Chapter 88
“No good will come of this. Mark my words, no good will come of this.” Rayburn then began to pray aloud.
“You never give up, do you, Reverend?” Garrett said.
Sam took a deep breath and removed his jacket. He pulled out his knife and handed it to Garrett. “Get this clean as you can.”
It was crowded in the wagon bed, with Polly surrounded by three women. They gazed up at Sam as he clambered in. Looking around, he assessed the situation. Polly was sweating profusely. One woman was cradling her head and wiping her forehead. Another was holding her hand and stroking her forearm. The third, Mrs. Rayburn, was rocking back and forth saying, “Oh dear, oh dear,” over and over. Sam’s decision was easy.
“Mrs. Rayburn,” he said.
She stopped rocking, and looked up at him.
“Please, go get as many clean cloths as you can find. Find some strong needles and heavy thread. Make sure the needles are clean, too.”
She left the wagon.
The woman stroking Polly’s hand looked apprehensively at Sam.