Edie lowered herself to the stair. Why did her thoughts always turn back to Beau? Hadn’t she learned anything after he pushed her off on Gertie and her family just to save his own? Wasn’t valuing one person’s life over another’s just as morally wrong as what the Germans were doing in Europe?
And still, despite it all, she loved him.
“Edie?” Her name echoed down the serpentine line of stairs. “Are you down there?”
She tilted her head back and saw Gertie leaning over the banister. “Did you have any trouble getting Bea admitted?”
“It was like pulling donkey’s teeth, but we managed to wrangle the last bed. We’re still filling out some paperwork. You mind waiting a few more minutes?”
“Take your time.”
“Thank you.” Her friend threw her a brief smile. “I’ve got someone who wants to see you.”
A few seconds later, the metal exit door slammed shut. A gallop of footsteps burst out overhead, growing louder until Beau came around the corner and stopped as if she might get startled and run away. “Hey.”
She slid down on the step, her knees giving way. “Hi.”
He took a cautious step toward her. “How have you been?”
“Fine. Busy. Lots of work at the plant.” She paused for a moment, not sure what to say next. “How’s my mother doing?”
“She’s a lot better. Merrilee talked her into joining the Ladies Auxiliary. They’ve been keeping her busy rolling bandages for the troops.”
She never thought she’d hear of her mother helping out the Allies’ effort. “Merrilee and Claire. Are they okay?”
Before she knew what was happening, Beau plopped down on the stair beside her, his gaze studying her as if casting her to memory—every nuance, every curve of her face. “Missing you like crazy.”
His words chipped away at the stony wall around her heart. She straightened. “I’m sure you explained everything to them.”
“Claire’s had a cold so she didn’t ask a lot of questions.” Beau gave her a sidelong glance. “I didn’t have to explain much to my aunt.”
Edie’s head snapped around. “Did you think I wouldn’t tell Merrilee about something as dangerous as my situation?”
“Honestly, no, I didn’t think you would. But that’s because I judged you against myself and realized I would have done whatever I had to save my skin.”
“I don’t believe that,” she blurted out. “Not for one second.” Her thoughts picked up steam. “You were a medic on the battlefield. You ran from one injured person to the next, trying to do what you could do to save lives, with little more than a pistol.”
“That was my duty,” he bit out.
“No, that’s the type of man you are.” Without knowing why, Edie reached over and covered his hand with hers, her heart doing little flips when his fingers automatically threaded between hers. “You’ve got your faults—we all do—but you’re a good man.”
“You think so?”
The question made her heart throb in pain. Beau was a good man, but he had a troubling fault—placing the value of one life over another—that haunted her. She nodded, unraveling her fingers from his, pressing herself closer to the wall.
The door behind them slammed open. “Thank heavens, you’re still here,” Gertie said, a little bit breathlessly. “I was afraid you might have already left.”
Why would she do that when Gertie was her ride to work? “What are you talking about?”
She took in another huge gulp of air. “Beau, you’ve got to get down to the emergency room.”
“Why?” Beau caught hold of the banister and pulled himself up.
A gloomy pall fell over Gertie, chilling Edie to the bone. “Claire’s being seen by Dr. Lovinggood right now. Merrilee says she’s been trying to get Claire’s fever down all morning and can’t.”
Oh, Lord, please heal Claire’s body, give Dr. Lovinggood peace and wisdom in finding out what is wrong.
Beau’s muscles tightened into a solid fortress beside her. He would do anything for his family. “What does he think it is?”
Gertie hesitated, just like she’d done a million times before when Edie had watched her deliver bad news. “Dr. Lovinggood thinks Claire might have polio.”
Chapter Nineteen
The kerosene lamp flickered in the corner of the hospital waiting room, the shadows dancing across the walls in a slow waltz of light and darkness. Beau leaned his head back, his eyes closed, exhaustion stinging the backs of his eyelids.
