When the Heart Heals (6 page)

“This isn't the first time we've treated a patient late at night,” she said, then covered her mouth. Perhaps he wouldn't welcome the reminder. Her brother spoke little of his wartime experiences.

Dr. Stewart didn't respond until several seconds had passed. “Why do you say that? Of course it is.” He guided the horse right onto King's Highway.

“I mean at Jefferson—”

He jerked on the reins. The buggy jolted to a halt in front of the house next to Rosemary's. “There's a light in your window. Didn't you say you live alone?” Alarm spiked through his voice. “Someone's inside. Wait here.”

Jolene.
She grabbed his arm to stop him from jumping out of the buggy. “I have a guest. She must have left a lamp burning for me.”

“How can you be sure?” He shook her hand loose and coaxed the horse forward to the hitching post outside her gate. “I'll see you to the door.”

“That's not necessary.”

“I insist. I want to be certain you're safe.” He helped her from the buggy and kept a firm grip on her elbow as they walked to the porch.

The pressure of his hand sent a crack through the professional wall between them. Warmth coursed along her arm. Could it be he saw her as more than a nurse who worked in his office? She faced him when they reached the steps. “Good night.”

He leaned toward her. She lifted her face, wondering what he'd do next.

The door swung open. Jolene stepped onto the porch holding the lamp. “I've been worried sick. Your brother came here looking for you hours ago.”

Dr. Stewart swung toward Jolene, then stared at Rosemary. “
She's
your guest? What possessed you? We can't be involved in our patients' lives.”

“There's no ‘we' to it, Doctor. I am the one involved.” She stalked past him, tucked her arm under Jolene's, and banged the door behind them.

E
lijah traveled the additional distance to his home in a daze, stunned at finding Jolene Graves in Miss Saxon's house. Visions of his physician father seared his memory. His father had started with the best of intentions, trying to help the needy, but instead had taken a dishonorable path. Elijah had promised himself he'd never succumb to the same temptations, yet his nurse's actions were too familiar for comfort. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

He stabled his horse, scooping extra grain into the feed trough. After hanging the bridle, he brought the carriage lamp from the barn and climbed the back steps to his house. A cold kitchen greeted him. Too weary to bother with a fire, he slumped onto a chair. Without revealing his father's shameful actions, he had to find a way to tell Miss Saxon she couldn't continue to house Miss Graves.

Depression weighted his bones. His steps dragged as he walked through the spacious dining and sitting rooms of his home, removing and discarding his jacket over the back of an armchair. His vest followed, landing on a writing table under the bay window. He grasped the newel post at the foot of the
stairs and rested his forehead on its smooth oak surface. A solid night's sleep would restore his good humor—at least on the face he presented to the world.

The following morning, Elijah strode toward West & Riley's for breakfast. He needed something more substantial than his usual oatmeal to fortify himself for his planned confrontation with Miss Saxon.

Thaddeus Cooper overtook him a few feet from the restaurant's door. “Want company with your eggs?”

He tacked a cheerful expression on his face. “Sounds good. I haven't seen you in a while.”

The sheriff tugged at the corner of his moustache. “Been courting Amy Dunsmuir.” His lean face reddened. “She's the widow gal who looks after old Judge Lindberg. Pretty little thing.”

The two men entered the restaurant and took places at one of the long tables. Plates and tableware were set before each unoccupied chair. Once they were seated, a serving girl approached with a steaming pot and poured coffee into their cups. Another patron passed a platter heaped with fried eggs and bacon. A bowl of biscuits followed.

Elijah forked the food onto his plate with a contented sigh. If this didn't cheer him up, nothing would. Around a mouthful, he asked, “Is that the same Lindberg who owns the mercantile?”

“Yup. Guess he still owns it. The judge's mind isn't quite as keen as it used to be. That's why Amy looks after him.” He swigged his coffee. “Faith Saxon, his granddaughter, manages the business. She's the one I warned you about. Her and Miss Rosemary are quite a pair.”

Elijah considered the sheriff's remarks as he chewed a strip of bacon. Small towns had histories that took an outsider like himself a long time to decipher. Nothing like Chicago,
where he'd lived before the war. There, no one expected to know everyone who had lost a family member in the conflict, or why one neighbor didn't speak to another. Between Miss Saxon and Thaddeus, he was beginning to understand the community he'd chosen for his practice.

He slid his chair away from the table. “Time I left for the office.” His mood deflated at the prospect of speaking to Miss Saxon about her guest. He enjoyed the moments they spent together with patients, yet every time they had a disagreement she retreated behind a revetment as unyielding as any he'd seen on a battlefield. He shook his head. No help for it—she'd crossed a line he never thought he'd have to defend.

