Pearl petted him. “Okay, one short ride, boy, to check for campfires, and then I have to get back to my lookout,” she warned, wagging a finger. Pie flapped his lips over Pearl’s cheek.
“Ah.” She moved back and rubbed her red cheek. “Chaffed again. I should know better by now, but I do love your kisses,” she said, chuckling.
I knew Pearl had to be lonely up here without family or friends. I missed my mama and papa something fierce. But I had Retta, and Pearl had no one but me in these parts. I smiled, thankful to Retta for saving me from the clutches of the prison.
“Ride over to Retta’s for dinner Sunday. Retta turned ninety-two. I’m going to make her a celebration meal and you’re invited.”
“Ninety-two, that’s remarkable. Love to meet and toast your dear Retta,” she said with a grateful smile.
Ninety-two. Pearl said it sweetly, but her words drew a worry. “Best hurry home. See you Sunday, Pearl.”
Fourteen
Puzzled, I stopped and stared ahead. Junia brayed loudly and swished her tail. Something was wrong.
A strange horse was loosely tethered to the post on Retta’s porch, grazing. Junia kicked sideways and called out bossy neighs. The horse glanced up. Bored, it lowered its head back to the grasses as I tried to steady the mule.
When Junia was settled in her stall, I climbed up the wooden steps. “Retta, I picked some herbs and ramps.” I dropped my bag on the porch, creaked open the door. “Retta?”
The young woman greeted me, wearing a dark-blue jacket with FNS embroidered on its sleeve and a pair of matching wool britches. A nurse’s cap rested on her head and a stethoscope hung from her neck.
She put a shushing finger to her lips. “Miss Adams is ill,” she barely whispered. “I’m Amara Ballard from the Frontier Nursing Service. I’ve been nursing her. Are you a relative?” she asked.
As far as Retta was concerned and the court decreed, I was. “I’m Honey Lovett, and I live with Retta. I left you the money and a note to come.” I peered over her shoulder.
The nurse nodded, understanding. “She’s in grave condition; her heart is failing, Honey. I’m sorry but I’ve done everything I can.” Amara stepped outside.
I gripped the post and gasped. “She was fine this morning. What do you mean her heart is failing? Please help her.”
“I’m truly sorry. There is nothing more I can do—”
“Please, I have money,” I whispered hoarsely, the tears strangling as I tore off my coat and reached inside the lining. Amara touched my shoulder and I saw the helplessness reflected in her eyes.
“She’s all I have left. The only one in the world. There must be something you can do to make her well again. Please, Nurse Amara,” I said, shoving the coat into her hands. “Take all the money, just save my Retta,” I half sobbed her name.
“I’m sorry. She’s been calling for you. Go in and visit with her, Honey, I’ll wait out here a while.” She handed me back my coat.
Inside, I rushed over to Retta’s bed, knelt down, and grabbed her hand in my gloved one. “Retta, it’s me. It’s me, Honey! Retta.” I waited for her response, but I found none in her limp hand. I tore off my gloves. Pressing her hand against my cheek, I rubbed and kissed her fingers. “Retta, it’s me, your petunia.”
From behind, a chair scraped against the wooden floors. Someone placed a hand on my shoulder. “Honey.” I got a whiff of his whiskey-soaked clothing and breath. I looked up into her nephew’s reddened eyes. Alonzo said, “She took a spell in town after we came out of the bank. Brought her home and put her straight to bed. She’s been waiting for you, Honey.” He studied Retta. “Auntie, Honey’s come home,” he said, clutching a paper in his hand. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back tonight.”