Forever Ashley (15 page)

In the center of the room was a table with four ladder-back
chairs. Centered on the table were two silver candlesticks, a small lamp, and a
pewter pitcher.

Ashley picked up one of the candlesticks, marveling at its
excellent craftsmanship.

“A gift from Paul,” Aaron remarked.

“It’s priceless,” she murmured, carefully returning the
candlestick to its resting place.

Aaron was busy now trying to coax a fire from some kindling
taken from a small box beside the fireplace.

“You’ve been gone several days. What do your patients do
when that happens?”

“It doesn’t happen often.” He rose, dusting off his hands.
“But I have been remiss the past two days. I must see to a few this afternoon.”

“Do I have to go with you?”

“If I permitted you to stay here in the house, could I trust
you?” His gaze caught hers, and she made no attempt to look away.

“Yes...I would do as you say.”

“You will do nothing to draw attention, either to me or to
you?”

“No, I promise.”

“Then I will allow you stay. I thought mayhap you’d like a
bath.”

“Oh.” She wilted with relief. “I would love a bath.”

His gaze grew softer. “I will bring in the tub and fill it.
We will heat water to temper the cold.”

“That would be heavenly. May I help?”

“No, ’tis man’s work.”

She smiled as he turned to leave. “I shouldn’t be gone long.
The middle door leads to a large pantry. While I’m away, you might heat some
pottage. When I return, we could have some with bread and quiddany.”

“Quiddany?” Ashley winced.

“Yes...a quince marmalade. Mrs. Bandy keeps me supplied with
small foodstuff.”

“Mrs. Bandy? A friendly neighbor?” Ashley bantered with
lifted brow.

“An old widow lady.” He winked. “She cleans occasionally and
bakes. Makes a fine jumbal.”

“Jumbal,” Ashley repeated.

“A small sugar cake.”

“Like a cookie!”

“Mayhap,” he said patiently.

“I’ll find everything, don’t worry.”

“The pantry is well stocked. Some liberty tea would be
welcome and there may be a puffet or two, if you’re too hungry to wait for my
return.”

“Right. A puffet.”

He grinned. “Another small cake.”

“Oh.”

“Will you be safe while I’m gone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe safer than I would be if you were
here,” she countered, recalling her earlier fright at the outhouse.

His features softened. “I will not hurt you.”

“I know.” She smiled as the invisible bond between them grew
stronger.

“You could come with me,” he suggested.

“No, I’ll wait here, thank you.”

While he was gone, she puttered around the kitchen,
exploring the pantry and cooking utensils.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a huge
copper tub, which he set in front of the fireplace.

Ashley smiled as she viewed the tub. Any antique dealer
would give his eyeteeth to have it!

“I’ll take the piggin and begin filling the tub, while the
pot of water heats.” Aaron reached for the small wooden pail with an erect
handle. “There’s some soft soap that Mrs. Bandy provides. You’ll find it easier
to lather than the bar,” he told her with a teasing glint in his eye.

“If I remember,” Ashley returned saucily, “I didn’t get much
of an opportunity to try.”

“No, and you would have had considerably less if Paul hadn’t
arrived.” He gave a decidedly wicked chuckle when he saw her cheeks turn pink.

After filling a large pot, he set it on a trivet in the
fireplace, then made the trip to the well several times to fill the tub.

Finally it was half full, and Aaron rolled his sleeves down.
“I must see about my patients.”

Clasping her hands behind her back, Ashley walked to the
door with him. She suddenly felt very domestic, as if they were married and she
was seeing him off to work. “Will you be gone long?”

“I hope to return by early afternoon.”

After helping him into his coat, she brushed away an
imaginary speck of lint. “I’ll take a bath, then fix us something to eat. By
then you should be back.”

He turned, and their eyes met again. “You are to be alert.
Do not open the door to anyone.”

“I won’t.”

He started off the porch, but her softly spoken request
stopped him. “Aaron.”

Pausing, he said quietly, “Yes?”

“You be careful too.”

While the water was heating, Ashley explored the downstairs
of the house. She smiled as she viewed the carnage of bachelor living: dishes
scattered randomly throughout the house, a pair of muddy boots in the drawing
room, a discarded pair of blue socks with holes in both heels. What Aaron
Kenneman needed was a wife, she decided.

She picked up one of the five shirts that was draped over a
chair and hugged it close to her, drinking in his familiar scent. The dream was
becoming painful now. She was falling deeply in love with this strange man, and
she was powerless to stop it. Her feelings were much stronger than she had ever
experienced before, yet she knew that he wasn’t real. When she awoke, he would
be gone. The thought was so frightening that Ashley quickly forced it aside.

A knock suddenly sounded at the door, startling her.

