B stood beside her, his face showing every hour of a sleepless night. Doc Morrison's here, he said quietly, came at first light like he promised. How is she? Fever broke about an hour ago, Eliza said, her voice from disuse and emotion. She woke up, asked for water, managed a few sips.
I think I think she's going to be all right. Something that might have been a sob caught in Bose's throat, but he swallowed it back. You stayed all night. I told you I would. James said you barely ate.
That you've been up here for almost 24 hours straight. Your daughter needed me," Eliza said simply. "That mattered more than sleep or food. " Doc Morrison appeared in the doorway, then, his medical bag in hand. He examined Meera with efficient movements, his grizzled face betraying nothing until he'd completed his assessment. Finally, he straightened and turned to them with the first hint of a smile Eliza had seen on his craggy features.
"She'll live," he pronounced. "Feevers broken, which is the biggest hurdle. She'll need rest for the next week or so. Light foods, plenty of fluids. Keep her in bed even after she starts feeling better.
Scarlet fever is tricky and you don't want to relapse, but barring complications, she'll make a full recovery. Bose's knees seemed to buckle slightly, and he reached out to steady himself against the door frame. Thank God, he whispered. "Thank God. Thank Miss Morland here," Doc Morrison said, packing up his instruments.
Most folks wouldn't have known what to do or wouldn't have had the stamina to do it for so long. She saved your daughter's life, Mr. Thatcher. No question about it. He left them with instructions and another vial of willow bark extract, warning them to watch for the telltale rash that would confirm his scarlet fever diagnosis.
After he'd gone, Bo and Eliza stood on either side of Meera's bed, watching the little girl sleep peacefully for the first time in 24 hours. I don't know how to thank you, Bo said finally, his voice thick with emotion he was trying hard to control. There aren't words big enough for what you did. I didn't do anything special, Eliza protested. I just I stayed, that's all.
That's everything, Boed. He turned to look at her fully, and Eliza became suddenly aware of how she must look. Hair falling out of its braid, dress rumpled and stained with sweat and water, dark circles under her eyes from exhaustion. You could have left this to the boys and me. You could have kept your distance, protected yourself from getting sick, too.
But you didn't. You stayed with her all night, fought for her like she was your own. She is mine, Eliza said, the truth of it settling into her bones as she spoke. Maybe not by blood, but by choice. I chose her bow.