“Katie?”
“Katie Napier. She takes care of what ails us. Knows her herbs and such real good, and she’s delivered more babies than I can count.”
The door jingled again.
“Mornin’, Frank.”
John turned toward the door and the woman who had spoken. Clear gray eyes flashed quickly at him, then smiled. The lips smiled with a little less enthusiasm, but then, it would have been inappropriate for a lady to smile at a man she didn’t know. A tiny freckle marked the top of one cheek, providing the only imperfection he could find in her otherwise flawless complexion. She wasn’t classically pretty like the debutantes of New York, but there was a wholesomeness about her that seemed to fit with this place.
“You’re in luck, Doc. This here’s our Katie,” Frank said.
Katie allowed her smile to warm, and a tiny dimple made an appearance at one side of her mouth. “Did Frank say you’re a doctor?”
“Yes. Keffer. John Keffer.” He wasn’t sure what to do or why he was at a sudden loss for words. No bigger than a minute, in her worn coat, her dark hair pulled back in a simple bun—she wasn’t someone he’d normally give a second glance, but her presence was imposing for some reason. Probably because Frank had said her name like she belonged to them.
“I’m Katie Napier.” She offered her hand, and he wished she hadn’t. This tiny woman was the local healer and chances were they were going to do battle. Touching her made it more personal somehow. He
shook her hand feeling like a boxer who’d just entered the ring. Only his opponent didn’t realize that a battle had been joined.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, but time would tell on that.
“Katie?” One of the men by the stove spoke to her. “You got anything for a cough? My boy’s been coughin’ somethin’ fierce.”
“Sure, Tom. Just come up to the house, and I’ll give you some comfrey.”
Another jumped in, “Ida’s due any day now. You going to be around? I don’t want to deliver that baby myself.”
The other men laughed.
“I don’t think she’d want that either, though with this being her ninth child, she could probably deliver it herself,” Katie said with a smile.
John listened, unable to believe his ears. The men were firing questions at Katie, asking for help with him standing right there. Hadn’t these people been paying attention?
“I’m a doctor,” he said, raising his voice above the din.
The room suddenly went silent. All eyes shifted to him as if he’d just turned purple. “I have an office down the street, and I’d be happy to help any of you.”
He faced Katie. “Not saying that you don’t do a fine job. I’m sure you do, but I’m a trained medical doctor.” He looked back at the men. “From Harvard.”
Still silent.
Finally the one she’d called Tom cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’re a fine doctor.” The other men mumbled
agreeing comments, nodding their heads with much more zeal than the situation merited.
“Well,” he said, hoping for a brilliant comment to suddenly pop into his head. “I’ll look forward to seeing your son in my office.” It wasn’t brilliant, but it would do.
“Sure, Doc.” Tom nodded and John felt better about his situation.
Coming to the store had been a good idea, and now that he was no longer a stranger, the recent lack of patients should end. Obviously the people around here were in need of medical attention or they wouldn’t be relying on a countrywoman and her bag of voodoo medicine. He’d better return to his office and prepare for his new patients…or adjust another diploma. At least he could be assured there were plenty of those.
“What do you think is wrong?” Grandpa didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. Grandma had that look in her eye like something needed done, and the last thing he wanted to do was something.
“I think Katie’s getting tired of doing all the work around here,” Grandma said, settling into her rocker by the fireside.
“What makes you think that?” His son-in-law, Katie’s pa, propped his feet up on the hearth, his large belly rolling over the top of his pants as he scratched his chin whiskers. Gil wasn’t a bad sort, and when it came to being worthless, none was better, but solving problems wasn’t one of his gifts.
“Well…” Grandma set her rocker in motion while she contemplated the question. “Haven’t you noticed lately how she’s gettin’ behind on her chores? The laundry’s piling up, she ain’t canned near enough to last through the winter, and this morning, she didn’t even bring me my tea.” She harrumphed. “A woman on her deathbed can’t even get tea.”
“You ain’t in your bed. Can’t you get your own tea?” Gil asked, proving Katie had gotten her brains from her mother.
