Love Story on Canal

by Angela Lee

  Fin waited and watched, observing the system Pan had created to make the best use of her time at the clinic. The sisters would gather three or four children at a time and bring them to her office. She would examine and treat one while the others would sit outside along the hall. Fin at times would go and sit with the children in the hallway, playing marbles and trying to keep from getting caught by the sisters.

  The second to last child in the group would go and tell the next group to come. Pan could typically see two groups each time she visited.

  “Sister Therese tells me that you fund all of your supplies yourself. And that you supplement some of the home’s other expenses.”

  She chuckled. “Coffee. I make sure the home has coffee. But yes, I do provide my own medical supplies.” Fin laughed as well.

  The small child she held said, “Dr. Pan brings us candy. And sweet bread from the baker. And after Tom comes home from helping, he always has oranges to share. When Katie got really sick, Dr. Pan brought her a new doll.” Two pairs of adult eyes looked affectionately toward the sweet little girl. Pan squeezed her before putting her down. The girl waited a moment as Pan reached into the pocket of her skirt to pull out a candy.

  After seeing to the second group, Pan brought Fin along as she walked the entire home. She did this at the conclusion of each visit, her method of ensuring that some child with an ailment had not been overlooked. She dreaded the inevitable day when fever might spread infecting the population of the home. As they walked, the children swarmed Fin as he passed candy and told silly jokes.

  The visit concluded and they made their farewells to Sister Therese, who discreetly handed Pan a small package. Pan slipped it into her medicine bag without question. The nun scrunched her nose, as the sharp tang of shellfish filled the air. Pan groaned inwardly.

  As they exited the children’s asylum she wondered if Fin would comment on the exchange as the man seemed to be aware of everything. As he had done several times during the day, Fin surprised her by not mentioning it. Instead he asked, “Why does Tom escort you?”

  “Sister Therese demanded it. Each of the visits grew later and later and this is only the first stop. Initially, I told her that I would be careful and that I understood the risk but that did not satisfy.”

  “Rightfully so,” he watched as she tidied her gloves and skirt and prepared to move on.

  “Honestly, since I have become involved with the order, I have struggled with the dilemma of finding the best way to refuse a nun,” she sighed reaching the bottom steps at the sidewalk.

  He asked, “Have you been successful?” Pan shrugged sheepishly and Fin barked a laugh.

  Reality dawned, crushing her spirits, as it did every time that she enjoyed Fin’s company. The next portion of her day should have been spent delivering two messages and checking in with Mrs. Byrne. There was no way that she could bring Fin with her as she spoke with prisoners’ families.

  She could save the messages for Thursday and just go and check on Mrs. Byrne but that was still several blocks away. The orphanage was already a block outside of the Vieux Carre and she was not certain it would be wise for Fin to know how much further she travelled on her rounds. She decided the best thing to do would be to end her day now. She would find some way to complete the other tasks after working with her father tomorrow and still make it home before the city curfew bell. Though inconvenient, it was the safest plan.

  She quietly explained the change of plans to Tom who was waiting to head in the direction opposite of home. Thankfully, Fin made no move to approach.

  “Shall I meet you tomorrow, Dr. Pan?” the boy asked with a small frown.

  Pan smiled sadly. She knew that Tom worried that helping her tomorrow would keep him from baking duties. The boy was so young to have this many worries. “No, Tom. I will manage. I will see you again Thursday.”

  Sister Therese had put Pan in contact with a local widow who was now baking the bread for Pan’s prison visits. The baker had taken Tom as an apprentice and he seemed to enjoy it.

  “Shouldn’t I walk you home them, Dr. Pan?” Tom asked as they walked back toward Fin at the steps of the orphanage.

  “I’ll escort, Dr. Pan,” Fin said sending Tom off with a three-cent nickel. The boy’s eyes lit up and he nodded his thanks.

  The change in plans had a definite effect on Pan’s demeanor. She tried to mask her irritation as she reached around Fin to collect her medicine bag and began walking toward home. He seemed to sense her change in mood, and they walked for a few blocks in silence.

  Halfway home, the politician had held his tongue long enough, “This was not how you planned to spend your day.”

  “How could I have had any idea that you would accompany me on my rounds,” she snapped. Hearing the sharpness of her own words, she cast a sideways glance at Fin whose hands were raised in forfeit.

  “I would not have impeded any of your other endeavors. I just want to know you, Pan. I want to see how you fill your day,” he responded calmly. How could a person be so collected?

  “You would have quietly followed me to the Irish Channel, then?” she challenged.

  His response was still smooth as velvet, “I thought you were done for the day. You failed to mention having additional tasks to attend.” A moment later he added, “Belle, you must know that travelling in those areas is not safe.”

  “That is exactly why we did not go! To protect you,” Pan countered swinging her body toward him.

  He stopped walking and shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair leaving some of the short locks at odd angles before arguing, “Protect me? It’s not safe for you! You could be mistaken for a different sort of woman. You could be assaulted. Your reputation would suffer.”

  She narrowed her eyes and stamped her foot in frustration, “If I were assaulted, I suspect that more than my reputation would suffer. Be assured, I understand the risk. It is your reputation that would be more tarnished from such an indiscretion.”

