Chapter Fifty-Two

Over the next two days, Grace’s pain receded, and she showed no signs of infection. Jacob stopped giving her morphine and switched to willow bark tea, though he was tempted to give himself some morphine to ease the vicious crick in his back he’d developed from sleeping on Grace’s bedroom floor. Jacob sent Luo Shu to the store to let Luo Jun and Frank know what had happened and that he wouldn’t be in for a few days.

By the third day after the surgery, Jacob decided it was time to get Grace out of bed and walking around a little bit. Her incision was healing nicely, and he thought she might like to at least lie on the settee in the living room for a while for a change of scenery.

“Good morning, darling,” he said, poking his head up from his pallet on the floor. “How would you like to come out to the parlor this morning?”

Grace dragged her eyes open and turned her head toward him without lifting it from the pillow.

“No fanks, Papa,” she murmured and closed her eyes again.

Her face was flushed, and her breathing was rapid and shallow. A pillar of ice shot down Jacob’s spine, and he leapt to his feet. He threw back her blankets and checked her incision. Pink and healing, just as it should be, but a quick graze of her forehead confirmed a fever. His stomach wrenched into a knot.

“No,” he moaned. “Please, no. Not again.” He put his hands on his knees and drew a few deep breaths. “Don’t panic, don’t panic,” he said softly. “It’s likely nothing. Young children often run fevers. It’s one of the things they do best.”

He was still bent over when Claire opened the door and stuck her head into the room.

“Thought I’d make up some johnnycakes,” she said. “How many do you—” She threw the door fully open and rushed to Jacob’s side. “What’s happened?” she asked, her eyes darting between Jacob and Grace.

Jacob blew out a long breath and straightened. “She’s a little feverish.”

Claire stepped around him to Grace’s side and laid a hand on her forehead.

“Don’t feel too awful. D’ya think it’s serious?”

Jacob spoke with more optimism than he felt. “Of course not. Probably just a mild reaction to the chloroform.”

Claire opened her mouth, but Jacob grabbed her elbow and led her to the door.

“We’ll be back in a moment, Gracie,” he said. “I just need to help Claire get some cornmeal out of the cellar.”

He led Claire all the way to the kitchen to be sure Grace wouldn’t overhear and become frightened.

“Her incision is healing properly, but fever is one of the first symptoms of septicemia,” he said.

The pupils in Claire’s eyes dilated. “Ain’t that what ki—” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

“That’s what killed Eleanor,” Jacob said, finishing the statement for her.

“Père, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Jacob waved his hand. “We can’t focus on that right now. I need to figure out how Grace contracted it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It can’t have been from the surgery. If it were, the incision would be inflamed.” He paced the length of the kitchen. “But the appendix hadn’t ruptured, either.” He stopped and looked at Claire. “Or had it?”

Claire shrugged.

“There could have been some miniscule tears I didn’t see while I was operating,” Jacob said. “Where’s the refuse from a few days ago?”

Claire’s shoulders hunched. “At the dump by now. Zeke came by in the refuse wagon and hauled it away yesterday morning.”

Jacob made a moue of annoyance. “It would have been decomposing by now anyway,” he said, grumbling. “Probably wouldn’t have found any answers there.” He drew in and blew out a puff of air. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do. Septicemia happens sometimes, but the good news is that it didn’t come from the surgical site itself. I’ve seen children recover from fully burst appendixes, and if Grace’s did rupture, it certainly didn’t rupture all the way. She can fight through this.”

Claire squared her shoulders, a look of determination on her face like she was lining up alongside a beloved commanding officer. “What can I do?”

Jacob thought back to Virginia City and the young Chinese druggist who had sold him the medicines that nursed Claire and Will back to health. They hadn’t worked for Eleanor, but maybe they would for Grace. “We need sassfras. And more willow bark.”

Claire nodded. “I’ll be back before you can say ‘Jack Robinson.’” She spun on her heel and tore out of the kitchen. Only seconds later, Jacob heard the front door open and slam closed.

“All right,” he said to the empty kitchen. “Let’s fight this.”

He was mopping Grace’s forehead with a cool rag when Claire returned, much sooner than seemed possible. Her face was flushed and sweat dampened the hair along her forehead. She held up a small paper bag.

“I got it,” she said, panting. Jacob sent her to the kitchen to brew teas from both. After coaxing Grace to drink both beverages, Claire caught Jacob’s eye.

“Now what?” she said.

“Now we wait.”