The rocker stopped and Grandma glared. “I can’t
be expected to stay in bed
all
the time. Even a dying woman needs to get up now and agin’.”
Grandpa threw a glance in Gil’s direction. He’d better shut up now before Grandma skinned him. She’d worked real hard at dyin’ these last four years, and nothing riled her more than to point out she hadn’t done it yet.
“I don’t know what we can do,” Grandpa said, hoping to save Gil’s hide. “I don’t know nobody who could come out to help her. Leastwise, not without payin’ them.”
The rocker started back up. Gil was saved.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about that,” Grandma said. “Katie will be thirty years old come Thanksgiving, and she still don’t have a husband.”
“Husband?”
Gil chuckled. “She don’t even have a beau.”
“That’s my point. She needs a man.”
“Whatever for?” The rocker stopped again, only this time her gaze leveled on Grandpa. He didn’t think his question was
that
stupid.
“For younguns.”
Oh. Maybe it was.
“Besides,” Grandma continued, “if she marries, we’ll have another hand to help out around here, and once the younguns are growed, they can help out too.”
“What makes you think she’ll want to stay here if she marries?” Gil asked with a frown. “Her new husband might want to move away.”
Grandma smiled. Heaven help them. Her smile rarely was a good sign. “That’s why it’s important that
we
pick Katie’s husband.”
The walk back to the cabin was more interesting this afternoon than usual. Katie’s mind couldn’t seem to let go of her meeting with Dr. John Keffer. Such a big man. Of course, next to Katie, about everyone seemed big.
He was handsome enough with his broad shoulders and dark hair, but when his green eyes had looked into hers, they were empty inside. Like some of the life had been sucked out of him.
Katie stomped her feet against the sandstone stoop that led to the front porch of the cabin. No sense in carrying in any more dirt than necessary. The rest of her family had probably added more than their share while she was in town this morning, and far be it from any of them to sweep it back out again.
She opened the door and froze. Everyone sat in the front room, staring at her as though she might fly away. And no one immediately asked her to do anything. Something was amiss.
Grandma sat in her rocker by the fire, evidently done with dying for the day. Grandpa had a smile on his face, despite the fact that he had no food in front of him, and Pa looked as though he had no idea what was going on. Well, at least
that
part was still normal.
“Good afternoon, Katie,” Grandma said with a smile.
Uh-oh.
Katie removed her coat, hung it on a peg by the door, and debated whether to run while she had the chance. They probably wanted her to put a new roof on the cabin or clear forty acres of land, and her feet
were too tired for her to contemplate that at the moment.
“We was just talking about you,” Grandma said.
Really? Katie never would’ve guessed. “Do I want to know why?”
“Katie,” Grandma said with a shake of her head. Her admonishing tone was no doubt intended to make Katie feel guilty. It didn’t…much.
“We were talking about you because we’re worried.” Grandma sighed a little to emphasize how worried she was, before she continued. “You’ll be turning thirty next month, and we think it’s time you got yourself hitched.”
Katie’s brows shot up with enough force to spring the hairpins from her bun. “
Married?
You can’t be serious!”
She looked at Grandpa. He nodded in agreement, but most likely because he feared for his life if he didn’t. Grandma was wiry but fierce, dying or not.
“Pa?”
Pa shrugged and glanced at Grandma. He didn’t like to be put between a rock and a hard place. “Don’t you
want
a husband, Katie girl?”
Another man to cook for and clean up after didn’t sound all that appealing. “I’ve done just fine up to now. I don’t see the need.”
She headed to the kitchen. With all the thinking they’d evidently done in her absence, they were going to be hungrier than usual tonight, and supper wouldn’t cook by itself.
The fire in the stove had almost burned out, and the wood bin in the kitchen was empty, as usual. Katie
stepped out the back door, and darted to the pitifully low woodpile to grab some small logs for the fire. She returned shivering and mad, though she didn’t know why. This was the way her life had been for years and nothing had changed. Then again, maybe that was why she was mad.
“Pa?” she yelled. “We need firewood soon or we’re going to freeze to death.”