  Fin reached for her arm and guided her into the alleyway behind the building where they walked. Pan assumed he wanted to keep their disagreement private. He held her at arm’s length and took a breath before ranting, “Damn it, woman! I am not concerned with my safety or reputation! I am thinking only of you! I care about what happens to you! You are putting yourself at risk!”

  She struggled to collect her thoughts, “Mr. Weathers, your concern is misplaced. Be concerned about all the orphaned children we saw earlier today. You visited that home weeks ago, yet those children still receive barely enough to eat. Feel concern for the boy who escorted us all day. That child holds all the worries of an adult on his shoulders.”

  Fin’s jaw clenched and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Is it solely my responsibility to combat poverty?”

  She arched her brow and put her hands on her hips in defiance. “Are you not a politician? Is not the whole of New Orleans paying attention to your actions? If your constituents were to see you feed the poor, wouldn’t others, who were able, do the same? You are in a powerful position. You have the opportunity to do so much good.”

  “But in your eyes, I am not.”

  She had wounded his pride; it was obvious in his posture and tone. She offered an embarrassed apology, “I did not say that. I merely meant that you have the ability to encourage charity.”

  “Pan, it isn’t that easy. Politics doesn’t work like that. Especially not right now. I must tread carefully. I cannot defy the Union. I cannot offend the aristocracy of the city. Stop changing the subject. We are discussing your risk taking.”

  “My risk is small compared to the sufferings of these people. Not just the children. There are suffering, unemployed people everywhere in this city. I have a skill set that can make their lives a little better. As do you. Stop trying to dissuade me from doing what I can. I would not ask you to dare more than what is safe,” she hissed before moving past him toward the street.

  Fin pulled her back into the alley and
held her without speaking, his eyes burning black with fury. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her without preamble. It was forceful and hurried, a mashing of lips and teeth and tongues, unlike the relaxed and seductive kisses of the other night. His frustrated passion easily ignited hers.

  Pan stepped closer, still holding her bag between them. All her inner parts, usually so tightly wound, were spiraling loose at an incredible speed.

  It was dizzying and thrilling, and she welcomed it. Relished it.

  Until Fin pulled back.

  His hands still cupping her face, he leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed and breathing hard for a moment. “Forgive me. This was unacceptable.”

  Unacceptable for him to kiss her in an alleyway on Canal Street. Unacceptable for her to want him to do it again.

  “I don’t want to stop,” Pan said almost to herself, having decided in that moment she would not allow him to again make the decision for her.

  More brazen than she had ever been, her hands traveled across his masculine chest from shoulder to center. She tucked her hands inside his jacket to feel the hardened muscles against his shirt. Pan lifted on her tip toes to kiss along his jawline until she reached his mouth. Her lips tempted his in a fevered kiss as her hands continued to roam his solid frame.

  A moan from Fin, empowered her enough to trail curious fingers to the waist of his trousers. Her eyes flitted to his. She expected amusement, more flirtation, but instead she realized he was stunned. Of course, he wouldn’t expect a woman of her pedigree to behave this way.

  She held his dark gaze in challenge as one hand slid over his trousers. Timid fingers trailed the length of his arousal. Finding more courage, she cupped her hand around the fullness of him, pressing a bit more firmly with her palm as she slowly stroked.

  As she became more confident in her touch, Fin closed his eyes and buried his head into the curve of her neck. She could feel his breath against her skin, warm and erratic. Enjoying the sense of control, Pan slowed the pace of her hand. His hands heatedly sought her backside, cupping and massaging the curve of her bottom; he lifted his head, chocolate eyes open, shock replaced by desire, as her hands explored.

  He leaned forward to kiss her and breathed against her mouth, “You’re driving me mad.” He groaned and returned his head to her neck, kissing and laving. His response only excited her more and she increased her rhythm.

  “Holy hell. You have to stop, belle. Christ. This is too much.”

  Despite his conflicting physical response, Pan honored his entreaty. She removed her hand from its exploration and stepped back. Hands still on her backside, he ground into her pelvis with his own as he let out another frustrated groan. One of his hands had reached behind her neck bringing her mouth to his for one last slow, sensuous kiss.

  “When the time is right, we will finish this somewhere other than an alleyway,” Fin whispered into her mouth.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Torches lit the drive that circled the front of the Freret plantation. A row of black carriages lined the drive, unloading well-dressed dinner guests. The wealthy Dr. Freret and his wife were hosting a supper party, having invited the most promising and respected physicians throughout the area. James had not come calling during the week as her father had suspected. He had, however, asked her father several times whether the family would attend tonight’s supper party.

  Pan saw her old friend standing on the front porch speaking with some other gentlemen when she arrived with her parents. It appeared coincidental, but she suspected that James had waited for her before entering.

  “You look beautiful,” James said, taking her arm tentatively.

  She felt beautiful in the red silk dress her mother had demanded she wear. Iris had made an unusual show of insisting that Pan end her workday early to dress for the evening. The gown had a sweetheart cut which highlighted the smooth line of Pan’s neck and elegant slope of her shoulders. Fabric roses in the same shade patterned the hem of the dress. Pan loved the vibrant color paired with the simple style. Her mother had loaned her ruby earrings and necklace to match.