“Good seeing you, Doc.” Thaddeus reached for the platter and helped himself to more eggs.

“Always a pleasure.” The words were rote, but he meant them. After the camaraderie of the Army medical service, he found his spare time in Noble Springs to be lonely. Maybe one of these Sundays he'd visit the church across the street from his house.

“Rosemary! Someone's trying to get in your door.” Jolene's shrill warning sliced through the early morning stillness.

Rosemary glanced down at Bodie, who dozed behind the cookstove. “Must be my brother. He stops by most mornings. Otherwise the dog would bark.”

She hurried to the entry and slid the bolt. Jolene scurried partway up the stairs and then paused, watching.

“Where were you?” Curt said as soon as she opened the door.

“Good morning to you too. Want to come in, or would you rather stand on the porch and hector me?”

“Sorry.” He stepped inside and bent to kiss her cheek, then glanced up the stairs at Jolene. “Did Miss Graves tell you I was here last night?”

“She did. Come where it's warm and I'll tell you where I was.” Rosemary spoke over her shoulder as she led the way to the kitchen. When Curt took a chair, she sat at the table opposite him. “Dr. Stewart asked me to assist at a birth out in the country. There wasn't time to let Faith know I'd be gone.” She leaned forward and rested her hand on his. “I apologize. I knew you'd be worried.”

“I just don't like the idea of you being here alone. Anything could have happened.”

“As you see, I'm not alone right now.” Rosemary folded her arms over her chest.

“Faith said you'd like me to bring Miss Graves's things over here.”

“Yes, please.”

He lowered his voice. “She also said you plan to visit the girl's parents.” Frowning, he shook his head. “We can't get
our
mother to talk to us. Why do you think you can influence Miss Graves's family?”

“I have to try. She needs help beyond what outsiders can provide.” She stood and moved to the oven, wrapped her hand in her apron, and lifted a pan of golden brown biscuits to the stovetop. With a spatula, she scooped three onto a plate and placed them in front of Curt. “Put some honey on these. It will sweeten your disposition.”

He split open a biscuit and drizzled honey on the cut surface. Around a mouthful, he said, “Meals are another thing. How can you feed an additional person?”

Rosemary felt a laugh bubble up inside. “Ask me next month. Right now she's too sick to eat much.”

He sent her an exasperated look. “This isn't a joke.”

“I know. I love you for your concern, but I'm a grown woman. Please let me make my own decisions.”

After seeing Curt to the door when he left for the academy, Rosemary sagged against the frame. Somehow she'd believed he would support her decision to help Jolene. Neighbors and friends had reached out to them once their parents shut them out. She was merely repeating the kindness. After a moment, she straightened her shoulders. No matter what he thought, she'd done the right thing.

Wind gusts billowed Rosemary's cloak as she walked the short distance between her home and the doctor's office. From habit, she glanced at the hedge growing along the side of her neighbor's property, looking for Bodie. He'd always accompanied her when she helped Faith at the mercantile. She missed him. Maybe today she'd ask the doctor if he would allow her to bring the dog to work with her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement in the neighbor's yard. When she stopped to take a closer look, whoever it was appeared to duck behind the house. Her heart fluttered in her throat. Would Jolene remember to keep the back door locked? She turned, ready to dash home with a reminder, then realized she was being silly. Anyone could be walking between the houses. It was none of her business. She gave herself a mental shake and strode toward Dr. Stewart's door.

“Miss Saxon.” The doctor emerged from his private office the moment she entered. “I'd like a word with you.”

From the sound of his voice, whatever he had to say wasn't good. Remembering his reaction to Jolene's presence in her home the previous evening, she braced for battle. If he thought he could dictate her private life, he'd better think again.

She hung her cloak on a hook and faced him. “Yes, Doctor?”

“It's about Miss Graves.”

She lifted her chin, determined not to make the conversation easy for him. “What about her?”

He grasped the front of his coat, tugging it downward. His face reddened. “You can't continue to shelter her. How do you think it would look if word got out that she'd been my patient?”

Her jaw dropped. “Why should that matter? I'll shelter whomever I want. It's my home, not yours.”

“You're an exasperating woman.” He took a step closer. “It matters because your actions with my patients affect my reputation. People will believe you're acting under my direction.”

“You'd have me turn her out on the street?”

“Just find another place for her to live.”

“If she had another place, she'd already be there.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I can't allow you to take in an unmarried girl who's with child.”

