In the ambulance, Harry finally regained full consciousness. She tried to sit up, but Fair gently kept her down.
“Where am I?”Then she put her hand to her head, wincing, feeling the tight stitches on the part of her scalp that was shaved.
“On the way home.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Here.” He held a plastic bag for her, since Everett had told him she might well throw up. She did. Not much to it except excruciating pain. She flopped back on the gurney.
“I’ve never felt so bad in my life.”
“Keep quiet, honey. You’ll feel much better tomorrow.”
“What happened?”
“You got hit over the head. Can you tell me why you were up there?”
She whispered with her eyes closed, as if that would diminish the pain: “At least one hundred thousand dollars in a green toolbox.”
He held her hand. “That’s enough for now. Do you think you can sleep?”
“Maybe. I’m dizzy.”
“Can you see clearly?”
“I can see you. Looks white out the back ambulance window.”
“Blizzard. Sleep, sweetie.”
She conked out again. He held his palm to her forehead. She was sweating a little, but he couldn’t discern a fever. A concussion doesn’t bring on a fever, but the vet in him made him want to check everything.
Once at the farm, the ambulance driver and his assistant rolled Harry into the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed. She awoke, then fell back to sleep again as all three animals sat quietly on the floor.
Fair gave the two men a one-hundred- dollar tip, reminded them to say nothing, and then wished them a merry Christmas.
With Cooper’s help, they got Harry out of the hospital shift, slid her under the covers, and walked back to the living room.
“Cooper, you go on home. I don’t think anyone is going to invade the farm in a blizzard, and Tucker will sure let me know if anyone does.”
Cooper sank into a wing chair and thought about this. “I’ll be over in the morning to take a turn. I don’t even trust leaving her alone while you do the barn chores.”
Relief flooded his face. “Thanks, pal.”
Tears formed in both their eyes again, a combination of recognizing what a near miss this was, pure physical exhaustion, and wondering what in the hell would happen next.
Cooper now struggled to get up from her chair.
“She told me there was about one hundred thousand dollars in a toolbox up there.”
Cooper dropped back down. “Damn!”
“Why the hell leave it by the walnut stand—” He stopped himself. “I think I know. Some of the monks know that stand. It belonged to Susan’s uncle. They may have seen it when they checked timber growth with him. And I expect there were some hard feelings when he didn’t leave it to the brotherhood, the old brotherhood.”
“Money can sure bring out the worst in people.The walnut stand isn’t all that far from the monastery.” Cooper rubbed her forehead with her right hand. “Ten thousand dollars on your kitchen table. How that money got here is anyone’s guess, but if Harry says there was a cornucopia up the mountain, then you know there was.”
“I brought the money.” Tucker looked at them with her deep-brown eyes.
Fair reached out to pet the silky head. “I hope whoever hit her doesn’t know we have some of the money.”
Cooper shrugged. “No way to tell.”
“Well, we know one thing more than we did yesterday: the finger points to the top of the mountain.”
“Yes, it does. Well, let me get home. And let’s hope the power doesn’t go off or there will be pipes bursting all over central Virginia.”
“You’ve got a generator?”
“Do. Hooked up just in case.”
“Good.” She pushed herself up once again. At the kitchen door,
Fair hugged Cooper and kissed her on the cheek. “I can never repay you, Coop.” “That’s what friends are for.” She hugged him back.
When she put on her coat, they both noticed some blood on the back. Fair’s coat also had blood drippings. They’d been too distracted to notice before now. “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning bill.”
“Fair, no.” She called when she made it home. Fair stoked the fire. Next he warmed special food for the animals, because they had braved this storm, too. He owed them as much as he owed Cooper.
Then he stripped and took a hot shower, which almost got the chill out of his bones, and he stoked the fire one more time. He wanted to crawl in bed with Harry, but he was afraid if he turned in the night or bumped her, he’d hurt her. He pulled out four blankets, put two on the floor at the foot of the bed, two over him, and used one pillow. The three animals cuddled with him. He fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.
Miraculously, the power stayed on.
23
Faint light shone through the windows at seven-thirty on Christmas Eve morning. Harry reached over for Fair, touched empty space, and quickly sat up. The cut on her scalp hurt. Her head throbbed.
She tiptoed to where Fair, sound asleep, was spread out. Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter snuggled with him.
She put her finger to her lips. Tucker knew that signal. Harry went into the bathroom and tried to look at her scalp in the mirror. The blood had been washed from the wound, but a little had seeped afterward. Since the wound was on the back of her head, she couldn’t see it. She picked up a washrag, wet it, and pressed it to the wound. Stung like the devil. Tears sprang up, but she kept the warm washrag there, then rinsed it out. She brushed her teeth, quite grateful that she was no longer dizzy or nauseated when she bent over. She had to laugh at her “do” and figured she’d be wearing baseball hats until the hair grew over the shaved wound.
Completing her morning ablutions, she threw on a terry bathrobe and went into the living room to rekindle the fire. The deep ash bed contained a layer of bright orange embers once she stirred it, so getting the fire up took no time at all.
Mrs. Murphy padded in. “How do you feel?”
Harry scooped up the cat, kissing her cheeks. “I don’t know how either of us got down the mountain, Murphy, but I’m so glad we’re home.”
Tucker and Pewter walked in.
“Carried you down. You can’t believe how hard Fair and Cooper worked,” Pewter informed her. “I’ve never been so cold in my life.”
“You say that every time the thermometer dips below freezing,” Mrs. Murphy teased her.
“This was worse.” Pewter hoped something good would soon appear in the kitchen.
“It was. I’m a little stiff today. And still a little tired,” Tucker admitted.
“Small wonder.” Mrs. Murphy put her paws around Harry’s neck.
“Come on.” Harry, her knees hurting although she didn’t know why, walked into the kitchen to make a hot breakfast for all of them.
Her knees hurt because she had fallen curled up, knees bent. Harry, rarely incapacitated, was surprised when anything ached.
As she looked out the window over the sink, she was greeted by a magical land of pure white, dotted with bare trees and enlivening evergreens, boughs bent with snow. Flakes still fell, a light but steady drift. The clouds were low, medium to dark gray.
She knew she’d gone up the mountain; she was trying to remember why.
She was smart enough to know she’d suffered a concussion and grateful that she perceived no ill effect other than the thumping cut on her head. Her vision was fine. She had a dim memory of throwing up in a plastic bag in the ambulance, but her stomach now felt normal. She gave a silent prayer of thanks.
Frying some leftover hamburger for the animals, she pulled out another cast-iron skillet, rubbed it with butter, and put it on a cold burner. She intended to make scrambled eggs. When she put down the mix of warm hamburger and dry food, the three animals went crazy with delight. Made her happy to see them so happy.