Pa ambled into the kitchen and opened the stove with a grunt. “That’s why you need a husband. There’s only so much I can do, with my back and all.” He straightened with a grimace and rubbed his back to bring home his point. “Another man would come in handy around here.”
If
that other man knew which end of an ax to use.
Katie harrumphed. She wasn’t as good at it as Grandma, but she was learning. Pa left, which was a good thing. The temptation to fix his back with the log she held was too strong to be healthy—at least for Pa.
Grabbing her mixing bowl out of the cupboard, she plopped it onto the table with more force than needed. But mixing bowls didn’t talk back, and the sound it made helped ease her ire somewhat.
Grandpa limped into the kitchen as she opened the Hoosier door to get some flour for biscuits. His knee must be hurting. Or was it his foot? It was hard to keep up with his ailments. They changed more often than he changed his socks.
“You know, Katie, a husband would be a fine addition around here.”
Must be his turn.
She worked the tin sifter of the flour bin for a moment
before she realized only a fine fluff sprinkled into her cup. Dragging a stool over to look into the top of the bin, she harrumphed again. It was practically empty.
“We’re out of flour,” she grumbled to no one in particular, but since Grandpa was there, he decided to respond.
“Why didn’t you buy some when you were in town?”
“Because we’re also out of money.” She would have to gather eggs to sell so she could get money for flour. At least it allowed for another trip to town.
“You see?” Grandpa grinned. “You need a husband.”
She didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t stop herself. “How would that help?”
“If you marry a man with means, you’ll always have money for flour and such.”
“Then I can cook all the time?”
“Exactly!”
Grandpa had better leave. That empty bowl would look mighty good turned over his bald head right now. “Would you mind fetching me some more firewood?”
“Sure, but I won’t be able to get much. My knee’s acting up today.” He hobbled out the back door with such effort that Katie would’ve felt sorry for him, if he hadn’t been limping on the other leg a moment before.
Grandma entered the kitchen, a blue shawl wrapped pitifully around her thin shoulders, and an expression so pious the angels themselves should be weeping. She dragged a chair out at the table and lowered herself into it with a heavy sigh, hooking her cane on the edge
of the table. Grandma never used her cane, but she carried it with her wherever she went, just in case she might need it.
Katie steeled herself. The first two pleas, though heartfelt, would pale in comparison to this one. The queen bee was about to make her move.
“You know, Katie, when your mama died, my heart broke in two.”
Katie softened. Grandma wasn’t fibbing about this. “So did mine.”
Grandma nodded. “She was as good a woman as ever was.” She looked up with genuine sorrow in her tired eyes. “You’re a good woman too, and I’m proud to call you my granddaughter.”
A tear stung the corner of Katie’s eye. Even though she knew her grandma loved her, it was something that was never said. Grandma hadn’t used those exact words, but it was as close as Katie would likely come to hearing it.
“You’re all the joy that’s left to me now,” Grandma continued, “and I can’t die easy till I know you’ve got younguns of your own to give you that joy in return.”
Babies.
She had to give it to her. Grandma had managed to find the one thing that would make Katie take a husband. Every time she delivered a new baby, her heart cried, first for joy, then for sadness because she had no little ones of her own. For a while she pushed it away, promising herself that she had plenty of time to have children. But lately the feelings wouldn’t leave no matter how hard she shoved.
Time was passing and God help her, but Grandma was right. “I don’t know anyone who’d want to marry me,” Katie muttered, suddenly feeling ancient.
Grandma laid a frail hand against her heart and patted with the utmost of efforts. “No need to worry, Katie girl. Grandma will take care of that for you.”
“Pa, if you don’t hurry, we’re going to be late.” Katie could hear the church bell pealing as they rushed down the street to the old frame building, but the sight of children laughing and playing in the yard allowed Katie to slow down a bit. The service hadn’t started yet.
“I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry.” Pa huffed and puffed as he walked. “We could be an hour late, and there’d still be plenty of sermon left. That man likes to hear himself talk.”