“That's the most unreasonable statement I've ever heard. She's already in my home, and she's not leaving.” She thought about telling him her intention to visit Jolene's family. Then anger burned through her. He was completely wrong. He didn't deserve an explanation.

“I'm not asking you. As your employer, I'm telling you.”

Rosemary turned and lifted her cloak from the hook.

“Then you're no longer my employer. Good day, Doctor.”

R
osemary stalked toward home, her anger cooling. What had she done? Curt warned her to keep her temper. Now she'd cost herself the job she so desperately needed.

She drew in a deep breath and held it while she tried to think what to do next. Buggies and riders on horseback passed by on the street. Sheriff Cooper entered the barbershop on the corner. A small boy darted past, schoolbooks swinging from a strap. Everyone had someplace to go—everyone but her.

Without any conscious plan, her feet carried her to West & Riley's. She needed a few extra things now that she was cooking for two people. In spite of what she'd said to Curt, Jolene had begun eating small amounts.

She'd spend what she had on food and then tomorrow collect what Dr. Stewart owed her for helping with Mrs. Haggerty's baby. Her mind skittered away from another confrontation with him. She'd worry later.

Entering the grocery store, her mouth watered at the combined aromas of coffee and fried bacon wafting from the restaurant portion of the building.

Jacob West strode toward her, a smile lighting his attractive face. “What a fine way to start my day. Has the doctor changed his hours?”

“No.” She swallowed. “I've changed mine, you might say.”

He cocked his head. “How so?”

After Dr. Stewart's harshness, Jacob's friendly interest was a balm to her spirit. “We had a . . . disagreement. I don't work for him anymore.” She dropped her gaze, focusing on a crack between the wooden floorboards.

“He was a fool if he sent you away. I hear nothing but good about your help in his practice.”

A smile quivered on her lips. “Really?”

“All the time.” He reached into a glass jar on the countertop and handed her a peppermint. “This'll make a bad day look better. Now, what can I get for you?”

“Just a few things. Two pounds of rice, a pound of oatmeal, and some baking powder.”

“Would your dog like a ham hock? The butcher brought more than I can use.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I'd be happy if you'd take it off my hands.”

“Jacob—”

He lifted a hand to stop her. “It's the least I can do for my favorite nurse.”

In spite of her embarrassment, she chuckled. “How many nurses do you know?”

“One. But she's special.”

Rosemary left the grocery with the image of Jacob's face before her. The Lord must have guided her feet to the store, knowing how much she needed a kind word. Fortified by the encouragement, she turned west on High Street toward Lindberg's Mercantile.

Faith needed to know what happened, but Rosemary quailed at telling her. She'd been so proud of finding a way to support herself and now she was right back where she'd been before. Barely enough money to feed herself, let alone Jolene.

Clouds blurred the sky, blotting out the feeble rays of the sun. She drew her cloak tighter against the gusting wind. She'd endured storms before—she would do it again.

She turned onto King's Highway, passed the newspaper office, and slipped inside the mercantile. Faith glanced up from an open ledger at the sound of the bell over the door. Her eyes widened when she saw Rosemary.

“This is a lovely surprise.” She closed the book with a snap and darted around the counter for a hug. “Did the doctor send you here for supplies? Paper? Ink?”

“No.” The enormity of the morning's happenings engulfed her. Her eyes stung. “I came to say . . .” She cleared her throat. “I told Dr. Stewart I wouldn't work for him any longer.”

“What? Come, sit.” Faith took her hand and led her to the chairs near the stove. “Please tell me. Was he unkind to you?”

Rosemary dropped her grocery-filled carryall next to a chair and sank down. “He said he couldn't allow me to shelter Jolene. He
told
me she'd have to go.” Remembering the scene, her anger boiled afresh. “Can you imagine? He said it reflected on him, of all things.”

Faith leaned back, a bewildered expression on her face. “How absolutely odd. I must say, I'm surprised. He seems such an affable soul. In fact, for a doctor, he's quite friendly.”

“Yes.” She remembered the conversations they'd had in his office. He enjoyed learning about the townspeople and often went out of his way to chat with patients. His reaction to Jolene's presence in her home left her baffled. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I remember him from when I first started
at the Barracks. No matter how bad the injury to one of our soldiers, he remained calm.”

“You didn't tell us you knew him.” Faith's voice squeaked with astonishment. “Did he recognize you?”

“No. I was only there for a month or so before he was sent to a battlefield depot.” She glanced at her sister-in-law, feeling a flush creep up her neck. “I must confess I hoped he'd remember me.”

“No wonder you wanted to work for him.” Faith sent her a knowing look. “He's very attractive.”

