Free Emma's Gift by Leisha Kelly

himself. But he shook his head again, his voice now as cold and horrible as his touch. “Get away from me.” He shoved me back against Rosey’s leg, and she stepped away from us. The goats were crowding in again, and he let them. I pushed them back.
    â€œMr. Hammond, you got ten kids to think about! You’re cold as ice. You got to get to the house. You got to.”
    I tried to grasp his arm again, but he pulled it away from me. “I can’t go in there. Don’t you unnerstand? I can’t.”
    I stood. One goat came nibbling at my skirt, and the nanny commenced to licking at George’s boot again. He curled his legs up to him, shivering. I could see that it wasn’t his right mind, this thing that had hold on him. It wasn’t his right mind to stay out here in the hay with the goats and the cows, despairing of life.
    â€œWilametta didn’t ask to leave you this way,” I told him. “She wouldn’t want you just giving up.”
    â€œGet away from me.”
    He looked hard, vicious, and I knew he’d shove me again if I tried to touch him. There was nothing I could do to make him get up. I couldn’t wrestle a man bigger than me and carry him in the house. I couldn’t convince him, not with my rational talk. He was half crazed or more, whether from the grief or the cold or both, and not even looking on me as a friend.
    But I couldn’t let him die. I couldn’t just wait around till somebody got through, and then tell them where to find one more frozen body. Not one more.
    I’d get his coat. I realized then I should’ve carried it with me to the barn. I should’ve known I might’ve found him in here and he’d be needing it. Stupid, that’s what I was. Stupid. But I couldn’t make any more mistakes. Not now. George Hammond was all they had left.
    I’d bring blankets too. Even if he wouldn’t get up, they’d feel so good he wouldn’t refuse them. I’d bring every blanket I could find, and his coat. I’d get a fire blazing again and heat him some coffee or something to warm his insides. I’d make him come to himself. God help me, I’d make him see.
    I turned to the rickety gate, but the other cow was standing right in front of it. Two goats were trying to nibble at my skirt now, and I swatted them both away. I squeezed by the cow, and she stuck her nose against my neck and made me jump.
    I ran out of the barn and into the snow, picking up my feet high in the drifts. But my boot stuck in one, and I fell face down in the snow and stayed there for a moment, stunned. Oh, God, it would be so easy just to lay here, do nothing, and die. It would be easy, but it wouldn’t be right.
    I got myself up with tears cold on my face and pushed on to the house. I was nearly inside before it dawned on me that I should’ve been carrying in a load of firewood as I came. Stupid. Stupid. People dying on me and all I could be was stupid. I grabbed George’s coat off the floor and the blanket that was draped on the sitting room chair. I looked around the room. I should have another blanket. Maybe two. There were those in Wilametta’s room. But no. There would be more in the loft.
    I went up the ladder quickly. The loft was nothing much but bedding all over the floor. I grabbed the two closest blankets and hurried back down, too fast. One of the blankets caught under my foot and I fell, hard, from the second rung. Devil be hanged, I wasn’t going to stop though. I wrestled myself up off the floor, grabbed those blankets and George’s coat, and tore outside.
    Right away I slid off the bottom porch step and into a drift. But I wouldn’t yield to this either. I wasn’t going to lose again. I wasn’t going to give up and die or just stay here and bawl. I picked myself up all over again, brushed the snow off the blankets, and hurried as fast as I could back to Mr. Hammond.
    He hadn’t