This was all his fault. If he hadn’t taken Claire to the picnic with Gertie and her neighborhood, Claire would be up and getting ready for school now. But he’d been selfish, wanting to find a way to spend the day in
Edie’s company.
I broke my promise to John.
“Dr. Lovinggood should have been back by now. What’s taking so long?”
Through tiny slits, he watched Merrilee pace back and forth across the room. Poor woman. Claire was her life. “I’m sure Dr. Lovinggood just wants to do a thorough exam.”
She scrubbed her hand across her face in a helpless gesture. “I just wish we knew something.”
“I know.” Sitting up now, he grabbed her hand when she made another pass by him. “Just remember that Dr. Lovinggood is a good doctor. He’ll come out and talk to us when he’s got news.”
Merrilee squeezed his hand, as if drawing strength from him. “It’s at times like this that I wish…” She broke off.
“What?” Beau tugged on her hand. She dropped down in the seat beside him. “What do you wish?”
But she just shook her head as she stood up again. “I wish the doctor would hurry up.”
Beau watched his aunt walk to the other side of the room. Why did he feel like an opportunity to talk Merrilee about John had just slipped away? Maybe he could maneuver her into the discussion. “You know, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I came home. But Claire, she was a complete surprise. She took to me like a frog to a lily pad.”
Merrilee turned to him and smiled. “You took time with her, talked to her. Of course she loved you on sight.”
“All she’s ever wanted were stories about her dad.”
His aunt crossed her arms over her waist. “I guess that’s normal. Ever since she found out he bought us the house, she’s been asking more about him.”
His next question might be pushing things, but it was time Merrilee made peace with John, even if just for Claire’s sake. “Don’t you think it would be better if John told his daughter about himself?”
Merrilee closed her eyes, but not before a flash of pain raced across her features. “John chose not to be a part of our lives when he filed for divorce.”
“Are you so sure about that, Aunt Merri?”
“Of course, I am. I wrote him letters and letters, telling him how much I wanted him to come home, how much I wanted us to be a family.” She drew in a deep sigh that to Beau seemed almost pained. “But he never came back.”
Beau pushed out of the chair and took several steps to stand in front of Merrilee. “What if things were different and John wanted to come home?”
“He made his choice, Beau.” She gave a defeated little shake of her head.
“How would you feel if he changed his mind?”
“I don’t know.” A sad smile played along the corners of her mouth. “I’ve always wanted Claire to have some kind of relationship with her father.”
She still hadn’t answered his question. “But what about you? How would you feel?”
Merrilee dropped her chin to her chest, her eyes fastened to the checkerboard tile. “That doesn’t really matter, does it?”
But Beau wasn’t so sure about that. The man he’d known like a father had loved his aunt with a single-mindedness that he’d never understood, until now. Loving Edie had given him a new perception of John and Merrilee. Those letters he had mailed off might give his aunt a shot at the happiness she deserved. And he owed her the truth.
“I�
�m sorry, Merrilee.”
The look she gave him was full of confusion. “Sorry for what?”
He explained about the letters he and Edie had found, the ones Merrilee had written to John and how James had stolen them before they made it to the post office. “Maybe if I had stuck around, Dad wouldn’t have gotten away with it for so long.”
Merrilee sat down beside him, her body angled to his, her fingers warm on his hand. “If you’d stayed, there’s a good chance your daddy would have beat you to death. And if you had managed to survive, what kind of man would you have been? Bitter? Scornful?”
Just like his dad.
“I missed you like crazy all those years you were gone.” Merrilee gave him a quick smile. “But I like the man who came home. He’s loving and so protective. A real man of God.”
Was he really the man Merrilee had described? “But I took Claire to that picnic, and now all the kids have polio.”
“Aw, honey. That could have happened to anybody. And you don’t know. She could have picked it up at school.”
A door to the ward opened, illuminating the room in bright light. “Merrilee?”
