Life at the mill had become routine, but it was the peaceful kind of routine that came with hard work and family. It had been a few months since the little family at the mill had found a surprise on their doorstep in the way of a baby girl. Since that time, they had taken her in, given her a name, and made her their own. No one could have loved her more than Nate and Millie, and baby Ella had bloomed under their care. They had enjoyed her all summer, but now the weather was changing and there was a chill in the air.
It was one damp, chilly morning when Nate went to fetch their daughter from her crib that he knew something wasn't right. "Millie!" he called from the little room they had made into a nursery, the panic in his voice enough for her to know that something was wrong.
The panic in his voice was enough to rouse his wife from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth as she made her way up to the nursery to look in on him and their daughter. The familiar sound of her grandfather grumbling to himself downstairs still had her smiling as she came to his side.
"What's wrong?" she asked in her soft way, following his gaze down into the crib Eli had fixed up for them the day Ella had first arrived.
"She's too quiet and ..." Nate reached into the crib and touched a hand to their little girl's forehead, confirming his worst fears. "Millie, she's burning up!" he exclaimed, reaching further to scoop the little one up out of the crib and into his arms. "What do we do?"
Ella whined unhappily as Nate scooped her up, cuddling into his chest as Millie stretched her hand over to touch the baby girl's cheek. "I don't know," she admitted reluctantly. "When I got sick when I was little, Momma would sit out on the porch in the cold with me until I cooled down, but I don't know if that would work. We should go see Brona, I guess."
Or bring Brona to them, but that meant that one of them would have to go fetch her, and neither of them seemed willing to leave the other or Ella for too long. "You don't think ..." Nate started, nibbling at the corner of his mouth. He didn't have to say what he was thinking as his worries were written all over his face. He'd lost a baby sister once a long time ago, and he didn't want to lose Ella the same way.
"No, I don't," Millie told him firmly, frowning at the unspoken fear. "Everyone gets sick, Nate. If we didn't get sick, we wouldn't stay well." She stroked her hand against Ella's flushed cheek. "See if she'll take some milk. If she can eat, then it's not so scary a thing, right?"
Nate nodded his head. That seemed to make sense. He wrapped a blanket around Ella so she wouldn't catch a chill. "I could go fetch Brona," he volunteered, reluctant to take Ella out in the cold and the damp.
"Which would you rather do, love?" Millie asked him, always ready to bow to his wishes over hers. If they took Ella to Brona, the healer would see her sooner, but she would be out in the cold and snow while ill. If one went, and the other stayed with Ella, what happened if she got worse in the meantime"
Nate was debating these things, too, unsure which would be the best course of action, as far as their little girl's health was concerned. "I don't wanna take her out in the cold, but I'm worried, Mil. Maybe Harry will know what to do."
Millie nodded worriedly. "Bring her down to the kitchen," she told him. "Jonas just finished bringing the wood in, so we can build up the fire in the stove and make it warm. Maybe he could go for Brona instead?"
Jonas, the sixteen year old apprentice they had taken on after Ella's arrival, was almost an honorary little brother for Nate and Millie now, immensely grateful for a home and a profession in exchange for hard work.
"That's a good idea, if he doesn't mind," Nate replied, agreeably, though there was no reason to believe Jonas wouldn't be happy to fetch Brona. He had become like part of the family and was nearly as fond of Ella as they were.
"I'm sure he won't," she said confidently. "There's not much to do today anyway. Just checking on the mill - nothing to grind, far as I know." She smiled, trying to seem confident for his sake, despite the worry on her mind. "Come down to the kitchen."
Nate nodded again, trying not to worry too much. The kitchen was the warmest room in the house, and besides, they had to try and get Ella to eat something. He didn't want to assume the worst. Millie was right - children got sick all the time. Brona had once explained that they had to, so that they could grow up to be healthy. It didn't make a lot of sense to Nate, but he trusted Millie and Brona.
Leading the way downstairs, Millie paused to offer her grandfather an arm into the kitchen. Winter was always a rough time in Pax, with deep snows and increased mutant activity, but daylight was safe enough to travel in.
