Chapter 94: His Own Hand

"Open it," Carrick said.

Jonah stared at his left fist. The fresh dressing showed between his curled fingers, its edge crushed against his palm. He held his forearm out in front of him and strained until his face reddened. The fingers stayed shut.

"I’m trying."

"Can you turn your wrist?"

Jonah turned it toward the lamp. Carrick felt along the tight muscles of his forearm, then took his wrist to check the pulse. He pressed a thumb briefly against the exposed fingertips.

"Any pain?"

"Where you cut me, a little. Mostly it’s just tight."

Carrick checked the warmth of the fingers against those of Jonah’s right hand. "Bend your elbow."

Jonah obeyed. The fist moved with the rest of his arm, clenched as firmly as before. He pulled at his little finger with his good hand and stopped when Carrick told him not to disturb the dressing.

Severin moved closer in case Jonah’s arm jerked. Jonah kept staring at his fist, trying to open it.

Then the fingers began to loosen. The smallest straightened first. By the time the others followed, Jonah was breathing hard. He spread them over the folded towel and watched them settle.

"Did you let go?" Carrick asked.

"No. I was trying to open it the whole time."

Carrick turned Jonah’s hand toward the light. The dressing had shifted, but no blood showed through. He eased the cloth into place again.

"Will it do that when I’m holding something?" Jonah asked.

"I don’t know yet."

Jonah glanced toward Sarah. "What about when I’ve got one of the little ones?"

"Don’t pick them up for now," Carrick said.

Sarah stayed beside the table. When Jonah lowered his arm, she supported his elbow with one hand and eased the sleeve over the dressing with the other. Her wrist rested across his open palm as she pulled the cuff toward his knuckles.

His little finger moved.

Sarah kept working the sleeve, tugging it another inch. Jonah looked down, then tried to take his hand away.

"Sarah. Move your arm."

His fingers closed around her wrist.

She looked at him. "Jonah?"

"Get your arm out."

Sarah pulled back. His thumb pressed into the inside of her wrist, and the other fingers tightened against the bone. She caught his sleeve with her free hand, trying to lift his grip away.

"Stop," she said, louder.

"I can’t." Jonah took hold of his left forearm with his right hand. His wrist twisted as he tried to open the fingers, making Sarah stumble against the table. "Carrick, get her loose."

Severin moved to Jonah’s left and caught his forearm before it twisted again. The strain pulled across the burn on Severin’s right forearm. He shifted his grip and braced Jonah’s elbow against the table edge.

"Keep your arm there," he said.

Jonah tried. The muscles beneath Severin’s fingers remained taut.

Carrick moved Sarah’s free hand aside so he could reach the trapped wrist. "Don’t pull away. Bring your arm toward him."

She pushed inward a little, and the pressure eased enough for Carrick to get a thumb beneath Jonah’s smallest finger. He worked carefully at its base. Jonah gave a hoarse sound when the movement tugged the fresh dressing, but held his arm where Severin had put it.

The little finger lifted a fraction and closed again. Sarah’s face was pale. She stood with her knees against the table, her trapped arm pulled awkwardly across Jonah’s chest. Severin could see shallow crescents forming beneath the fingers.

Carrick tried again, this time drawing the little finger away while Severin kept Jonah’s wrist from turning. The remaining fingers began to slacken before he had freed the first.

Sarah pulled her arm out as soon as there was room and retreated two steps, cradling her wrist against her stomach. Jonah reached toward her with his right hand, but she was already beyond him. He stopped, his good hand hanging between them.

For several seconds Carrick watched Jonah’s left hand. It remained open. He checked Sarah next, feeling lightly along her wrist and asking her to move each finger. She moved them all.

Deep red impressions marked her wrist where Jonah had held her, and swelling was beginning beside the thumb. Sarah rubbed her palm. "It’s tingling." Carrick asked her to leave it alone.

"Can you feel this?" he asked, touching two fingertips.

"Yes. It stings."

He wrapped her wrist loosely with a clean strip of cloth. "Keep it supported. I’ll check it again once the swelling settles."

Jonah had not moved from the table. "Sarah."

She glanced at him but did not come closer.

"I didn’t mean to."

"I know." She looked back down at the cloth around her wrist. "Does it hurt when it happens?"

"Not much. I can feel the arm pulling." Jonah swallowed. "I can see it. I just can’t make the bloody thing stop."

