She was broke. She and Betsy didn’t have a cent.
She looked up to meet his sympathetic eyes. “We’ve all had to make a lot of adjustments over the years,” he told her. “Everything is hitting you at once.”
Tears welled to her eyes, brought there by his gentle kindness. “I just feel so stupid. I should have worked all these details out before I came.”
“How? What could you have done so?”
She considered. “Precious metals, gold and silver, maybe diamonds.”
He smiled. “We haven’t a lot of need for those things, nor the wealth to invest in them. For us the basic necessities of life are food, shelter, warmth in winter, education for our children.”
Reproved, she felt her face flush, though she knew he hadn’t intended for her to take it that way. “My skills aren’t exactly practical ones. I can’t sew, don’t know how to cook on something like that range in your kitchen. At college I studied psychology and planned to work as a school counselor, though I never actually held a job.” She paused, knowing she was most likely talking a foreign language to him. No doubt they had no recognized need for a counselor here. She wasn’t likely to draw in a large clientele if she set up shop in the square.
“You’re a bright and gifted person. You’ll find plenty of opportunity here in Lavender.” He hesitated as though trying to think how to put something, than went on, “But don’t worry, Dad and I will be happy to see that you and Betsy are taken care of until you’ve made your decision.”
She frowned. “I can take care of us!”
“No doubt.” He broke into that engaging smile that so lighted what was in repose such a solemn face. “But until people have a little time to adjust to your presence, we’d like to keep the two of you to ourselves. Just for a little while,” he coaxed.
Maybe it was the long dark jacket he wore, or the style of his hair. Perhaps it was just that cragged, serious face, but she thought irrelevantly that he looked a little like a young Johnny Cash. Nobody would call him handsome, but he exerted a strong, masculine attraction.
Mentally she yanked back to the matter being discussed. “Are you saying that people are bothered because we came here?”
“You might say there is some resentment,” he said cautiously.
Suddenly she felt angry all over. After all she’d gone through to get Betsy to the safety of this town and now to find out they weren’t welcome! She felt like a little girl excluded from a birthday party when everybody else in the class was invited. She was more hurt than mad, Cynthia decided.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she snapped.
It took him several thoughtful minutes to come up with an answer. “We’ve been cut off from the rest of the world for several years now. Some people feel threatened by change.”
“What? Like we’re going to insist on computers and Jaguars and voting rights for women? I know this is a different time, I’ll try not to impose modern values on it.”
He looked confused. “A jaguar is a cat.”
“It’s also an automobile,” she snapped, then took pity on him. “What do the people of your town have to fear from us, Evan?”
People in Lavender seemed to be enjoying a spell of good health because Evan only had one patient that afternoon and that was Billy Watson, who brought his dog Sam in for a recheck. He’d patched the animal up after he’d been the loser in a fight. Both of the community’s two animal doctors had been out in the country on calls at the time of the emergency so Billy had thought the people doctor was the next best thing.
Sam was doing fine, but Billy was still anxious and now convinced that Dr. Stephens should not only look after him, but Sam as well.
After Sam’s recovering wounds had been examined and Billy sent happily on his way, Evan was thrown back on his own thoughts.
He hadn’t done the right thing with Cynthia. She deserved to know the truth and he’d deliberately left her with misinformation. Oh, sure, there were some in town who thought she was a woman of ill repute because they weren’t sophisticated enough to understand that in that other time in the future, the way she’d been dressed when she came to town was just normal. He knew that from old Maud who went around in denim pants and sloppy shirts as well as cowboy boots and certainly didn’t pretend to be a femme fatale.
And there were those who thought she might have superior airs because she had a wider experience of life than anybody else in town. After all, not everybody had voted for the lockdown of Lavender. Grandpa said they couldn’t expect everybody to agree, though they’d all had to abide with the majority decision.
None of it would have worked if even one single person had left Lavender. Then the sacrifice would have been worthless.
But that, he knew, was the crux of the issue now. Several of his neighbors had already talked to him about it. By bringing two strangers into town had he exposed them all to danger?
And, equally awful, had he put Cynthia and Betsy at risk?
He shook his head, saying to himself that he hadn’t done it intentionally. That was like little kids yelling that whatever had happened was not their fault, that the other kid had started it.
No excuses. He’d inherited some of the oddity in his grandfather’s blood and he’d wanted her here, he’d desperately wanted Cynthia to join him behind the barrier, even though he would never have made that conscious choice.
But now he had to face facts. Against every natural inclination, he got wearily to his feet. He had to go find Cynthia and try to explain things to her. She didn’t have to know everything, but she had to realize he had a very good reason for insisting on keeping her and Betsy safe in the house for the next few weeks.
It was a beautiful day and Cynthia decided to soothe nerves jangling from her set-to with Evan by taking Betsy for a little stroll. After spending the morning helping Mrs. Myers with the housework, she felt entitled to a break.
When she found Betsy and Eddie watching Mrs. Myers putting together a honey-sweetened peach cobbler for dinner, however, Betsy turned down her suggestion. “I’m learning how to bake,” she said importantly. “Mrs. Myers is letting me make my own cobbler.”