Beau rose alongside his aunt, holding on to her elbow in case she needed him. “How is my girl, Doctor?”
He pointed to the chairs. “Please have a seat.”
Once they were all seated, Lovinggood began. “Well, we got the fever down, and she’s moving her arms and legs, though not as much as I’d like to see.”
“So it is polio?” Merrilee’s voice broke on the last word.
The portly older man leaned over and clasped Merrilee’s hand between his. “I know it seems like a dire diagnosis, but the majority of our polio patients have no residual effects.”
But Beau was worried. The lack of movement in Claire’s limbs and the concern he read beneath the doctor’s perfect bedside manner bothered him. How would Merrilee cope if Claire was left paralyzed?
“What can we expect next?”
“Well.” The doctor leaned back in his chair, pinching the crown of his nose. “We’ll be watching her condition closely for the next twenty-four hours, make sure she continues to improve on her own. Then we’ll go from there.”
“What if something goes wrong?”
Lovinggood patted her hand. “Now, Merrilee, there’s no sense asking for trouble until it comes knocking on your door.”
Merrilee gave him a noncommittal nod. “Can we see her?”
“Claire’s had a rough night, and when I left her, she was finally falling asleep.”
One look at his aunt’s crestfallen face and Beau knew he had to make a case for her. But Dr. Lovinggood must have seen that same agony flicker across Merrilee’s features because he relented. “Just for a moment then.”
“Thank you!” Merrilee stood along with the doctor then looked back at Beau. “Are you coming with me?”
He shook his head. “Claire’s had enough excitement for one day. I’ll wait for you right here.”
Merrilee hesitated for a moment then nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She followed the doctor into the ward, the door closing behind them casting the room in semidarkness, his conversation with Merrilee fresh on his mind. Was it possible that his aunt was still in love with John even now, all these years later? She’d talked of his decision to give up on their marriage, but what about her?
If only he could talk to Edie.
Beau stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing one ankle over the other. As soon as he got Merrilee settled for the night, he’d go over to the Stephenses’ and help Edie and Gertie nurse their young patients through this epidemic. Not because he liked taking care of sick kids—though he had to admit, he did—but to be close to Edie. To work out whatever problem was bothering her.
And tell her how much he loved her.
“Beau?”
He lifted his head from his chest and watched Maggie, still outfitted in the jumpsuit she’d left the house in yesterday, cross the room. “Have you heard any news about Claire Bear?”
“Only that they finally got her fever down and she’s resting. Merrilee’s in with her now.”
She sat down in the chair next to him. “Is it polio?”
Beau gave her a slight nod.
Maggie leaned back in her chair, her arms wrapped in a protective embrace around her waist. “How is Merrilee handling it?”
“You know Merrilee. She’s probably been praying since Claire’s temperature went up half a degree.”
Maggie chuckled. “Probably before that.”
Maybe his cousin could help him. “Could you take Merrilee home for me? I need to get out to the Stephenses’ house.”
“Is it true what I heard? That Dr. Lovinggood told Gertie not to bring anymore sick kids here because there are no more beds on the Negro floor?”
Beau thought he might snap his jaw, he was grinding his teeth so tightly together. “Where did you hear that?”
“One of Gertie’s friends upstairs was getting off work and told me that. What are they going to do?”
Great, news of a polio outbreak in the Negro community would just fuel fires. Well, maybe he could put them out before they got started. “We’re going to move the sickest ones into the Stephenses’ house so we can keep a closer eye on them. Edie’s looking after the ones who aren’t as ill.”
A good plan, considering. Now to scour the hospital inventory for supplies before he headed over to the Stephenses’ neighborhood himself. And if Dr. Lovinggood got in his way…
But it all depended on Maggie. “So will you stay?”
Maggie nodded. “I figured you’d want to get over there as quick as you could.”
“First, I’ve got to get some things.” Beau stood, eyeing the door to the ward with wariness. “Even if I have to march in there and punch the good doctor in the mouth to get supplies.”
