Marriage held no appeal for her. Why was she even thinking such a thing? As far as she knew, she was at this moment still a married woman. There was some indication that Howard might be in New Orleans. If not presently here, at least known here. Known because he was now and then here. She would find him if she could. But for the moment she had to safely mount these stairs. And she must do what she could to care for Constance.
The children were at their stations at Analee’s feet, twisting and handing up the cool wet cloths. They jumped up at the appearance of the doctor and threw their arms around his legs, greeting him as they might an uncle. He had been their doctor all their lives and their mother’s much-loved friend. He bent to hug each of them and whispered enthusiastic praise for their help in caring for their mother. Analee and Dr. Birdsong began speaking quietly, while Alice stood aside. The doctor turned his head and made room for her in the conversation. Analee was telling him the details of Constance’s fatigue in the days leading up to the alarming onset of her fever.
The thermometer from his bag registered 104.7 degrees of fever. Alice cringed at the number, so nearly the same as her dead baby son had suffered. When she had reached out to his cradle to soothe his fretting in the middle of the night, she had cried out at the touch of his skin, so hot it had been. Now her hands went instinctively to her abdomen in a gesture of innate protection.
“You all right, Miss Alice?” said Analee.
Unaware she had inadvertently gasped aloud, Alice looked up at the two faces turned to her in surprise.
“I—I’m fine,” she said. “I just . . . Well, the degree of fever alarmed me, is all. I’m fine.”
She wanted them to turn their attention back to Constance and away from her. She had to, at some point in her life, find a way not to respond so reflexively, so intensely to reminders of Jonathan’s death. It did not serve her well. Not, at least, until she found Howard.
“That fever mighty high, Doc.” Analee changed out another cloth with Delia. “You think she got the influenza?”
“Hard to know exactly, Analee. There isn’t anything much going around these days except head colds and hay fever, a few upset stomachs. The usual, you know. Haven’t encountered any cases of influenza.”
“The yellow fever?”
“Too early in the year for that, Analee, and not hot enough, though it’s been unusually warm this winter. February felt like May, but even then, it’s not so hot as when we usually have the summer outbreaks.”
Alice reached down and took another cool cloth from Delia, handed it to Analee.
“She seems to be in a good bit of pain, Doctor,” Alice said. She was trying to hold herself together and move her thoughts away from the fever.
Dr. Birdsong leaned over and spoke. “Are you in pain, Constance? Can you tell me what hurts?”
Alice saw the empty look as Constance opened her eyes. Dr. Birdsong repeated his question. Alice smoothed the damp hair away from Constance’s burning forehead as she nodded, then wrenched in pain at the movement.
“Constance, what’s hurting?”
“Head.” Her voice was barely audible. “Neck.”
“Anything else?”
“Mm-hmm. Hurts. So bad . . .”
Dr. Birdsong lifted Constance’s wrist and counted silently. He leaned over with his stethoscope, pressed it gently, then moved it, pressed again.
“Constance, I’m going to have Analee and Alice give you something for your pain. You won’t like it, I’m afraid. It’s quite bitter and hard on the stomach. Does your stomach hurt?”
Constance nodded, then winced at the pain of moving her neck.
“Powdered salicylic acid, ladies. You will need to dissolve it in tolerably hot water. May be difficult to get down her.” He leaned toward his patient and patted her limp hand. “I’ll be back, Constance.” He stood observing her for a moment.
“Let’s step outside,” the doctor mouthed, then ushered the women out the door. “We’ll be right back, girls. I think I see a nursing career in your futures.”
In the hallway, Alice stopped between Dr. Birdsong and Analee. She felt a conflicting sense of both belonging right here and being a total outsider. They seemed to assume her presence simply as one of them, but Alice was intimidated by their familiarity with one another. They had known each other at the most basic level for years, while she felt herself a stranger to everyone, even those little girls in there.
“How many days past the Mysterieuses ball did you notice her fatigue?”
The Mysterieuses ball! How could the doctor know that? He knew she was there, in spite of the careful disguise. Alice glanced at Analee in consternation, only to see her face as stoic as ever.
“You needn’t act as if she wasn’t there, ladies. You know I was there myself. I had a dance with her, helped her into her carriage home.”
Still, Analee stood unmoved, and Alice followed her cue.
“Come now. Would you actually believe I wouldn’t know my friend since we were as young as those two little girls in there?” Birdsong shifted on his feet, appearing a bit outdone. “All right, all right. You win. I beg your pardon, ladies. Or should I beg the pardon of that young widow in there, now so ill? A widow who should be in mourning and not out at fancy balls, is that it? Especially the ball of an all-female krewe—a ground-breaking precedent, I might add, festivities making history.”
Alice stepped a bit closer to Analee. The nearby warmth of her tall body was a comfort.
“Well, then, let me rephrase my question. Let’s see, now. All right, how many days back did you begin to notice any fatigue or weakness?”
“Now that ain’t hard to answer, Dr. Birdsong. She start seeming a bit peaked maybe a week or so ago. Six, seven days before she came straight out sick and fevered.”
“Thank you, Analee. I think we can rule out influenza, then. Has she eaten any unwashed fruit or had anything to eat or drink that might have been unclean that you know of?”
When Analee shook her head, Alice felt his eyes on her.
“No, Doctor Birdsong. I’ve been with her virtually every time she’s left the house. She’s had nothing that I have not had myself.”
“And you are feeling fit?”
Alice’s hand went to her abdomen. She couldn’t help but sense he noticed. She felt herself examined under his keen medical eye.
“Yes, quite.”
“You’re sure, then?”
Alice found his insistent questioning annoying. Apparently, she had given herself away.
“I beg your pardon, Alice. I wasn’t making myself clear. The reason I’m asking these questions is that it’s possible to contract typhoid from eating anything unwashed or possibly washed in unclean water. I’m thinking there might be a strong possibility of typhoid indicated in these early symptoms. If so, all of you caring for her, plus the children, could also be in danger of catching it.”
The fear that took hold of Alice left her numb. Here, at last somewhat safe, assured of care in her pregnancy—and now this. She knew the devastations of typhoid fever from tales she had heard since she was old enough to comprehend them, tales of inordinate internal bleeding, of an old man whose bowels had torn open inside him, of a pregnant woman who had lost her baby. Alice held her hands to her belly, held herself still through an impulse to flee, stood rigidly silent. She could not stay here if Constance had typhoid fever. She could not eat in this house, play with the children. She would have to leave, seek refuge in the orphanage, after all. Was it too late already? Alice’s fingers tightened over her abdomen.
Alice could see a mirror to her alarm on Analee’s face: her rich brown color had drained to an ashen hue, her dark eyes had widened. Her hands were frozen in midair, one damp cloth hanging loosely across her palm.
“Now, don’t be alarmed quite yet, ladies,” the doctor said. “I am only asking for information. I need to rule out all possibilities.” He turned toward Analee. “Has she exhibited any stomach distress? Nausea? Vomiting? Any—” He hesitated.
Alice felt his hesitancy in a brief glance in her direction. He would likely feel comfortable with Analee, but it was doubtful that he would say more in her presence. Perhaps he hadn’t a sense of what it meant to be a prairie girl.
“Any bowel problems?” He raised his head to Analee as he said it.
Analee shook her head.