Winter Kitten, Part 1

Elizabeth Parker looked out the window for the umpteenth time in five minutes. Snowflakes clung to the corners of the small panes of glass. Outdoors, they whirled in dense gusts to form crazily spinning curtains.


She wiped her hands on her apron and went to sit next to her daughter's kitchen bed. The wood stove smoked just a bit, but the iron radiated heat, making the kitchen the warmest room in the small cabin.


Elizabeth rested her hand on Emma's burning forehead. She put a cloth into a basin of cold water, wrung it, and wiped the beaded sweat from the girl's forehead and face.


She thought she heard another noise and jumped up to peer out the window once more. She could barely see the dim outline of the two horses that waited now at the hitching post. Jim and the doctor had finally arrived!


Using a ladle, she measured water from the bucket and poured it into the kettle. Then she set it on top of the hot iron stove. She was sure the doctor would like a hot drink when he was finished.


The men came into the cabin quickly and shut the door firmly against the storm outside. Jim Parker shook the snow off the other man's coat and hat before it could melt and soak into the fabric. Then he went back out to put both horses in the small barn.


"Evening, Elizabeth," Dr. McCrae said, nodding to the woman, but his eyes were only for little Emma. The little girl's face was flushed, and her breathing had a hoarse rattle.


He picked up her hand and felt the pulse in her wrist. He timed it using the pocket watch from his waistcoat. He was pulling the stethoscope from his bag when a small noise reminded him of something.


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