“Doesn't matter now, does it? I've got bigger things to worry about.” Rosemary stood. “I need to go home, but I'm afraid if I tell Jolene what happened, she'll blame herself. The poor girl is frantic with fear already.”

Mr. Slocum entered the store and meandered over to them. “Miss Rosemary. Thought you was working for the new doc.”

“Was. Not anymore.”

“You coming back here again?”

“I'll give it some thought.” She leaned over and kissed Faith's cheek. “Don't worry. I'll be fine.”

Drops of rain spat at the boardwalk as she strode home. There had to be a way to explain today's events to Jolene without upsetting her. Rosemary wished she knew what it was.

“I'll leave right now.” Jolene jumped up from the settee.

Rosemary blocked her path, arms extended. “You're not leaving. I want you here.”

“You lost your job because of me.” Tears streaked the girl's face.

“No, I lost my temper. I cost myself my employment. I should have tried to explain things to him.” She dropped onto one of the chairs in front of the window and blew out a weary
breath. Not having the job was bad enough. Explaining the particulars to everyone was worse.

Bodie padded over and poked his nose under her arm. She reached down and scratched his silky ears. “Good boy,” she murmured.

Jolene settled back onto the settee, sniffling. “Say what you want. It's my fault. If I left, would he hire you back?”

“I wouldn't work for him under those circumstances. My life is my concern—not his.”

“Maybe Miss Lytle would give me piecework again. I'm feeling some better now.” Her large brown eyes reflected a sheen of tears. “I don't want to be a burden.”

“You're not.” Rosemary crossed to the settee. Bending over, she hugged the girl's thin shoulders. “I've already thought of something we can do together.”

By the time Curt arrived that afternoon with Jolene's possessions, Rosemary had changed from the drab clothing she wore in the doctor's office into her pleated moss green outfit. Her skirt swished over the floorboards as she hurried to answer the door.

“You're very prompt. No students kept late today?”

He blinked. “You didn't tell me you'd be home. I expected Miss Graves would let me in.”

“She's upstairs, in your old room.” She pointed at a battered trunk next to him. “Could you carry this up for us, please?”

He hefted Jolene's belongings onto the entry floor, then tucked his thumb under Rosemary's chin. “I'm always happy to see you, but why are you here? It's only four o'clock.”

After already explaining her actions to three people, Rosemary abbreviated her answer to her brother. “Dr. Stewart
told me I couldn't have Jolene here. I disagreed. Faith can give you the details.”

Curt brought his heels together and saluted. “Yes, ma'am.”

Rosemary led the way up the stairs and tapped on Jolene's door. “My brother brought your trunk,” she called.

In a moment, the girl stood facing them wrapped in Rosemary's striped blue dressing gown. Her hair hung down behind her in a long braid. “I must have fallen asleep.” When she noticed Curt standing in the hallway, she ducked to one side, cheeks crimson. “I thank you. Just leave it, please. I'll unpack directly.” Backing away, she closed the door.

Pity clutched Rosemary's heart. From the girl's swollen eyes, she knew she'd been crying. The sooner she got her busy on a new enterprise, the sooner Jolene would feel useful.

The following morning, Rosemary woke with a sense of dread nagging at her. She'd promised herself she'd collect her share of the Haggertys' payment today, but the thought of facing Dr. Stewart was enough to remove all joy from the morning.

She shoved her feet into wool slippers and threw her wrapper over her shoulders. No sense delaying what had to be done. As soon as she opened the door, Bodie rose from his post, stretching. His body heat seeped from the floorboards to the soles of her feet.

“You're supposed to sleep in the kitchen, not outside my room,” she said to him, secretly pleased at the thought of him keeping watch over her.

Bodie wagged his tail and ran down the stairs toward the back door.

She stepped onto the porch after him, shivering in the early morning chill. He circled the yard with his nose to the
ground. After a minute, he disappeared inside the greenhouse.

Half-awake, it took Rosemary a moment to realize the door stood open. Her senses jangled. Although it was late March, the previous night had been chilly. Her tender plants might not survive the cold. She sped down the steps and along the path to the small outbuilding.

Stepping through the entrance, she scrutinized the tidy tables. The mint plant appeared unaffected by the drop in temperature. Rosemary inspected each of the pots containing infant sprouts while Bodie nosed about the corners of the window-lined enclosure. On some of the stems, new leaves curled downward in the chill air. She shook her head. Nothing to do now but wait to see if they recovered.

She took a final look around, trying to remember when she'd last watered. Surely the door had been latched upon returning to the house. But perhaps the distraction of Jolene's arrival had made her careless.