"I swear my bones have frost on them," Harry complained as he sank down into a seat. "Good man, Jonas, build it up!" He grinned at the boy cheerfully, glancing up at Nate. "You're looking like the weight of the world is upon you. Bad night?"
"Ella has a fever," Nate explained with a frown, not even attempting to hide his worry. Nate was the most sensitive of the three Mullen brothers, and it was in his nature to do the most worrying, but that was only because he cared so much. "Jonas, would you be able to go to town and fetch Brona for us?" he asked of the boy.
Jonas looked between the trio, his gaze lingering on the little girl in Nate's arms and the worried look on her father's face. "Soon as I get the fire going," the teenager replied. "Why isn't she crying?" he asked, curiously.
"Babies don't cry much when they're not well, lad," Harry told him, watching as Millie poured out hot coffee for the men, and packaged up Jonas' breakfast in a warm bread roll to eat on his way. "Most times they're too tired out to do much. When the crying starts again, you know they're getting better."
"That isn't very comforting, Grandpa," Millie pointed out.
"Harry, can you take Ella while I make her a bottle?" Nate asked, happy to pitch in when it came to chores, even those that were usually relegated to women.
"Sure, hand the little miss over," Harry said easily, opening his arms to take Ella onto his lap. He stroked his gnarled fingers over brow fondly. "Not feeling so good, little one" Don't you fret, you'll be better in no time!"
While most newborns had the advantage of their mother's breast, Ella had been found on their doorstep, and they'd had to make do with glass bottles and goat's milk, but so far, she'd been thriving. A wet nurse might have been the most practical solution, but wet nurses were hard to come by in the village. It didn't take but a few minutes for Nate to have prepared a bottle for Ella, since Jonas had already seen to milking the goat, as he did most mornings.
And since Ella was already nestled comfortable in her great-grampa's arms, Nate saw no reason to move her. "Would you like to feed her while I help Millie with breakfast?" he asked the older man.
"That, I can do." The old man grinned as he took the bottle, gently shifting Ella. "Now the, little one, try and eat something for us, hmm?"
Millie was pressing the hot breakfast roll into Jonas' hands. "I'm sorry to send you out so early," she apologized to the lad. "I'll save some more of breakfast so you can eat when you come back."
It was one damp, chilly morning when Nate went to fetch their daughter from her crib that he knew something wasn't right. "Millie!" he called from the little room they had made into a nursery, the panic in his voice enough for her to know that something was wrong.
The panic in his voice was enough to rouse his wife from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth as she made her way up to the nursery to look in on him and their daughter. The familiar sound of her grandfather grumbling to himself downstairs still had her smiling as she came to his side.
"What's wrong?" she asked in her soft way, following his gaze down into the crib Eli had fixed up for them the day Ella had first arrived.
"She's too quiet and ..." Nate reached into the crib and touched a hand to their little girl's forehead, confirming his worst fears. "Millie, she's burning up!" he exclaimed, reaching further to scoop the little one up out of the crib and into his arms. "What do we do?"
Ella whined unhappily as Nate scooped her up, cuddling into his chest as Millie stretched her hand over to touch the baby girl's cheek. "I don't know," she admitted reluctantly. "When I got sick when I was little, Momma would sit out on the porch in the cold with me until I cooled down, but I don't know if that would work. We should go see Brona, I guess."
Or bring Brona to them, but that meant that one of them would have to go fetch her, and neither of them seemed willing to leave the other or Ella for too long. "You don't think ..." Nate started, nibbling at the corner of his mouth. He didn't have to say what he was thinking as his worries were written all over his face. He'd lost a baby sister once a long time ago, and he didn't want to lose Ella the same way.
"No, I don't," Millie told him firmly, frowning at the unspoken fear. "Everyone gets sick, Nate. If we didn't get sick, we wouldn't stay well." She stroked her hand against Ella's flushed cheek. "See if she'll take some milk. If she can eat, then it's not so scary a thing, right?"
Nate nodded his head. That seemed to make sense. He wrapped a blanket around Ella so she wouldn't catch a chill. "I could go fetch Brona," he volunteered, reluctant to take Ella out in the cold and the damp.