Carrick checked Jonah’s dressing once more. "I want you here tonight. I need to know if this happens again and whether the numbness changes."

Jonah looked toward the door. Beyond it someone called for help with a cart. He listened until the wheels passed.

"Don’t bring the children here," he said to Sarah.

She raised her head. "They’ll want to see you."

"Tell them I’m staying here."

"For how long?"

"I don’t know. Until I can hold them safely."

"You wouldn’t have to pick them up."

"Look at your wrist."

She looked down. Her fingers worried at the edge of the cloth until she made herself stop.

"I can stay," she said.

"You should go home."

"I’m not leaving you alone."

He opened his mouth as though to argue, then looked at his left hand on the towel. Sarah dragged a chair beside the table and sat down. She kept her injured wrist in her lap.

Carrick cleared the uncovered knife and probes from the nearby tray. He told Jonah to call out if his fingers moved again and asked Leo to have someone stay within hearing while he attended to Ruth.

Elspeth came over from Ruth’s cot. "You’ll have to stay off the boats. If there’s a rescue call, you stay here."

Jonah kept his open hand on the towel. "I won’t go out."

Sarah reached toward him with her uninjured hand. He waited until she took his right.

"We’ve got weather coming," Jonah said to Elspeth.

"I know."

"If they sound the call, who goes in my place?"

"I’ll send someone who knows the outer rocks."

Elspeth waited a moment, then went to the door. Leo followed, and Severin came after them.

Outside, the wind had begun to lift grit from the path. Earlier the sea had broken below the lower ledges. Now the spray reached the upper stone and spread across the path.

At the landing, a pair of fishermen were hauling a small boat higher onto its rollers. A third man had both arms wrapped around the bow rope, his heels scraping over wet rock. Elspeth sent two more hands to them before the hull could slip back.

"Higher," she called. "Get her beyond the second mark."

The men shifted their purchase. Severin took a place beside them, letting the fisherman nearest the stern tell him when to haul. The cut below his knee pulled as they worked over the uneven stone. Once the keel passed the mark, they chocked the rollers and moved on to the next boat.

Islanders cleared nets from the exposed rails and brought down spare line. Elspeth sent a boy to fetch the men who watched the outer approach.

Leo stayed beside her. When she asked for two of his people to help shift a heavy line, he called Rafael across.

Rafael joined Severin at a pile of wet rope. He took one end of the coil in his left hand, and Severin took the other in his right. They carried it to the post Elspeth had indicated.

From there Severin could see the Vigilant Gale below the quay wall. A sailor was securing a timber brace alongside the patch over her earlier damage. The swell pulled the cutter against her mooring lines.

Frank Cooper was on deck, checking the work and calling for the loose gear to be brought inboard. In Finch’s place, another sailor took his instructions at the damaged steering gear.

Elspeth came past with a coil over one shoulder. "Frank decides whether she can go out. No one rushes him."

Leo nodded. "Agreed."

An islander brought a covered chest of medical supplies. Elspeth checked the cloth and splints, then sent him back for the dressings Ruth would normally have packed without being asked.

Severin helped Rafael lay out the next length of rope, guiding it with his right hand to spare his torn left fingers.

Beyond the landing, the swell hid the base of the outer rocks whenever a wave struck. Experienced fishermen left unfinished work and gathered near the shore. Elspeth sent two up to the lookout and another pair to clear the approach for a returning boat.

Severin followed the direction of her pointing hand. Low cloud had narrowed the view across the water. He could distinguish a pale strip of foam beyond the rocks, but little farther.

A man came running down from the lookout. He had no coat, and the wind pressed his wet shirt against his ribs. He took the last steps too quickly and caught himself against the post where Severin had left the rope.

"Two boats still out," he told Elspeth. "We counted again."

"Which two?"

He named them. Severin did not know either vessel, but Elspeth turned at once toward the outer approach.

"Seen either?"

"One. She’s coming in from the west. Sail’s torn and she’s making poor headway. They’ll have trouble with the rocks if the swell rises any more."

Elspeth pointed to the crews she had stationed by the landing. "Get the long lines ready. No one goes into the water without me telling them."

The men hurried toward their positions. Severin took a nearby coil and waited for the fisherman beside him to show where it belonged.

"And the second boat?" Elspeth called to the lookout.

The man shook his head.

"She should’ve been home hours ago. No one’s seen her."