A giggle made him jerk his head toward his cousin. “Have I told you how glad I am to have you home?”
He smiled down at her. “Me, too, cousin.”
“Now go!” Maggie leaned back in her chair to get as comfortable as she could. “And if it’s anywhere near as bad as I’ve been told, let me know. I’ll find you some help.”
* * *
“I’m so cold, Ms. Edie.” The little girl huddled under the threadbare bedclothes, her tiny limbs shaking like leaves trembling in a tornado. Her dark eyes blazed up at Edie, bright with fever.
“Let me see if I can find you another blanket, Ramona dearest.” Edie pushed up the thin blankets and tucked them tightly around the girl’s small frame.
She flung the covers from her body, snatching Edie’s hand in a tight hold. “Don’t go. I’m scared.”
Edie nodded, pressing her hand over Ramona’s cool fingers. Of course the child was scared. The last of the Barnes children to come down with the virus, she’d been in the same bed when her older sister, Bea, had taken ill. Best to get her mind occupied with something else. “Would you like me to sing you a song?”
“Me and Bea like to sing ‘Jesus Loves the Little Children,’” she whispered through chattering teeth. “Do you know that one?”
Edie answered by humming softly, recalling the last time she’d heard the song, of Beau reciting the verses to comfort her. Her lips tingled at the memory. In that moment, she’d had such hope that all would work out, that maybe she would get the chance to tell Beau just how much she loved him.
A moan from the bed drew Edie’s attention back to the little girl. She’d hope that despite the fever racking Ramona’s poor little body, the child might get some needed rest. Within a few minutes, the death grip the girl had on Edie’s hand slackened. She studied Ramona for a moment. Although the girl still shivered, she took deep, even breaths.
Leaning her head back, Edie shut her eyes. The situation in Gertie’s neighborhood had been far worse than anything she’d experienced at the hospital. Almost every child and several of the younger adults had been infected with the virus. And w
ith no supplies and no available beds at the hospital, several of the sicker children hovered close to death.
Gertie stuck her head inside the room. “How are things in here?”
“I think Ramona’s finally asleep.” Edie extracted her hand from the child’s grip. She stood, stretching her back out, moving from side to side to ease the vague ache in her muscles. “I only wish we had more blankets.”
“Wait right here.” Gertie left, only to return a few moments later with a beautiful quilt made from strips of royal blue and gold. “Ask and you shall receive.”
Edie unfolded it, recognizing Merrilee’s tight, clean stitches. “Where did you get hold of this?”
Gertie shook out one corner of the quilt, unleashing a wave of blue and gold. “Captain Hicks brought a whole mess of them by when he dropped Beau off.”
“Beau’s here?” The thought woke her out of the working stupor she’d been in since the first child had taken ill.
“Not at the moment, but I’m expecting him back any time now.” She tucked one edge of the quilt under the mattress. “He drove one of the more severe cases to the hospital.”
But Dr. Lovinggood had refused any more of their patients, and the closest hospital accepting Negroes was in Atlanta. Edie grabbed one end of the quilt and tugged it tight. “I thought her parents didn’t want to go to Crawford Long.”
“They didn’t.” Gertie tucked the blanket around the little girl. “Don’t ask me how, but Beau talked Dr. Lovinggood into moving some beds up to the Negro floor. From what I gather, he made a big stink about it.”
Edie smiled to herself. Yes, that was the Beau she loved, always raising a ruckus. If given the right reasons, she added to herself.
“He also managed to squeeze some supplies out of the doctor—blankets, washcloths, aspirin, even enough rubbing alcohol to sponge down every feverish kid in the neighborhood.”
“That’s wonderful.” And it was, but what had she expected from Beau? He might have reservations about helping Gertie’s community, but it was because he feared for their safety, both the Stephenses’ and hers. And now this. Why had she ever doubted him? Because she’d judged him against everyone else, against her experience with her father.
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