Chapter 11.2

December 13, 1879

Jim is still hanging on this morning. His breathing is shallow and ragged, and he is coughing from time to time. He is not bringing much up when he does cough. I don’t know if that is good or bad. I can hope that it is good.

I am going to make sure breakfast is ready for him if he wants to eat. I will make him a little fry bread to go with the soup. He kept asking for that the first time he got hurt. Maybe he will want it this time.

December 13, 1879

Second entry. Jim took a single bite of bread and one sip of water. That is better than nothing, I suppose. He is in so much pain; he does not want to move even enough to sip water. I do not blame him for that. 

When he got back to the cabin last night, and I helped him undress and get into bed, his side and back were black. He has new bruises on top of his old ones. I have never seen anything like it. I am going to start digging out the snow. I hope that I can do enough by myself to make a difference.

December 13, 1879

Third entry. Jim had another coughing fit. When he did, he coughed up quite a bit of blood again. He told me he does not want to linger and die a slow death. Jim asked me if I would kill him rather than him dying from his injuries. I told him that I would not kill him no matter what he wanted. I might carry the guilt of knowing I could have ended his suffering sooner. I could not bear the guilt of taking the life of my brother.

I am continuing to work to get the snow where I can climb out of this cabin. It is proving far more difficult for me due to my arthritis and only having one arm that works. The progress is slow going and painful for me. I know my pain is inconsequential compared to Jim’s, but it is making it harder for me to work and dig.

Now that I have rested, I am going to get back to work. I need to get us out of here. I have to at least be able to go out and get us more food. I am rationing myself, but I will not ration Jim. If he is able to eat, he needs to do so. 

December 13, 1879

Fourth entry. I have done all I can for the day. I continued to work into the night. The wind has picked up, and I can no longer see the stars. I am not much on praying, but I am doing some tonight for the first time in many years. If more snow falls, I feel we are done for. As I listen to Jim gasp for air in his sleep, I fear he might be done for no matter what I do. 

I am going to make a good fire and then try to sleep. I have been thinking a lot about that fire. It might be preferable to be taken by the cold than the alternative if I cannot dig out of this cabin tomorrow.

The cabin rocked as a bolt of lightning crashed nearby. Sara dropped the book and clasped her hands in front of her as she took deep, measured breaths, trying to slow her now pounding heart. 

“If it isn’t the deer trying to scare the crap out of me, it is the freaking storms,” Sara muttered under her breath. 

Sara exhaled deeply as she picked up the journal and found where she had left off. She was beginning to wonder if her pounding heart was from what she was reading or from the crash of thunder. Regardless of which, she took a drink from her water bottle and continued reading.

December 14, 1879

The snow came once more last night and filled in everything that we had cleared. It has filled the opening up to the roof again. I used the stove poker to break through to see the sky, and it is still snowing. I am resigned to our fate now. We will not leave this cabin alive. 

Jim is weaker this morning. He coughed up more blood when he tried to move enough to drink some water. I fear he will perish long before I do. 

My dear Sarah, how I wish things were different. If I could have saved you and our darling Timothy, I would not be here now, and neither would Jim. He is here because I needed help this year. I feel responsible for him getting hurt, and I will forever feel responsible for his death. I think that the only way he will live is if we have a miracle happen, and I gave up on those a long time ago.

December 14, 1879

Second entry. Jim woke up again. I was able to get him to drink a little water. He is pale and sweating. Every time he coughs, there is blood. I was hoping it would stop. Maybe he would have a chance if the bleeding would stop. 

I checked the snow again. It is deep enough that I could not break through it and see the sky. That makes it about two feet above the roof, I would say. I have never seen snow like this in my life. It is never ending.

December 14, 1879

Third entry. I can hear the wind blasting away outside. I have stoked the fire extra hot to try to keep the chimney clear. I have to do my best to keep Jim warm and comfortable.

Jim woke up, and when he moved this time, he passed out. He never had a chance to take a drink of water or a bite of food. He did not even have time to cough. I will be surprised if he makes it to morning.

Sara’s phone began to ring, pulling her away from the journal. She picked it up and answered, knowing it was her husband.

“Hello, Babe,” Sara said, trying to sound happy.

“Hello, my love. How are you doing? I tried to call you earlier, and the call wouldn’t go through,” Sara’s husband told her.

“Yeah,” Sara sighed. “Some wicked storms rolled through. I really didn’t expect any calls to get through today. That is why I sent you a text this morning.”

“Are you alright?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You don’t sound like it. What’s wrong?”

Sara sighed again and said, “I don’t know where to start. I have so many emotions right now. Between the storms, being alone, the journal, you not being here with me like we planned, me getting hurt, being trapped in the cabin, and any number of other things, I don’t know what I should be feeling. I feel a lot, and I don’t like it.”

“Okay, that’s a lot,” Kevin agreed. “I wish I were there and I could help you.”

“I know you do. That is one of the reasons I love you.”

“I love you too. Sorry, I have to go. Someone is waving at me from the doorway. Bye, Babe,” Kevin told her.

“Bye,” Sara replied.

Sara placed her phone on the table and looked at the time. It was lunchtime. Sara thought for a moment before opting to have lunch before going back to the journal or anything else she needed to do.