*
MERRIE WAS ON TIME for supper. She and Delsey ate a nice stew with biscuits, then Merrie went up to her room to sketch some more. She’d gone to bed when she heard Ren’s footsteps come up the stairs. Odd how slow they sounded. His step was always quick and confident. Probably he was just tired, she thought. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
The next morning, she was on time for breakfast, but Ren wasn’t sitting at the table, as he usually was.
Delsey frowned as she put things on the table. “Not like him to be late. I’m going up to check on him.”
“I hope he’s all right,” Merrie said.
“Warned him about being out in that snow when he was already feeling bad. He never listens.” She was still muttering as she went out the door and up the staircase.
Delsey was back very soon. She went directly to the phone in the living room, picked it up and dialed.
She told someone Ren’s symptoms, then nodded. “Yes, I’ll have Tubbs drive him right into town. Thanks, Sylvia.”
She hung up. Then she called down to the bunkhouse, asked for Tubbs and had him come up to the house.
“Ren’s sick?” Merrie asked, worriedly.
“Yes. He sounds as if he’s breathing water,” Delsey said worriedly. “He almost never gets sick, but there’s that virus that was going around, and he won’t take care of himself. Out in the freezing cold and wind for hours...” She stopped. “Go eat, child. He’ll be all right. He’s tough.”
Merrie managed a smile. She felt sad. When Ren walked in the door, the house came to life. It was an odd thing to feel about a man she barely knew and didn’t really like. But he seemed to fill the house up with color just by being in it.
*
MINUTES LATER, DELSEY propped him up with her shoulder and helped him walk down the staircase. His face was a pasty white, and he looked terrible. When he coughed, the congestion was audible.
“I’m all right,” he was protesting.
“You’re not all right. Merrie, can you hold on to him for me while I see if Tubbs is out there? I think I hear the truck...”
“Of course.” Merrie took Delsey’s place under Ren’s arm and felt the hard muscular body closer than she ever had before. He was warm and strong, and smelled of fir trees. She liked the feeling she got, being near him like this. It was something she’d never experienced.
Ren liked the softness of her young body. He liked the feel of her. He liked it too much, he thought to himself. He moved restlessly. He felt really sick.
“It’s okay,” Merrie said softly. “The doctor will give you something, and you’ll get better.”
“I’ve got work to do...!”
“It will get done when it gets done,” she said firmly. “You can’t work if you’re dead, now, can you?”
He looked down into her soft pale blue eyes. “Pest,” he muttered.
She grinned up at him. “Certifiable.”
He managed a laugh, but it made him cough.
Delsey motioned to them. “Tubbs is right outside. Come on, Mr. Ren.” She looked out the door. “Tubbs, come help, he’s heavy!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Tubbs came shooting in the door, grinned at Merrie and took Ren under the arm. “Come on, boss man. You can’t die. We’ll all have to go looking for work and we’ll never find anybody else who’ll yell at us and threaten to soak our blankets in vinegar.”
“Tubbs...” Ren began irritably.
“On the other hand, if you die, I want that nice watch you have, the one with all the dials,” Tubbs continued.
Surprisingly, Ren burst out laughing, which caused another coughing fit.
“In you go, boss man. You’re not dying today.” He waved to the women, got in beside Ren and drove away.
Merrie went back inside the house with Delsey, rubbing her arms because it was bitterly cold outside.
“You need a winter coat,” Delsey said firmly.
“I’ll go shopping. But not today.” Merrie laughed. She followed Delsey into the kitchen. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?” she added, worried and not able to hide it.
Delsey suppressed a smile. “He’ll be fine. Dr. Fellows will make sure of it. He delivered Ren.”
She cocked her head. “How long ago?” she wondered.
“Almost thirty-seven years,” Delsey replied. “He was born December 6.”
“I see.” He was older than she’d thought. Thirty-six, to her twenty-two. Well, she’d be twenty-three in November. It was still fourteen years. She supposed a mature man like that would think of her as just a child. It depressed her. She wondered why. He was hot-tempered, irritable, impatient, overbearing... Well, she had to finish that knitting, and adding to the adjectives would take a long time.
*
REN CAME HOME LATER, with Tubbs still supporting him.
“We have medicine and orders from the doctor,” Tubbs said, helping Ren up the staircase. “I expect him to take the first and ignore the second.”
“You can bet on it,” Ren muttered.
Tubbs just laughed.