Katie secretly agreed with her father’s opinion of Reverend Stoker, but church was important to her for many reasons. It was one of the few opportunities she had to visit with the other women in the area, and once winter hit, she would be cut off from the outside world for weeks at a time. Her trips into town would be few and only be made on days when the stores were open.
“He’s just doing the Lord’s work, Pa.”
“Looks like he could do it with a few less words.”
Grandpa chuckled. “Which would you rather listen to, him or Grandma?”
Pa snorted. “I’m here, ain’t I?”
Grandma hadn’t made a trip into town since she’d started dying, and though Katie hated to admit it, it was one of the reasons she looked forward to the trip so
much herself. Grandma’s heart was in the right place, but Katie only knew that because she had the habit of clutching it whenever it looked like things weren’t going the way she’d planned.
“Katie?” Oh no, Eunice Kopp was heading her way. The old woman was as wide as she was tall, and if ever there was a walking maelstrom of disasters, it was Eunice.
“Good morning, Eunice. How are you?”
She took the polite greeting as a genuine invitation to list her maladies. “Oh, I’ve been better. My knees are giving me fits this morning.” She stopped in front of Katie and panted for a moment. “And my stomach is hurting somethin’ fierce. I don’t know if I ate some bad pork or if my liver’s needin’ cleaning. Would you have something for my liver?”
“Did you eat some sauerkraut?”
“Yep, but it didn’t help.” Eunice rubbed her belly to drive home her point.
“If you want to come up to the house tomorrow, I can give you some calamus root. That ought to help.”
“That’d be good. I need some more willow tea for my rheumatism, and I’d like to visit with your grandma anyway. How is Mable doin’?”
“Well, she still isn’t dead, but she’s working real hard at it.”
Eunice chuckled. “If anybody can do it, it’s your grandma.”
Turning toward the church entrance, Katie took the brief pause in conversation as an opportunity to head into the sanctuary. Eunice hadn’t started on her family yet, but it was only a matter of time.
“By the way…”
Oops, Katie’d waited too long.
“I was wondering if you’d pray for Tim’s mother. She’s having spells now, and it looks like her heart is ’bout to give out. His pa ain’t much better,” she added with a shake of her head over her in-laws’ distresses. Unfortunately, Eunice had a large family, and Katie knew her well enough to know she was just warming up.
“Of course I will.” Katie continued walking, praying as she went, but she’d pray about Eunice’s family later. Right now she prayed for divine intervention.
“Katie?” Rebecca Fisher called to her when she stepped into the sanctuary. Katie hurried over to speak to her as Eunice waddled on down the aisle.
Thank you, Jesus
.
“How are you today, Rebecca?”
Rebecca smiled and patted her tummy. The babe inside would be making its exit soon. “We’re doing good.” Rebecca already had three children, and Katie had delivered them all.
“I’m finishing up a quilt to give you for delivering this one, and I’ve got some apple butter in the wagon for Davy’s poultice. It worked real good. His coughin’ has all but stopped.”
“Glad to hear it. Another quilt will come in handy with winter coming.” The quilts and apple butter
did
come in handy, though Katie wished at least some of the people she doctored had money to pay with. Frank Davis wouldn’t trade apple butter for things like flour or buttons.
“Holler when you need me,” Katie said to Rebecca
as she headed toward her pew, where Pa and Grandpa had already settled in.
She’d just lowered herself when Pa looked behind him and frowned. “Who’s that feller?”
Turning toward the entrance, she spied the tall, broad-shouldered form of Dr. John Keffer. “He’s the new doctor in town,” she said, trying not to appear too interested, though the same could not be said for the rest of the congregation. A host of shoulder poking and whispers rolled across the room as all eyes riveted on the newcomer.
“He stands out like manure on a white horse, don’t he?” Grandpa said, and Katie had to agree.
No one she knew had the expensive clothing or the regal bearing that practically screamed “Big City” the way John’s did. And to make matters worse, he was alone. Or was he? A tiny hand slipped into John’s from behind, and a child hurried to meet his step.
