Breathe Again

Chapter 39

The moment Ashfield stepped into the room, he brought a tranquility Dottie desperately needed. He walked straight over to her, set his bag and hat down on the end of the bed, and quietly asked, "May I hold him?" Within moments of having him in his arms, he turned to Louisa who stood wringing her hands. In a quiet, matter-of-fact voice, he said, "I need two bowls of boiling-hot water, please."

Louisa nodded, "I've had water boiling since Sterling left to fetch you; I'll bring some up right away." She hurried from the room, practically running to the stairs and down to the main level of the barn.

Ashfield turned to Dottie and gave an encouraging smile, "We're going to use a trick my mother used with my little brother. He often had breathing problems growing up." He studied Elliot whimpering in his arms, noting the worrisome shade of blue coloring his mouth again. "That's our biggest concern for the moment."

Dottie wiped tears from her cheeks and nodded.

Louisa hurried into the room with two bowls stacked in the crook of one arm and a kettle of boiling water dangling from her other hand.

Moving Elliot to his shoulder, Ashfield went to his bag and directed Louisa on what he wanted her to do with the water and the bowls. He removed a brown glass vial and turned to Sterling, "I need a thick blanket. Will you find me one?"

"What about the ones on either of the beds?"

Ashfield glanced at them and shook his head, "No, afghans won't do. They must be thick, a quilt perhaps if any survived the fire?"

Dottie pointed to her father's old steamer trunk in the far corner of the loft by her mother's bed. "In there, there should be a patchwork quilt that'll do."

Sterling gave her a solemn nod and found the quilt in question. Tucking it under his arm, he returned to Dottie's bed just as Ashfield handed Elliot back, "I need you to hold him face down across you lap...like so..."

Kneeling on the floor in front of her, Ashfield took one of the empty bowls and filled it halfway before adding three drops of the aromatic liquid in the brown glass vial, then put the bowl directly below Elliot's face and added a bit more water.

Standing, he took the quilt from Sterling and draped it across Dottie's back, sides, and over her head, holding the remaining edge over both her and Elliot like a canopy. The steam from the hot water rose in thick, curling wisps, heavily scenting the air with the minty-honey smell of eucalyptus.

When the steam dissipated from one bowl, another bowl replaced it with fresh boiling water and more of the eucalyptus concoction. Time seemed to stand still until at last Dottie noticed a change in Elliot's breathing.

Ashfield motioned Sterling over to take his place incorrectly holding the blanket and knelt to have a listen to Elliot's lungs.

Dottie held her breath until Ashfield met her eyes with a small smile and a nod, "I believe it's working. There's less blue discoloration around his mouth, and his breathing isn't quite as labored as when I arrived. Just a bit longer and he should be more comfortable." He looked up at Sterling, "If you continue to hold the quilt, I'll take a look at his leg and see what more I can do to help him."

Louisa monitored the bowls, replacing the liquid when it cooled. Dottie kept a soothing palm upon Elliot's back, observing each breath that slowly came easier than the last.

Ashfield palpated the swollen and irritated area of the leg, murmuring his apologies when Elliot squirmed and began crying again. He worked quickly upon determining it was, in fact, a bite mark and not something else creating the problem.

Reaching into his bag once more, he withdrew a small, fat tub and uncorked the opening. The substance within had a pleasant odor, even though it was just as strong smelling as the other's he used. He reached a finger in and took a small dollop then spread the greenish ointment liberally over the affected area of Elliot's leg.

Taking a cloth bundle from his bag, he opened it to reveal several varying sizes of deep-green basil leaves. Ashfield placed two medium-sized leaves over the ointment, then gently wrapped Elliot's leg in a bandage to keep it in place.

"What was that ointment you put on him?" Louisa asked, peering over Ashfield's shoulder.

He finished tying off the bandage and stood, bumping into her. He gripped her elbow to steady her and put the bottles on the bedside table. "It's a mixture of crushed basil, honey, and a few other herbs." He looked at the bowl and gave a reassuring smile to Dottie. "I've found it to work quite well with spider bites like that of the black widow. I've used it myself a time or two."

The next hour and a half quietly passed as they rotated the bowls when needed. When Louisa changed the bowls for the fifth time, she quietly asked, "Who taught you to make all of the medicine's you use, Lawrence?"

Ashfield knelt to listen once more to Elliot's chest, "My mother. She inspired me to become a doctor. Her father was one and often had her assist him when she was younger. He died before I ever met him, but his work left an indelible mark upon her."

They watched with bated breath as Ashfield moved the stethoscope around Elliot's back and listened intently. He sighed and smiled up at Dottie, "Much better. He's taking nice, normal breaths and has a good, healthy pink to his skin, just as he should. I'd like you to continue to use the infused steam through the night, but I'm fairly confident the worst has passed, as far as his breathing is concerned."

Louisa exhaled and grasped Ashfield's shoulder, "Then I am grateful to both you and your mother." She bent and pressed an affectionate kiss to his cheek, "I'd like to meet her some time to thank her for raising such a wonderful and talented son."

Ashfield met Louisa's gaze with a sad smile, "She would've loved to meet you as well. Unfortunately, she died several years ago."

"I'm so sorry! I-" Louisa rushed to apologize.

"Think nothing of it, my dear," Ashfield gently interrupted, gripping her hand where it rested on his shoulder, "she'd be more than pleased to see I've used a good many of her techniques and medicine recipes with such success." His eyes said what he couldn't speak in front of the others, bringing a delightful blush to her cheeks when he winked at her.

Oblivious to the looks passing between her mother and Ashfield, Dottie rubbed a light hand up and down Elliot's back, "Thank you, Ashfield-" she swallowed, unable to continue.

Emotions overwhelmed her and lodged in her throat. Wiping the tears from her face, she gave him a teary smile and glanced up to find Sterling wiping away his tears on his sleeve.

Ashfield cleared his throat and blinked back tears. They'd almost been too late. By all accounts Elliot should have died—would have if it had taken much longer for him to get here. He'd just returned home after a long day of tending to patients suffering ailments varying from old age to broken bones and everything in between when Sterling hammered on his door, yelling for his assistance.

Panic had emanated from Sterling in waves as he rushed to explain what happened to Elliot and how he was growing worse. When Sterling mentioned his mouth appeared to be turning blue, Ashfield feared they'd arrive and find the baby past saving.

Once his emotions were under control, he stood and said with heartfelt affection, "You, are very welcome."