On the other hand, Eddie, who looked bored, jumped down from the high stool she was using as an observer. “I’ll go with you. You need somebody to show you around town.”
Amused, Cynthia politely accepted and the two of them went outside together. “How come you don’t have school today?”
“It’s Friday,” the girl answered as though that explained everything.
Several neighbors were out working in their yards or gardens. Everybody seemed to have a garden. Each one looked away instead of greeting them. Not even a smile came their way.
“I always thought small towns were supposed to be friendly,” she said wistfully, watching a round little woman whacking at a weed, her back turned to them.
“I’m not popular,” Eddie said matter-of-factly.
“Actually, Eddie, I think it’s probably me they are avoiding, not you. Your father explained to me that it will probably take a while for them to accept me since I’m such a stranger. In fact, he wants Betsy and me to stay pretty much to ourselves for a while. I’m sure everyone likes you.”
“Nope. They say Papa spoils me and lets me run wild.” She considered, her slim, freckled face thoughtful. “It’s kind of true. Papa’s awful busy and he doesn’t mind anyhow that I’m different.”
The girl seemed so serious that Cynthia couldn’t help being amused. “How different?”
“I don’t like to play with dolls. I like to climb trees and run and play baseball. Girls don’t like those things.”
“I always did.” After the words were out, she thought maybe she shouldn’t have said them. Maybe this was what Evan had been talking about when he said people were afraid that she would bring changing ideas from the future to their little town. Expectations for little girls were different in the 1890s.
She tried hard to keep the words back, but somehow
looking at Eddie’s sensitive face, they just popped out. “Where I come from girls play a variety of sports. Not everybody likes the same thing.”
“Betsy is going to be popular,” Eddie said glumly. “She likes all the right things. Mrs. Myers is teaching her to sew and cook and grow pretty flowers. And she’s friendly and smiles a lot. Everybody at school will like her.”
Cynthia hardly knew what to say. “I’m sure they like you too,” she said helplessly.
Eddie answered scornfully. “My grandpapa says I’m too blunt, that I say right out loud what I think. He says I’ve got to learn to be polite and tactful.”
“I like outspoken people,” Cynthia said firmly. This child certainly needed some affirmation in her life. What had Evan been thinking to let her get in this kind of mental state?
“Me too. I hate sneaky people who are nice to your face, and then talk about you behind your back.”
Cynthia nodded. They reached the end of the block and instead of crossing the street and heading on toward the downtown square, she turned the corner and continued in the residential area. Evan wouldn’t like them going to the town center. No doubt that was why she and Betsy had been taken shopping in the early morning before many people were around.
They had left the brick surface behind and were now walking on a dirt street. The houses were a little less ornate, but were still big homes designed for large families. A group of children played at the end of the street, chanting to a game that was unfamiliar to Cynthia.
“They’re playing Red Rover,” Eddie explained softly. “Some girls don’t like it because it can be hard to break through.”
As Cynthia stopped to watch, she saw that the youngsters formed lines, linking hands and stood with the two lines facing each other. Then the members of the line closest to them, chanted, “Red Rover, Red Rover, Let Frank come over.”
A thin boy who looked about Eddie’s age shook loose from the hands holding his and ran hard between two boys in the opposing line, who visibly strengthened their grip on each other to hold him, but he broke through with such force that the smaller of the boys tumbled to the ground while the other children broke into laughter and a few called out teasing remarks.
Both boys and girls were playing and Cynthia, glancing at Eddie, saw the look on her face. She so much wanted to be included!
“You don’t have to walk with me. You can play Red Rover with your friends.”
“No,” Eddie protested softly as though she didn’t want to be overheard. “They’re not my friends.”
“You’re just being shy.” Cynthia approached the group and putting on her best manners asked politely, “Don’t you have room for one more? I’m sure Eddie would be good at this game. She can run fast.”
Even though she obviously would have liked to have hung back, Eddie advanced bravely at Cynthia’s side. With dismay Cynthia saw the look on the kids’ faces and realized that she’d just made a big mistake. For whatever reason, they really didn’t want Eddie to join them.
“You couldn’t pay me to play with them,” Eddie announced in a loud voice. “Come on, Mrs. Burden, let’s go.”
She reached for Cynthia’s hand. Suddenly a large, heavily built man came running from around the side of the house, stumbling in his anxiety to reach them, but keeping on his feet to place himself between them and the group of kids.
His face turned bright red and he was puffing as he yelled, “You! Get out of here! Stay away from these children.”
He must be out of his mind. Cynthia might have been raised in a sheltered environment, but young ladies in an exclusive boarding school had taught her early to stand up for herself. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Why are you acting like this?” Too blunt. She remembered what Eddie had said earlier of her father’s advice about being tactful. Well, too bad.
She stuck out her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Cynthia Burden and I’m new in town . . .”
She didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence.
He backed fearfully away from her, than yelled to the kids. “Run! Get in the house! You’ll be safe there.”
Cynthia watched in horror as screaming children tumbled into each other and up on the wide front porch, falling in their eagerness to obey. The man, his face now drained of color, followed them, slamming the door loudly once they were all inside.