"Which would you rather do, love?" Millie asked him, always ready to bow to his wishes over hers. If they took Ella to Brona, the healer would see her sooner, but she would be out in the cold and snow while ill. If one went, and the other stayed with Ella, what happened if she got worse in the meantime"
Nate was debating these things, too, unsure which would be the best course of action, as far as their little girl's health was concerned. "I don't wanna take her out in the cold, but I'm worried, Mil. Maybe Harry will know what to do."
Millie nodded worriedly. "Bring her down to the kitchen," she told him. "Jonas just finished bringing the wood in, so we can build up the fire in the stove and make it warm. Maybe he could go for Brona instead?"
Jonas, the sixteen year old apprentice they had taken on after Ella's arrival, was almost an honorary little brother for Nate and Millie now, immensely grateful for a home and a profession in exchange for hard work.
"That's a good idea, if he doesn't mind," Nate replied, agreeably, though there was no reason to believe Jonas wouldn't be happy to fetch Brona. He had become like part of the family and was nearly as fond of Ella as they were.
"I'm sure he won't," she said confidently. "There's not much to do today anyway. Just checking on the mill - nothing to grind, far as I know." She smiled, trying to seem confident for his sake, despite the worry on her mind. "Come down to the kitchen."
Nate nodded again, trying not to worry too much. The kitchen was the warmest room in the house, and besides, they had to try and get Ella to eat something. He didn't want to assume the worst. Millie was right - children got sick all the time. Brona had once explained that they had to, so that they could grow up to be healthy. It didn't make a lot of sense to Nate, but he trusted Millie and Brona.
Leading the way downstairs, Millie paused to offer her grandfather an arm into the kitchen. Winter was always a rough time in Pax, with deep snows and increased mutant activity, but daylight was safe enough to travel in.
"I swear my bones have frost on them," Harry complained as he sank down into a seat. "Good man, Jonas, build it up!" He grinned at the boy cheerfully, glancing up at Nate. "You're looking like the weight of the world is upon you. Bad night?"
"Ella has a fever," Nate explained with a frown, not even attempting to hide his worry. Nate was the most sensitive of the three Mullen brothers, and it was in his nature to do the most worrying, but that was only because he cared so much. "Jonas, would you be able to go to town and fetch Brona for us?" he asked of the boy.
Jonas looked between the trio, his gaze lingering on the little girl in Nate's arms and the worried look on her father's face. "Soon as I get the fire going," the teenager replied. "Why isn't she crying?" he asked, curiously.
"Babies don't cry much when they're not well, lad," Harry told him, watching as Millie poured out hot coffee for the men, and packaged up Jonas' breakfast in a warm bread roll to eat on his way. "Most times they're too tired out to do much. When the crying starts again, you know they're getting better."
"That isn't very comforting, Grandpa," Millie pointed out.
"Harry, can you take Ella while I make her a bottle?" Nate asked, happy to pitch in when it came to chores, even those that were usually relegated to women.
"Sure, hand the little miss over," Harry said easily, opening his arms to take Ella onto his lap. He stroked his gnarled fingers over brow fondly. "Not feeling so good, little one" Don't you fret, you'll be better in no time!"
While most newborns had the advantage of their mother's breast, Ella had been found on their doorstep, and they'd had to make do with glass bottles and goat's milk, but so far, she'd been thriving. A wet nurse might have been the most practical solution, but wet nurses were hard to come by in the village. It didn't take but a few minutes for Nate to have prepared a bottle for Ella, since Jonas had already seen to milking the goat, as he did most mornings.
And since Ella was already nestled comfortable in her great-grampa's arms, Nate saw no reason to move her. "Would you like to feed her while I help Millie with breakfast?" he asked the older man.
"That, I can do." The old man grinned as he took the bottle, gently shifting Ella. "Now the, little one, try and eat something for us, hmm?"
Millie was pressing the hot breakfast roll into Jonas' hands. "I'm sorry to send you out so early," she apologized to the lad. "I'll save some more of breakfast so you can eat when you come back."