as they clustered around to speak with her.
“I think it’s time to rest,” Catherine said to them all after a while. “I’ll come talk to you after I’ve settled her.”
Drew herded everyone down the stairs. They all found seats in the front room, Simon and James on opposite ends of the table, John on a bench alongside, Beth in Ma’s rocking chair and Levi sprawled on the braided rug with Drew standing behind him leaning against the stairs. He caught himself counting heads, even though he knew everyone was present. Habit. He’d been watching over them for the past ten years, ever since the day his father had died.
It had been a widow-maker that had claimed their father. Drew had been eighteen then, and only Simon at sixteen and James at fourteen had been old enough and strong enough to help clear the timber for their family’s original claim. None of them had seen the broken limb high on the massive fir before it came crashing down.
“Take care of them,” his father had said when his brothers had pulled the limb off him and Drew had cradled him in his arms. Already his father’s voice had started wheezing from punctured lungs, and blood had tinged his lips. “Take care of them all, Andrew. This family is your responsibility.”
He had never forgotten. He hadn’t lost another member of the family, though his brothers had made the job challenging. They’d broken arms and legs, cut themselves on saws and knives, fought off diseases he was afraid to name. Even sweet Beth had given him a scare a few months ago when she’d nearly succumbed to a fever much like their mother’s.
He’d kept them safe, nursed them through any illness or injury. His had been the shoulders they’d cried on, the arms that had held them through the night. He’d been the one to ride for medicine, to cut cloths into bandages. He’d been the one to sit up with them night after night. Having someone help felt odd, as if he’d put on the wrong pair of boots.
That odd feeling didn’t ease as Catherine came down the stairs to join them. As if she were a schoolmarm prepared to instruct, she took up her place by the fire. The crackling flames set her figure in silhouette.
“I thought you would all want to hear what I believe about your mother’s condition,” she said, and Drew knew he wasn’t the only Wallin leaning forward to catch every word.
“Two culprits cause this type of fever,” she continued, gaze moving from one brother to another until it met Drew’s. “Typhus and typhoid fever.”
Neither sounded good, and his stomach knotted.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” John asked.
She shook her head. “Many people think so, and some doctors treat them the same, but they are very different beasts. With typhus, the fever never leaves, and the patient simply burns up.”
Beth shivered and rubbed a hand up her arm.
“Typhoid fever, on the other hand,” Catherine said as if she hadn’t noticed, “is generally worse for the first two or three weeks and then starts to subside. Given how long you said she’s suffered, I’m leaning toward typhoid fever, but we should know for sure within the week.”
Simon seized on the word. “A week. Then, you’ll stay with us for that long.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I promised to return Miss Stanway to Seattle tomorrow,” Drew said.
Simon scowled at him.
“We need her more than Seattle does,” Levi complained.
His other brothers murmured their agreement.
“That isn’t our decision to make,” Drew argued.
“No,” Catherine put in. “It’s mine.”
That silenced them. She clasped her hands in front of her blue gown. “Doctors take an oath to care for their patients. My father believed that nurses should take one, as well. It is my duty to care for your mother and for you, should you sicken.”
A duty she took seriously, he could see. Her color was high, her face set with determination as she glanced around at them all. “I will stay until your mother is out of danger.”
Simon stood. “It’s settled, then. Drew, clear out your cabin and let her have it. You can bunk with me. I snore less than Levi or James.”
John rolled his eyes. “That’s what you think.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take anyone’s cabin,” Catherine started.
Drew held up his hand. “No, Simon’s right. Not about his snoring. He’s louder than Yesler’s sawmill.” As his other brothers laughed and Simon shook his head, Drew continued, “You need a place of your own. I’ll clear out my cabin tonight so you can sleep when you finish with Ma.”
“I intend to stay up with her tonight,” Catherine warned him.
“Then the cabin will be waiting for you in the morning,” Drew assured her.
She smiled at them. “Well, then, gentlemen, I will leave you for the night. I understand the youngest Mr. Wallin sleeps upstairs. I’ll send him if we need anything.”
Again Levi looked as if he were going to protest, but one glance at Drew and he shrugged and settled back on the rug. Drew watched her climb the stairs, Beth right behind her.
“That’s quite a woman,” Simon mused, stretching his feet over Levi’s prone form toward the fire.
“Never met one so determined,” James mused.
“You never met one with that kind of education, either,” John reminded him. “I like the fact that she isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”
“Bit on the bossy side,” Levi said with a yawn. “But she’ll do.”
“That she will,” Simon agreed. “The only question is, which one of us is going to marry her?”
Just what he’d feared. Drew stiffened. “No one said anything about marriage.”
Simon glanced around at his brothers. “I believe I just did.”
John nodded, brightening. “Inspired. She’s smart, and she has a skill we sorely need.”
“And she’s not bad to look at,” James added.
“You could do a lot worse, Drew,” Levi agreed.
Drew shook his head. “You’re mad, the lot of you. I’m not getting married.”
“Suit yourself.” Simon rose and went to the fireplace to scoop up a handful of kindling. “We’ll draw straws. Short straw proposes.”
Drew stared as his other brothers, except Levi, rose to their feet. “Don’t be ridiculous. She wouldn’t have any of you.”
James shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to try.”
Simon squared up the sticks and hid all but the tops in his hand, then held them out to his brothers. “Who wants to go first?”
Drew