Swiping guiltily at the tears that had sprung to her eyes,
she hurried to answer it. Her hand was on the latch when Aaron’s earlier
warning came back to her. Do not open the door to anyone.

“Aaron?” a woman’s voice called. The knock sounded again.

Ashley waited, hoping whoever it was would go away.

“Aaron? Are you sleeping? Wake up, sleepyhead!”

Deciding that it was a friendly caller, Ashley unlatched the
door and peeked out through the crack. “Dr. Kenneman isn’t here,” she murmured.

A pair of the most beautiful amethyst eyes looked back at
her. “Oh? Where is he?”

“Making house calls.”

The stunning young woman smiled. “And who might you be?”

“I’m...just visiting.” She was not to call attention to
herself or to Aaron.

“Oh? A niece, mayhap?”

“Yes...that’s it. A niece.”

“Well, tell Aaron that I called.” The woman extended a
basket that contained two loaves of bread and a jar of jam. “Tell him I’m sorry
to have missed him, and I’ll return again late tomorrow afternoon.”

Ashley opened the door just wide enough to accept the
basket, then closed it again quickly.

Remembering her manners, she called through the heavy wood.
“Who should I say called?”

“Elizabeth Bandy,” came the muffled reply.

‘The widow Bandy?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll tell him.”

The dirty rat.

Chapter
Nine

Twenty minutes later Ashley settled deep into a tub of hot
water. For several minutes she lay soaking away the weariness and grime of the
past few hectic hours.

It was close to an hour before she could find enough energy
to scrub her hair. Dipping cups of water from the water pail, she rinsed her
hair clean, then forced herself out of the water that by now had grown cold.

After washing her clothes in the remaining hot water, she
hung them to dry near the fireplace. Aaron had provided her with a thick robe,
though it was big enough to wrap around her twice.

She was thinking about brewing the tea when another knock
sounded at the door. Frowning, she set the teakettle aside. Aaron had said not
to answer the door for anyone.

The knock came again, more urgent this time. “Doctor!
Doctor?”

After sneaking to the window, Ashley pulled the curtain
aside and saw a woman and a young girl standing on the porch.

Ashley dropped the curtain back into place and walked to the
door. If it was another one of Aaron’s friendly “widows,” she was going to
scream.

Opening the door, she smiled. “May I help you?”

“The doctor...would he be in?” the woman asked.

“No, I’m afraid not. He should be back soon though.” The
young girl accompanying the woman suddenly groaned and doubled over with pain.
“Ohhh...do something, Momma!”

“Oh, dear,” the woman fretted. She began to wring her hands
as the gangly girl dropped to her knees, her moans becoming louder.

“What’s...the trouble?” Ashley asked hesitantly. The girl
seemed to be in a good deal of pain.

Glancing about, the woman leaned closer, whispering. “It’s
her monthly miseries. ‘Tis worse than usual.”

“Oh.” Ashley winced as she watched the girl writhing in pain
at her feet.

“I thought the doctor might know what to do,” the woman
confided. “We’ve walked such a long ways.”

“Well.” Ashley bit her lower lip. Did she dare offer the
girl one of the Midol tablets she had in her bag? No, she couldn’t. Aaron would
kill her. Literally. “Maybe a cup of tea would make her feel better.”

The girl turned green at the thought, but the mother pulled
her to her feet and urged her through the doorway. “Thank you, missy. My
daughter would appreciate it.”

“Do you live nearby?” Ashley asked as she showed the women
into the kitchen.

“Oh, just a few miles, but ’tis a brisk walk,” the woman
added. She nudged her daughter ahead of her. “I’m Amelia Briar, and this here
is my Sarah.”

“I’m Ashley Wheeler.” She paused, glancing around the
unfamiliar kitchen helplessly. “About the tea,” she said apologetically. “I’m
not sure how to brew it.”

“You don’t know how to brew tea?” The woman looked at her
strangely.

“No...not liberty tea. I can make Lipton okay,” she added,
in case the woman thought she was completely deficient.

The woman edged toward the kettle. “I can make liberty tea.”

“Great!” Ashley hurried to get the hot water. “Exactly what
is liberty tea?”

The woman looked at her oddly again. “Why...it’s the stalks
and leaves of the four-leafed loosestrife.”

Ashley paused, glancing back at her. “Oh, sure...I knew
that.”

“We brew it so that we don’t have to buy imported tea.”

“Yes, I’d just forgotten.”

The woman bustled about the kitchen and in just a few
minutes had three cups of hot tea on the table. The young girl pushed hers away
and lay her head down on the table, moaning.

“Say, this isn’t bad,” Ashley commented as she took a sip of
the hot brew.

“You related to the doctor?” Mrs. Briar asked, eyeing the
large robe Ashley was wearing.

