Within three days time, Jax’s fever had broken, but he was still weak. Brenda found out he could be quite stubborn when he was awake and somewhat conscious. He would drive her absolutely crazy, when he wasn’t delirious, in his attempts to get out of bed. He insisted he needed to get back to his regiment, and would get exasperated when he realized that he couldn’t get up because of lack of strength and the lack of clothes. After giving a half hearted struggle to get his way he would fall back asleep. Sometimes Brenda would be lucky enough to get some soup and water down his throat before he drifted off. For this she was glad, so he could get some nourishment to help him recover quickly and get to wherever he was trying to get to.
The first day that Jax was there, he had slept most of the day. Brenda had busied herself with writing a letter to the soldier’s mother. She didn’t think the lady that she grew to admire through just a few letters deserved to worry about her son. It appeared that Jax had kept in constant contact as well as he could with his family, they would probably get worried if they didn’t hear from him soon. Or worse yet his mother could get some form letter like the ones she had received informing her about her father and brother. The losing of someone you love or the not knowing of where they were was almost unbearable to Brenda. She couldn’t let another family go through what hers had, she had to inform them of where their son was, but she had to do it somehow in a way that wouldn’t tip anyone off to the fact that she was harboring an enemy soldier in her house. That’s all she needed to be forced out of her house. She couldn’t leave the place now, it was all she had left of her family. She barely had a hold of it now.
The enemy. She hadn’t thought of Jax as the enemy since she had made the decision to do everything she could to keep him alive. That’s what any decent human would do, right? But then she knew that plenty of her neighbors would have left him to die in their fields. It was pure luck that he had wandered onto her property, and not one of the other farmers around the area. Brenda could honestly say that Jax didn’t really look like the enemy, but more like an angel with his accentuated face, golden locks of hair, and the most charming blue eyes she had ever seen on a man. But what was that saying Aunt Ruby had told her? Beware of a wolf in a sheep’s clothing. She just had to keep up her guard, that’s all.
On the second day of Jax’s arrival, Brenda devised a way to get the letter to his family. It was the young neighbor boy’s, Lucky Spencer, day to go into town. He usually stopped by to see if she needed anything from town. Actually she thought Lucky usually stopped by to eat the cookies that she would always offer him. They were Aunt Ruby’s special recipe of molasses cookies. Everyone loved them, but not many could make them taste so good. That day she met him on the porch with a plateful of cookies so there wouldn’t be any reason for them to go inside the house, and let her secret patient be found out.
He came with his horse, Ginger. She was a pretty brown horse with a sweet temper. She was grateful for the drink of water that Brenda allowed her to take from the trough in the barn. After Lucky got Ginger settled, he sauntered to the porch and took two of the cookies from the platter that Brenda outstretched to him. He quickly ate them and took some more that Brenda offered again. If truth be told this was his favorite part of the trip into town, a little visit with the most beautiful girl in the town, possibly the county and not to mention eating her delicious baking. They had the normal conversation on how his family was doing and if she had heard any news about her brother lately. Apparently she had heard some news because she gave him a letter to mail in town. He questioned why it was going South, since as far as he knew she didn’t have any relations down there, but she countered that she’d heard from some cousin of a cousin that these people might have some news for her. So he took the letter, but then he wouldn’t have said no in the first place, and she knew it. When their talk was over, he stuffed the letter in the pocket of his trousers, gathered up Ginger, and rode off to town.
As soon as Lucky was out of sight, Brenda ran into the house placing the plate of cookies on the hall table outside of Jax’s room. She felt relieved that Lucky didn’t appear to him calling out for Jerry. He hadn’t called out loudly, just enough for her to know because she had been listening for it, but she couldn’t be too careful. She knew Lucky wouldn’t be a threat to her or to Jax if he found out, he was too loyal, but she didn’t want to put him in that position. Especially since he was extremely loyal to his family too, and with his father off in the war, he was the man of the house. Sixteen and the man of the house, the boy had a lot to handle on with his mother, grandmother, and baby sister. Brenda knew she couldn’t drag him into this any further than she already had. One letter wouldn’t get her into trouble would it?
The rest of the second day went by uneventfully except that Lucky stopped back on his way home to tell her that he had mailed her letter. He just barely missed one of Jax’s tirades on wanting to get up out of bed. Brenda had just gotten him settled and back to sleep when she heard the familiar call of "Miss Barrett!" from Lucky. She went out and thanked him, and wished him well on his ride home. Unfortunately she couldn’t offer him any cookies this time since Charlie, her tiger striped cat had jumped onto the table and used the platter for batting practice. Cookies and broken glass had ended up all over the floor. At least it wasn’t one of her mother’s good platters, and well the cookies. She could always make more.
During the third day she went about her housework that she had sorely neglected since Jax had come into her home. He slept more soundly that day, he barely made a delirious request. Brenda wasn’t sure if it was wishful hoping or not, but his fever felt like it had gone down. But it was the first night that she had gotten a good night’s rest, which meant that he, did too.
It wasn’t until the fourth day that she was sure that he was definitely on the mend. It was that morning that he was wide-awake before she was. She awoke to purely sane, but insanely beautiful blue eyes staring straight at her. Should she be afraid at the intensity that they were looking at her with or relieved that he appeared to be healing?