When the Heart Heals (5 page)

Rosemary lowered her makeshift weapon, feeling foolish. “When Bodie growled, I thought—well, never mind. Please, follow me. We'll have to go in the back way. The front door is locked.” She hoped the fading light concealed her flushed face. After replacing the shovel in the greenhouse, she led the way into the kitchen.

“I hope you don't mind me coming unexpected.” Jolene's anxious eyes sought hers. Her pale face looked thinner than it had the previous week. She swayed and caught herself on the edge of the table.

Alarmed, Rosemary slid a chair behind her. “Of course I don't mind.” She sat, facing her visitor. “It doesn't look like you're feeling any better. Have you been drinking the tea?”

“Some. It doesn't help, miss. I'm still sick most of the time. I only worked one day last week.” She leaned forward. “Do you have anything else I could try?”

“Sadly, no. I wish I did.”

Jolene wilted. “Guess that's it, then. My roommates told me I couldn't live there without paying. Miss Lytle gave me the name of a place in Ohio that takes girls like me.” She shook her head. “I don't even have enough money to pay for a shared room. How will I get to Ohio?”

“I don't know about Ohio, but for now you can stay with me. I have an extra bedroom upstairs.” The words escaped her lips before she had time to think.

“Oh, miss, I couldn't.”

“Of course you could.” Rosemary waved her hand toward the sitting room. “It's lonely here since my brother married. I'd appreciate the company.” She ignored the voice in her head that screamed, “What are you doing? You can barely feed yourself!”

Tears welled up under Jolene's lashes. “I don't know what to say.” She pushed to her feet. “I'll go get my things.”

Rosemary placed a steadying hand on the girl's arm. “Not tonight. You need rest. Tomorrow I'll ask my brother to help you.” She bit her lip, wondering what Curt's reaction would be to her decision. She had the uncomfortable feeling he wouldn't be happy.

T
he following day, Rosemary left Dr. Stewart's office at noon and hurried to Lindberg's Mercantile. Faith greeted her with a hug.

“I'm so glad to see you. Mornings are lonely without you and Bodie to keep me company.”

“We still have Sundays at church and after, but I agree. It's not the same.” Rosemary walked to the woodstove and held her hands toward the warmth.

Faith glanced out the window before joining her. “Where's Bodie?”

“He's staying home with . . . my guest. That's why I came.” She swallowed. “Would you please ask Curt to stop by Dr. Stewart's office this afternoon? I kind of promised he'd help her move her things.”

Faith settled into one of the chairs beside the stove and patted the other one for Rosemary. “I'll ask him when he gets here after school. Now, are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“A girl came to see Dr. Stewart last week, complaining of nausea.” She smiled to herself, remembering his kindness to Jolene. “After he checked her for symptoms and found nothing amiss, he asked her if she might be with child.”

Faith raised a questioning eyebrow.

Rosemary nodded affirmation. After explaining Jolene's circumstances, she said, “I invited her to stay with me.” She held up a hand. “Before you say anything, I know it will be difficult. But I couldn't just stand by. What if she's wrong about her mother and father? They might miss her and want her home.”

“And if they don't?” Faith's sympathetic gaze rested on her. “You of all people should know that parents can be . . . unreasonable. Yours didn't attend our wedding when I married Curt.”

“We never should have sent the letter.” Sorrow rolled through her at the memory of Faith's hurt and Curt's anger when her parents ignored their invitation.

“Their lack of response wasn't your fault.”

“I should've known better.” She shook her head to dispel regrets. “But this is different. I won't know what Jolene's family is like unless I take a chance and talk to them.” She stood, eyeing the clock on the wall behind the cash drawer. “It's time to get back.”

Faith slid an arm around her waist. “You wouldn't be Rosemary if you didn't care about people. Just don't get hurt.”

As Rosemary covered the block and a half between the mercantile and the doctor's office, Faith's parting words spun through her mind. Her friend worried too much. She had no intention of putting herself in a situation where she could be hurt.

When she turned onto Commerce Street, she noticed Dr. Stewart bundled in an overcoat, standing beside his buggy. A man on horseback waited next to the hitching rail.