  Earlier in the carriage ride, her father had teased that she had dressed especially for James. Iris Fontenot had shrugged when Pan shot her an accusing look.

  After James escorted her in, the two greeted other familiar faces before her father approached with the evening’s host. Pan stood silently as Dr. Freret addressed her male companions. With nothing else to do, her eyes scanned the room for her mother. Instead, Pan’s eyes met with same glorious mocha eyes she had seen each night in her dreams for the last two weeks. Fin was working his way toward her in the company of a beautiful woman.

  Pan remained captured by Fin’s intense gaze until the woman he accompanied spoke to Dr. Freret, “Darling, look who’s arrived.”

  Slowly Fin shifted his appreciative stare and focused his attention on the evening’s host. He easily turned his politician’s charm on the annoying doctor. “Thank you for including me, Dr. Freret. Considering present company, I do believe I may be in for an anatomy lesson or two this evening.”

  The lovely Mrs. Freret tittered at Fin’s jest. Dr. Freret tilted his head in question before nodding, “Quite right. Quite right.”

  Pan and her father looked at each other and sniggered. Fin’s obvious innuendo had flown over the other man’s head. Her gaze flickered to Fin, who arched a single eyebrow at her as she rolled her eyes in response.

  “Weathers, have you met the new surgeon and his daughter?”

  Fin gave her father a hearty handshake. “Indeed. They are treating a close friend. Dr. Fontenot, good to see you again.”

  Before their host could continue his introduction, Fin addressed Pan with mischievous eyes, “I’m glad to see you this evening as well, Dr. Fontenot.” He reached for her hand before she had even extended it. His thumb rubbed over her gloved wrist as he brought her fingertips to his lips for a kiss. Then he added in quiet French, “You look stunning, belle. Breathtaking.”

  No one could mistake that his address had made an impact, exchanging the expected “Miss” with “doctor” and following it with such an intimate complement.

  Mrs. Freret gave a curious smile. Her husband, already aware of Pan’s title, acted as if he had not heard. Papa was beaming; he caught her eye and gave her a wink. Mother in Heaven, the politician had won over her father.

  James had stilled beside her. No doubt, he was processing both the information and familiarity with which Fin had addressed her. She felt her friend’s hand reach for the small of her back in an uncharacteristic show of possessiveness.

  Fin, too, was aware of the gesture; his eyes narrowing as he held her hand over long to his lips. Releasing it finally, he turned toward James for introduction. It was a polite, if not abrupt, exchange.

  Afterward, Fin excused himself. Pan watched as he comfortably circulated the crowd, smiling and moving from person to person. This was not a Creole dinner party. Most of these people were prosperous Anglo doctors.

  Fin had been invited, she supposed, so that the doctors’ group could persuade him to champion their cause in the city council race. Of course, he had probably accepted the invitation in hopes of securing their vote. A small part of her wondered if he had known she would be there. Across the room, she caught her mother watching with a smug smile. Pan wondered if perhaps it wasn’t James that had inspired her mother’s dress selection.

  James was seated to her right at dinner, an older doctor sat to her left. Fin sat across but at the other end of the table nearest the host and his lovely wife. The arrangement made it easy for her to watch him while conversing with James. Fin was seated between two doctor’s wives both of whom seemed to be vying for his attention. Pan frowned. She couldn’t blame the women; the man was dashing in dinner wear. His black jacket fit perfectly, highlighting his solid build. His relaxed charm and easy smile made Pan wish she could be the one he was focusing his attention on. His dark hair and eyes were a distinct contrast to the fairer Angl
o men that sat around the table.

  She shook her head to clear her thoughts; she tried to focus on James and the conversation around her. Going against proper etiquette, the discussion focused on the doctors’ lobbying efforts.

  “We’d make more progress, if we could find common ground,” her father grumbled from across the table. “Everyone thinks that they know the best way to tackle the problem and no one will concede to another’s ideas.”

  Pan jumped in, “And while the sides debate, any person can claim to have medical training and go about treating people. The poorest of the city are being swindled out of a week’s salary to purchase miracle tonics to ease their afflictions.” She frowned realizing that she could be lumped into the group of people she just described. The only difference was that she did have medical training and was not trying to swindle people with false treatments.

  “I trust that the doctors leading the movement to reform the Louisiana Medical Association will make the best decisions,” James contributed.

  “Disbanding the LMA was this group’s decision to begin with,” Pan debated with heat.

  James shifted uncomfortably. He looked from Pan to the people around them, most of whom were suddenly completely engaged in their first course, turtle soup. No one expected a woman to participate in the conversation; certainly not to be passionate about it.

  James spoke slowly as if to calm her, “These things just take time. It’s not just about medicine, there are political aspects as well. It’s not always easy to understand when you are not immediately involved.”

  Pan dropped her eyes, thoroughly embarrassed by her own outburst and James’s unintentional chastising. A sideways glance at Fin only made it worse. He watched her with unreadable eyes before returning his attention to the woman to his right.