She stood frozen in place for a minute, than she looked at the surprisingly calm Eddie.
“You can’t be that unpopular,” she managed to joke.
Eddie laughed out loud. “That wasn’t about me. Not this time. It’s you. Maybe we’d better go back home before they start throwing rocks.”
She followed the little girl, breathing more easily once they’d rounded the corner on to Crockett Street and the big gray house was visible ahead. “What was that all about?” she finally asked.
“They’re scared,” Eddie said, leading the way at a rapid clip. “We need to tell Papa.”
“Scared of me?”
“They’re afraid they’d going to get sick. They think you might’ve brought some awful disease from the outside world.”
“Me? I’ve had all my shots and I’m hardly ever sick. My mom always said I was disgustingly healthy.”
“I’m not afraid of you. Neither is Papa. Grandpapa not so much, though he did say they should send me to live with Mrs. Murphy until they were sure.”
“Sure of what? That I’m not going to come down with measles or chicken pox?” By the time they went up the walk and through the front door, she was beginning to shake with delayed reaction. She’d never seen such mob fear before. It was like something out of a horror movie. And that awful man and those poor children, they’d been afraid of her!
“Not that,” Eddie said cheerfully. “They’re afraid of plague. They’re afraid they’ll all die.”
Betsy was just coming toward the door as they went in. “You’d better not go out,” Eddie told her. “It’s not safe out there.”
Cynthia sent the girls to Mrs. Myers in the kitchen and went looking for Evan. She found him in his office, studying some papers. She planted herself in front of him. “Plague?” she asked pointedly.
He looked up in surprise, then something like a wary look crossed his face that made her wonder exactly what he was keeping from her.
Chapter Thirteen
She was all sparkle and fire, standing there in front of him, her brown hair shining with dark red lights where the sun from the big windows streamed in on her. His throat seemed to close and his heart beat faster and at that moment he couldn’t feel sorry that she was here.
By unconsciously allowing her to come, he had put her and Betsy and possibly others at risk. No, his medical sense protested, not after nearly eight years! Surely they were as safe as anybody else by now.
“Not plague,” he said. “Though some call it that. It was influenza.”
She sank down in one of the chairs normally reserved for patients who came to his office for consultation. “Flu? These people are afraid we’ll give them flu? But Betsy and I both had our shots back in October.”
He closed his eyes in sudden relief. “They have vaccinations for influenza in your time? What a blessing.”
She seemed puzzled. “It doesn’t prevent all cases,” she tried to explain, “but it cuts down the incidents a whole lot. Flu can be dangerous for the very young and the very old, you know.”
He nodded weakly. “I certainly know. We lost precious members of our population back then and they were of all ages. Nothing we could do could save them.”
“You said that was eight years ago?”
“Almost.”
“But that’s when . . .that’s when you said it all started.” Her face was nearly healed of its more visible injuries, he noted irrelevantly. The blackness around the eye fading, the red patches lighter. Her forehead was creased in questioning lines.
He allowed his body to sag in surrender. “What happened that you heard this a
ccusation of carrying plague?”
She looked down at her own feet. “Eddie and I went for a short walk. A man went off on us and created something of a scene. There were some children Eddie wanted to play with and he wouldn’t let us near them.”
“I was afraid something like that might happen.” He paused, trying to think how to explain, but when her lips parted as though she would ask another question, he motioned her to silence. He had no choice now but to tell her the truth even though he’d hoped to spare her unnecessary worry.
“The first thing I need to tell you is that medically speaking I feel the risk is minimal, but anybody who went through what we did is bound to be a little irrational.”
“A little,” she scoffed. “That man was out of his mind.”
He nodded. “I was finishing medical school in the east and beginning my first practice. Jenny and I were newly married and hoping to start a family. We were caught up in our own lives and not very aware of what was going on back here in Lavender.”
She nodded sympathetically at the mention of his wife.
“Then Grandpa wrote that things were desperate in Lavender with many people ill and he needed my help. He warned me that the sickness appeared highly contagious and he was placing me at risk by asking me to return home.”
“How could he do that?” she asked indignantly. “Put his own grandson in mortal danger?”
His smile was bleak. “I’m a doctor, as he was. We had to look after the people in our own hometown.”
She frowned as though she wanted to argue with this.
“I understand how you feel. That’s why I insisted Jenny stay with her family in Pennsylvania. But I came home and found that over the past winter the illness had seemed to start in one corner of the county out at a pig farm.”
“Swine flu.” She nodded.
He frowned at her. “Grandpa did tell me he thought it had started with the animals, but the best medicine says that animals and humans don’t pass disease from one to the other. Anyway, people who caught the illness were very sick and required a lot of care and it was spreading rapidly. So many people were sick that Grandpa had to have help. We made it through the winter with only two deaths.” He couldn’t keep back a sigh. Each death in Lavender was of a person he knew well. Each one weighed heavily on his heart.
Letters From Another Town: A Time Travel Romance (Lavender, Texas Series Book 2) Page 9