t know it was her pet,” Lynn shot back.

Stebbs sighed and looked up at the brilliance of the night sky. “Your mom taught you a lot, but she couldn’t’ve taught you what she didn’t know, like how to take a joke.”

“I’ll laugh when something’s funny,” she retorted, sinking down to sit on the ground. “And right now, that’s not a lot. My provisions are back to feeding two.”

“I’ll help, and I owe you for my supper tonight.”

“No,” Lynn said. “Bringing her back was my decision, and our deal was to split whatever I got from the camp in return for you butchering my deer. You did your half, and all I brought back was more work.”

“Maybe,” Stebbs answered. “But the deal was to split what you found. I’ll help with the girl.”

There was silence between them for a moment while a strange feeling bloomed inside Lynn’s chest, something else Mother had never taught her. Gratitude.

“Now,” Stebbs said. “What to do about the boy and the mother?”

“I’ve got my share of work,” Lynn said. “And then some.”

Stebbs lowered himself to sit beside her, an action both clumsy and endearing. “Maybe so, but if they get back on their feet, the girl won’t be your problem anymore.”

Lynn shook her head. “They’re sunk. The boy was in worse shape than the little girl. I’m guessing he’s giving most of the food to her and the woman.”

“Who is eating for two,” Stebbs reminded her.

“Like I said—sunk.”

Another silence settled over them, this one permeated with the knowledge that an argument was about to begin.

“I won’t leave them there to die,” Stebbs said.

“You were happy enough to last week.”

“It’s different now. That little girl has a family; we’re able to stop her from being orphaned. Wouldn’t you want someone to take a chance if it meant you could have your mother back?”