"Picking a husband." I waved the paper with a nervous laugh. "Do you know any of these men?"
Nell approached and peered over my shoulder. "Oh, goodness. Lucas Stephens is older than your father! Not Julius, or James …" Nell leaned over to squint. "I can't read the next name. Travis Horton is seventeen, third son of a wealthy man two townships over." She stood and shook her head. "I know little about most of them, except for Philip of course."
"He's off the list for sure," I replied. "So only rich men are on this list, right?" I twisted to watch Nell make the bed.
"I expect so. You are the daughter of a wealthy man, the granddaughter of an English noble. You should marry your equal."
"What if I didn't? Do I get arrested?"
"Where do you get these notions?" Nell shot me a look. "Or are you jesting?"
"Jesting," I murmured and returned to my tea. The warm liquid was pungent and tasted bitter. "This tastes terrible, Nell." I added more sugar.
"It's meant to treat that chill you caught gallivanting around the countryside like a savage in the middle of a storm. What got into your head, Miss Josie?"
"I don't know. Father being ill is really upsetting me."
"Ah. That I understand." Concern was in Nell's voice.
"You know it might be the last day he's alive. You should tell him how you feel," I suggested.
"Bite your tongue, Josie!"
I snorted and sipped my tea. I wanted to hunt down the sheriff before he left and demand to know what he was telling John.
"Well the sheriff is gone." Nell was at the window, watching.
"Good." I think. I didn't know how to view the man who stirred my blood and somehow figured out I didn't belong. "I want to see Father again."
"I reckon you do." By my hushed sorrow, Nell didn't expect John to live long, either.
I took my tea with me and returned to John's room. "Father?" I called, knocking lightly. I pushed the door open to see the doctor with him.
"Come, daughter," John said with another of his bright smiles.
I almost sighed, reassured the sheriff hadn't tried to warn John about me. Smiling, I started to the bed and glanced at the doctor. The grim expression on his face made me miss a step.
My smile slipped. I forced it back into place and focused on the dying man whose whole life was better because I was around.
"Miss Josie, I'd like a word after I take my tea," the doctor told me.
"Of course," I replied.