He appeared about as comfortable as a sinner in hell, but the little angel holding his hand was already in heaven. Too far away for Katie to hear, the child gabbed a mile a minute and smiled at everybody she passed. A halo of copper curls bounced on her head as she tugged John down the aisle, searching for the perfect seat. She all but shouted when she found one.
Oh dear. Not only was that
not
the perfect seat, but it was the Pennington pew, and Gloria didn’t look too pleased about the possible intrusion. Katie hurried down the aisle to intercept, before he committed the only truly unpardonable sin…taking someone else’s pew.
“Dr. Keffer?” she said, saving his soul from hellfire, or at least from Gloria. “How good to see you again.”
John wished he could’ve said the same thing. But finding Katie Napier standing before him, all primped and polished for church, didn’t set well with his already soured morning. He hadn’t intended to bring Julia along—was determined not to, in fact—but when he’d mentioned going, she beamed and squealed for joy.
She wanted to make friends. That’s what she’d said, and John felt like a bastard for not realizing she hadn’t. So he’d endured countless questions and endless giggles as they walked to the church in hopes of making friends.
Friends.
As though that would fix anything.
“Who’s the pretty lady, Daddy?”
Pretty lady? “This is Miss Napier, Julia.”
Julia held out the sides of her pinafore and curtsied like a princess. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Napier. Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”
Katie’s cheeks flamed pink. “I—um—”
Could this morning get any worse? “Miss Napier and I only just met,” John said, trying to remove at least some of Katie’s discomfort. His own seemed to be a permanent fixture.
“That’s right. Your father and I met the other day at the store.”
Julia wrinkled her brow in earnest thought. “Are you Daddy’s friend?”
Katie glanced at him before she smiled at Julia. “I hope so.”
“You’re a girl, right?”
“Usually.” A glint of humor twinkled in Katie’s eye.
“Then you’re his girlfriend.” Julia said it as though it was the most logical and wonderful conclusion, and if it had been anyone other than Katie Napier, maybe it would’ve been. But he was about to take Katie’s place as the local healer, and he doubted she would use the word “friend” to describe him after that.
An uncomfortable silence filled the air as Katie searched for an appropriate response. Luckily, Julia could fill silence better than anyone. “Miss Napier?”
“Yes?” Katie answered.
“Could I be your friend too?”
The dimple by Katie’s mouth winked as she bestowed a smile on his daughter. “I’d like that very much. Maybe you two could sit with me, if that’s all right by your pa.” She glanced up at John for approval, as though he could refuse.
“Could we, Daddy?”
John gave his polite smile. “Of course.”
Julia’s tiny hand clutched Katie’s as the three made their way toward the front of the church and Katie’s waiting seat. A quick introduction to Katie’s father and grandfather finally left John sitting in a place he’d never expected to be again. Hypocrisy didn’t set well with him. Yet here he was, about to worship a God who’d done nothing for John except turn His back when he’d needed Him the most.
A tiny, gray-headed woman, so frail a puff of wind could swoosh her away, took her seat at the old piano at the front corner of the church. She closed her eyes, and just when John thought she’d died, she attacked the keyboard, filling the sanctuary with music…or some approximation thereof.
Soon the congregation was singing along with the unidentifiable tune, which turned out to be a rendering of “Rock of Ages.” Even though John knew the song, he remained silent—mostly because he didn’t feel like singing but partly because of Katie.
Her lilting voice drifted around him, surprising him with its purity. Not the trained vibrato of a New York opera singer, but a sweet, simple tone, void of pretense, replete with gentleness. Simultaneously soothing and aggravating him, it brushed against feelings he’d rather have left alone.
He should’ve stayed home.
The reverend stepped to the pulpit as the last note rang out in the sanctuary. Ruddy faced, and with a few extra chins, he hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his black vest and glared at the congregation.
“Brothers and sisters,” he said, chins bouncing, “there have been a few issues brought to my attention that need a fixin’. Some of the boards at the back of the sanctuary are rotting, and if we don’t fix this rot-ation soon, someone’s going to fall through.”
Rot-ation?