“No—”

Sarah’s moans grew more assertive.        >

“Oh dear, oh dear. Will the doctor be long?” the woman
fretted.

“I’m not sure.” Ashley stood up. “Excuse me a moment.” She
left the room and returned in a few minutes lugging her canvas bag. After
setting it down on the table, she began to rummage through the contents until
she found the bottle she wanted. She removed the cap, then spilled two of the
tablets into the palm of Sarah’s hand. “These will make you feel better in no
time at all. Just swallow them with a little water.”

The woman peered anxiously over Sarah’s shoulders. “Are you
a doctor?”

“No, but this will help. I promise.”

After dumping four more tablets out on the table, Ashley put
the cap back on the bottle. “In another four hours, take two more, then take
the last two in another four hours. By then you should be feeling much better.”
Sarah glanced at her mother, mutely seeking permission to take the pills.

“There’s nothing in it that will hurt her,” Ashley assured
Mrs. Briar.

The woman nodded hesitantly, though Ashley could see she
wasn’t convinced that she was doing the right thing.

As the three women waited for the pills to take effect, Mrs.
Briar talked about this neighbor or that one and about the lack of tea and
sugar since the colonies had refused to accept English imports. Thirty minutes
and three cups of tea later, Mrs. Briar finally pushed her cup aside. The color
was coming back into Sarah’s cheeks, and she seemed to be feeling better now.
“Well, this has been pleasant, but I have a washing that won’t get done without
me, and the mister will be wanting his supper.”

“Are you feeling better now, Sarah?” Ashley asked as she
walked the two women to the door.

The girl seemed surprised that someone would think to
address her directly. She nodded shyly. “All me hurtin’s almost gone.”

“Why, that’s a wonder if I ever saw one!” Mrs. Briar
exclaimed. “‘Tis a miracle, for sure!”

“I’m glad I could help,” Ashley said warmly as she saw the
women out the doorway. She watched them as they struck off down the road toward
home, still exclaiming over the miracle.

For the next half hour Ashley busied herself emptying the
tub and dragging it back outside where it was stored.

Afterward, she inspected the contents of the pantry, lifting
lids and unwrapping various items until she ran across a container that faintly
resembled soup. It must be the pottage Aaron had mentioned, she decided, and
poured it into a pot that she hung over the fire to warm.

She went back for the small cake, a tin of butter, and a
loaf of bread wrapped in cloth.

She’d just rinsed out the teacups when there was another
knock at the door.

“Good grief!” Ashley murmured as she hurried to answer it.

An old lady stood on the porch this time.

“Yes?”

“Mistress Wheeler?”

Ashley froze. She wasn’t being careful enough. Here she’d
opened the door again against Aaron’s warning. “May I help you?”

“Are you Mistress Wheeler?”

Ashley nodded hesitantly.

“Mrs. Briar said you might have something to help me.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

The woman’s hand cupped her jaw. “Got me a teeerible pain.”

“Well...the doctor isn’t here…” Ashley began.

“The pain’s been teeerible for days now. I’m not able to eat
or sleep, and what with the doctor being gone...” Mrs. Briar said,  “you’d
helped Saree with her miseries, so I thought...”

“Oh, my.” Ashley bit her lower lip, realizing that she
shouldn’t be swayed by compassion, but the woman did look terrible.
“Well...come in.”

Ashley ushered the woman into the kitchen. If Aaron heard
about her dispensing medicine, he would have a fit.

“I hopes you can help,” the woman said, still holding her
jaw with one hand. “Don’t think I can stand the misery much longer.”

Once again, Ashley rummaged inside her bag until she found
the bottle of aspirin. “Here, take a couple of these. Have you seen a dentist
lately?”

“Dentist?”

“You know, a man who cares for your teeth?”

The old woman shook her head. “No. No man cares what happens
to me teeth. I hears of such a man, but never met one,” she admitted.

Ashley poured the woman a cup of tea, then hung the pot over
the fire again.

“Mrs. Briar said you was a kindly soul,” the woman said as
she settled herself at the table. “Me name’s Constance Connors, and I’ve known
the good doctor since he was just a wee babe. Wiped his bottom many a time, I
has.” Ashley grinned, wondering what Aaron would say about the colorful
recollection.

“Never would have imagined him a doctor,” Constance mused.
"He was always such a rapscallion.”

For a half hour and two cups of tea, Mrs. Connors
entertained Ashley with tales of Aaron’s boyhood escapades.

The afternoon wore on, and Ashley thought the woman would
never leave, but finally she rose, declaring that the pain in her jaw was
cured.

“Mrs. Briar surely was right. You are a ‘miracle worker,’”
she praised lavishly as Ashley walked with her to the door. “Praise be to the
Maker!”