Dr. Stewart strode toward her. “Mr. Haggerty needs us.” He nodded toward the rider.

“His wife's time has come and she's asking for a doctor.”

Rosemary thought of Curt and Jolene, both expecting to see her in a few hours. She wished she had some way to let them know she'd likely be gone all afternoon and possibly longer. The waiting man's horse pawed the ground. From the looks of Mr. Haggerty, if he were standing on the street he'd be pawing the ground too. She sent him a reassuring smile.

“I'll get my things.” She dashed into the office and retrieved her carryall, then hurried outside.

Dr. Stewart helped her into the buggy. They took off at a trot after Mr. Haggerty, following him south across the railroad tracks and out of town. She shivered as cool air penetrated her shawl.

The doctor reached behind him, lifting a folded blanket from the rear seat. “Put this over you.”

“Thank you.” Grateful for the extra layer, she settled the blanket over her shoulders and tucked her arms underneath. She'd been waiting for an opportunity to show Dr. Stewart her skills as a nurse. If only the moment had arrived on a different day. She hoped Curt wouldn't be upset when he arrived at the office and found the “D
OCTOR
IS
O
UT
” card hanging on the door.

Dr. Stewart held the reins in both hands while urging the horse at a fast clip along the country road. Bare trees on hillsides stretched finger-like branches toward the cloudy sky.

He turned his head toward her, face creased in a smile. “Haggerty insisted I bring you along. His wife's never had a doctor at a birthing before, so she's skittish about a man helping her. Don't know what I'd have done if it was the middle of the night.”

“I'll assist in every way possible.” She kept her tone respectful, but inside she wanted to whoop with joy. Maybe now he'd see her as more than someone to wash bandages
and keep records. She ignored the inner voice that reminded her she'd never assisted at a birth.

Ahead of them, Mr. Haggerty rounded a bend in the road, then galloped up a rutted track toward a small frame house perched atop a rise. As they rolled past a run-down farm to follow him along the track, Rosemary recognized the property as belonging to Mr. Bingham, Cassie's stepfather.

For a moment, she gazed over her shoulder at the two men sitting in the shade of the vine-draped porch. No wonder the place looked neglected. Mr. Bingham and his manservant should be out caring for the property instead of lolling about in rocking chairs.

She made a “tsk” sound with her tongue. “My friend Miss Haddon lives there.”

“A strange setting for such a well-turned-out young lady.”

“I agree.”

The farm passed out of sight behind a grove of trees. When the doctor stopped his buggy in front of the frame house, Mr. Haggerty swung off his mount and took the reins from his hands. “Just go on in. I'll take care of your horse.”

Red gingham curtains hung over the front window in the tidy room. A kettle steamed on the stovetop. Two young girls sat side by side on a bench next to a table, shoulders touching. The older one appeared to be around four years old. Their wide blue eyes fixed on Rosemary. “Did you come to make Mama well?”

“I'll help the doctor make her well.” She smoothed the little girl's hair. “Why don't you go see if your papa needs you?”

They scrambled out of the room, their faded calico dresses fluttering at the backs of their stocking-covered legs.

A groan issued from behind a curtain pulled over a doorway. “In here.” The woman's voice sounded more like a gasp than speech.

Dr. Stewart gestured for Rosemary to precede him. When she stepped into the room, a sweating blonde woman gave her a tremulous smile and held out a hand. “Thank the Lord. I've been so afraid. Never had this much . . .” She closed her eyes and moaned. “Baby's been coming for hours.”

Rosemary took her hand. “Dr. Stewart knows what to do. Don't worry.” She hoped she sounded calmer than she felt.

He turned to Mrs. Haggerty. “I need to examine you. Miss Saxon will be right here helping me.”

Mrs. Haggerty clutched Rosemary's hand with a bone-bending grip. “Go on, Doctor. Long's I've got someone to hold on to, I'm ready.”

Rosemary cradled the squalling baby boy next to a basin of warm water and stroked his pink body clean with a square of toweling. A lighted lamp hanging from a rafter burnished the blond fuzz covering the top of his head. “You're a handsome one,” she whispered, grateful the birth had gone well. Her fears that she wouldn't know what to do had evaporated while she followed Dr. Stewart's calm instructions.