“I also have discovered a polecat holed up behind the privy. Took a while to notice, seein’ as how the smell kind of blended in, but I think that varmint needs removin’ before he makes his mark on our congregation.”
A few chuckles and murmurs rumbled through the room before the preacher regained their attention and warmed up for his sermon. “But now for the more serious matters.” Leaning across his pulpit, he made an arching sweep with his hand. “There are sinners
amongst us that need a-savin’, and we best pray for their souls.”
All heads bowed and eyes closed, except John’s. He bowed his head, but closing his eyes seemed like an open invitation for a sneak attack. So while the others prayed for sinners, he took the opportunity to study those around him, in particular, Katie.
She was the closest, sitting just on the other side of Julia. Her lashes fringed against her cheeks like dark feathers, and the skin beneath the feathers looked as creamy as satin. Most of the women he knew
wore
satin. None of them actually resembled it.
“Amen,” the preacher said, and John jerked his gaze away from Katie’s face.
He hadn’t intended to study her so closely, but she was an enigma, and he’d always been mighty curious. Of course if he remembered correctly, curiosity had been known to kill a few cats.
“Today’s sermon is from the book of Genesis.” The preacher held up his Bible as though the followers wouldn’t know to what book he was referring.
Bibles flipped open around the room, and pages rustled to the right passage. John checked his watch. Ten o’clock, and the sermon had already started. Not bad. At this rate, he should be home before eleven. Settling into the old oak pew, he carefully schooled his face to appear rapt with interest.
The minister rambled on about Sodom and Gomorrah, and how Lot pitched his tent toward Sodom. For some reason, the tent pitching raised his fervor, and along with it came his voice. He shouted about the wrath of God and the vengeance meted out on the sinners
in Sodom. And just when John thought he could get no louder, the preacher slammed his fist against the pulpit and yelled, “
Lot pinched his tit!
”
Suddenly the congregation quieted. Then a nervous twitter—or should that be titter?—fluttered across the room along with coughing and a blurted giggle or two.
The minister cleared his voice and said, “Lot
pitched
his
tent
.” But the damage was already done, not only to Sodom and Gomorrah, but to Lot’s tit as well.
Grandpa hurried out of the sanctuary and across the churchyard to catch Harold Crowley before he could get away. It wasn’t a difficult task—Harold and Grandpa were old friends, and
old
friends didn’t move too fast.
“How you doing this morning, Harold?” Grandpa slowed down to shake Harold’s hand.
“I’m good. Yourself?”
“Good,” Grandpa said, careful not to sound too anxious with the rest of his conversation. Harold had a big house and more money than he knew what to do with. Grandpa had thought about it for days, and if all went the way he hoped, he’d never have to work again in his life.
“I was just wondering how you’re doing, living on your own and all. It’s got to be hard without Matilda.” He shook his head with so much pity it almost brought tears to his eyes.
Rubbing his hand across his scruffy chin, Harold grunted. “It ain’t easy, but Tildy’s been gone for three years now, and I reckon I’m used to it.”
“You hire someone to do your cookin’ and cleanin’, right?”
Harold nodded.
Grandpa sighed. “What you need is a wife to tend to those things for you.”
“I don’t need no wife.”
“But if you had a wife, you wouldn’t have to pay for cookin’ and such.”
Harold frowned. “Why do you care all of a sudden if I have a wife?”
Uh-oh, Harold was getting suspicious. “I’m not saying I care, it just hit me the other day.” He pulled Harold away from the others and lowered his voice. “Don’t say nothing to nobody, but Katie’s looking to get hitched.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“I think you should marry up with her.”
At first, Harold stood in total silence; then he blurted out a laugh and a half. “I’m old enough to be her grandpa! You of all people know that.”
“Katie ain’t no spring chicken herself, and she ain’t looking for some randy pup to keep her up all night. She wants a good man who can provide for her, and one that’ll treat her right.”
Harold shook his head. “That’s foolish.”
“You sayin’ you ain’t man enough for her?” He’d known Harold a long time, and if that didn’t raise his dander, nothing would.