“It was nothing,” Ashley said modestly. “But, please, Mrs. Connors,
don’t mention a word of this to anyone.” She didn’t want rumors spreading that
Aaron had some sort of a miracle worker at his house.

“Oh, I won’t,” Constance promised, looking perkier now.

But not fifteen minutes after Mrs. Connors had scurried down
the road, there was another knock at the door. This time it was a woman with a
child in her arms.

“Mistress Wheeler? I’m Della Morton, and this here’s my
little Henry. Henry’s feelin’ real poorly.”

“I’m sorry, the doctor isn’t here,” Ashley said firmly. By
now she was put out with Constance for telling, when she’d agreed that she
wouldn’t.

“Amelia Briar said that you had things in that bag of yours
that were purely miracles,” Della countered.

“No, Mrs. Briar’s wrong. I just gave her a—” Ashley glanced
at the boy the woman was holding and frowned. “What’s wrong with little Henry?”

Mrs. Morton quickly drew the blanket away from the
flush-faced child. “My boy’s got the fever.”

Ashley drew back. “Putrid fever!"

The mother’s eyes widened. “No, just the regular fever,
methinks!”

Kneeling in front of the little boy, Ashley touched his
cheek. It was very hot. “How old are you, Henry?” she asked softly.

When he didn’t answer, Ashley glanced up at Della. “He’s
five. Had a runny nose earlier in the week and jest draggy until today. I know
it be askin’ a lot, but since Dr. Kenneman hasn’t been home for a few days, I
was hopin’ you might help me.”

“Dr. Kenneman has been very busy,” Ashley apologized.

“Can you do something for my Henry? He’s so hot. And today
he’s got a rattly cough that won’t let him rest none.”

“Oh, dear.” Ashley viewed the child worriedly.

“I know it’s askin’ a whole lot, but you can see how sick he
be,” Della coaxed.

“I don’t know if I can do anything for him.”

“If you’d jest try. Amelia said you’d helped Sarah, and I
passed Constance Connors on the road a while ago.”

“Their problems weren’t nearly as serious as Henry’s,”
Ashley explained. “He could have pneumonia or a bronchial infection. He might
need antibiotics that only a doctor can prescribe.”

The woman looked back at her blankly, and Ashley realized no
one in this century had even heard of antibiotics, nor could they know anything
about bronchitis or related problems.

“Please. Can’t you do something?” Della pleaded when Henry
dissolved into a fit of dry hacking.

Ashley hesitated, biting her lip again. “I really
shouldn’t...”

Henry’s mother moved Henry inside the house before Ashley
could stop her. Once again she rummaged through her bag and fished out the
bottle of cough medicine she’d been taking before she’d fallen into
eighteenth-century Boston. She read the directions on the bottle, then poured a
small amount into a spoon.

“Henry, you must swallow this. It doesn’t taste too bad.”

The little boy eyed the green syrup warily.

“It’s just an elixir, Henry,” Della urged. “Take it, lovey.”

Finally the boy’s lips parted, and Ashley poured the
medicine into his mouth, wiping away a drop that escaped onto his chin.

“That may make him a little sleepy, but it will help the
cough. And if you’ll crush half of this”, she broke an aspirin in two, “and
give it to him every four hours, it should help his fever.”

Demonstrating her directions for Della, Ashley crushed half
the aspirin and mixed it with water in a spoon, then coaxed Henry to open his
mouth again. “This won’t taste quite as good,” she admitted. She made a face
with him. “I should have given this to you first, shouldn’t I?” she said when
Henry shuddered involuntarily at the bitter taste.

Della cuddled her son and murmured to him soothingly.

Ashley smiled at Della. “Take him home, bathe him in
lukewarm water, and bring him back later this evening when Dr. Kenneman is
here. I’d feel more comfortable if he would look at Henry.”

“I will, and bless you for helping, missy.” Della bundled
Henry back into his blanket, then stored the bottle of cough medicine and two
aspirin in a small bag that hung from a ribbon around her wrist.

“And Della, please, don’t mention this to anyone,” Ashley
pleaded.

“Oh, I won’t. You can be sure of that, missy.”

Ashley reached back into her bag and found the roll of Life
Savers. She peeled away the wrapper and handed Henry a lemon one. “Here, Henry,
this is for being such a good patient.”

Henry looked at the funny thing she held in her palm. “Go
ahead,” Ashley coaxed. “It’s a Life Saver.”

“Eat it, Henry!” his mother demanded. “It’s a life saver!”

Henry popped the thing into his mouth as Ashley led Della to
the door and closed it after her. She leaned against it with a sigh of relief.

The frantic screams of a small child sent Ashley rushing to
the door thirty minutes later.

“Please,” the young woman pleaded when Ashley swung open the
door. “My Jeanine burned herself!”