After tucking the infant into a soft flannel gown, she wrapped him snugly in a blanket and cuddled him close to her chest. “Let's go back to your mama.”

She placed Mrs. Haggerty's new son in her arms and stepped away from the bed. A lamp glowed on a bureau across the room. Dr. Stewart dropped his forceps into a leather satchel, then unrolled his sleeves and fastened the cuffs at his wrists.

“You need to rest for a few days, Mrs. Haggerty. Is there a neighbor who could look after you?”

She settled her newborn son at her breast. “No. There's two ladies at Mr. Bingham's now, but they're about as useless as
can be. Swan around doing fancy work and reading books. That old man who looks after the place isn't likely to be much help, either.” She shifted her shoulders. “I'll be fine. My husband can cook a fair bit. You tell him to come in now, would you?”

Rosemary followed Dr. Stewart as he strode to the door and swung it open, allowing lamplight to flow onto the porch. The two little girls sat on the top step, bundled into coats against the chill of the evening. Mr. Haggerty sat in a rocking chair behind his daughters.

He sprang to his feet when he saw Dr. Stewart. “Is Carlene all right?”

“She's doing well. You have a healthy son.”

“I'm grateful to you, Doc, and you too, Mrs. Stewart.”

Rosemary hoped the dim light hid her embarrassment. “Dr. Stewart and I are not—”

“Miss Saxon and I are not married.” The doctor cleared his throat. “Miss Saxon is a nurse, employed in my practice.”

Mr. Haggerty stared at the two of them. “Well, if that don't beat all. I heard about you, miss, but never figured I'd end up with you in my house. No one told me you worked for the new doc. When he said he was waiting for his nurse, I thought he meant—”

“Papa?” One of the little girls tugged at his trouser leg. “Can we see Mama now?”

“Go on in. I'll be there directly.”

They scurried through the door. When they were out of sight, he fumbled in his pocket and brought out a small leather purse. “Here's ten dollars.” He handed two gold coins to Dr. Stewart. “Don't have to pay extra for the . . . nurse, do I?”

“Same fee. I'll compensate Miss Saxon.”

Mr. Haggerty shook the doctor's hand, tipped a nod at
Rosemary, then dashed inside. As soon as he left, Dr. Stewart took Rosemary's arm and helped her into the buggy. “I apologize for the lateness of the hour. I'll take you straight home.”

“Thank you.” She held her hands in front of her face and blew on her fingers to warm them. For the first time in several hours, she thought of her brother. By now, Curt would have gone home. She hoped he'd stop by in the morning so she could explain her absence.

While the doctor lit the carriage lamp, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, praying none of the local gossips would notice her late arrival.

The buggy bounced when he climbed inside and settled his weight on the seat. Yellow light from the lamp splashed the road and a half moon bowled shadows across the track. After guiding the horse down the rutted hillside, the doctor relaxed against the back of the seat.

“You've never assisted at a birth before, have you?” He tilted his head toward her when he asked the question. His tone was conversational.

Rosemary couldn't see his features well enough to determine whether or not he was upset. “This is the first time. That particular issue didn't arise while I was at Jefferson Barracks.” Amusement filled her voice.

He snorted a laugh. “I imagine not. Not your everyday soldier's complaint.”

As much as she appreciated his good-humored response, she regretted making light of a serious question. “Please forgive my flippancy. You had a reason for asking. Did I do something wrong?” She held her breath.

“On the contrary. You followed instructions perfectly. I'm grateful for your assistance.”

Dr. Stewart seldom handed out compliments. Relieved, she murmured, “Thank you.”

As they traveled the distance to town, Rosemary peeked at the doctor's profile from time to time. The moonlight erased the tired lines that so often crouched at the corners of his eyes. For the moment the young physician she remembered rode beside her.

A scene from a twenty-bed ward at Jefferson Barracks entered her mind. The night had been late, like this one. She'd leaned over one side of a bed holding a towel while Dr. Stewart administered laudanum to a soldier whose coughing threatened to reopen the stitches in his side. The expression on the doctor's face showed his own agony at the man's suffering. She'd observed that same expression when he assisted Mrs. Haggerty through the birth of her son.