She helped him try on shirts until they found one that fit his shoulders, though it was a near thing when he flexed his back. Ripping the seams apart was a distinct possibility. And the sleeves were rather short, so he rolled them up his forearms, which solved the problem nicely. He had solid, muscular arms, worker's arms. If only he could remember why. The trousers were a bit more difficult, with his splint. The splint could not come off for another week, and he could hardly go about with no pants. Between them, they found a solution. Mrs. Perkins brought a seam ripper and took out much of the outer seam of the left leg. The remaining seam kept him decent, and the opened leg flopped a bit when he used his crutches, but it was quite a workable solution. Once again, things were a bit short, but there was nothing to be done about it.
"I don't suppose there are boots to be had?" he queried after Mrs. Perkins stepped back to admire her handiwork.
She folded her arms across her ample bosom. "Miss Charity had some trouble with that. She's canvassing the townsfolk who have been previously generous to her charities. I have no doubt she'll come up with something."
"Miss Charity is gracious. An angel."
"Yes," Mrs. Perkins agreed. "She devotes herself to her charitable causes. Her name means something to her."
"So it seems. Do you think I'd be welcome in the parlor again today?"
"I have no idea, but doubt you'd be unwelcome. Let us ask Miss Verity. I'll go get her."
Verity returned and the three decided that Joshua would be welcome at the luncheon table, which was only a few minutes from being set. Both Mrs. Perkins and Verity left him alone to go prepare the repast.
Alone, he sat thinking about his mother, about his name, giving himself a headache trying to remember more. But nothing came forward.
* * *
Luncheon was uncomfortable for Verity, though Joshua seemed to fit right in. They'd propped his splinted leg on an extra dining chair, which isolated him a bit from the remainder of the family, but not enough to prevent him from sharing a light flirtation with all of her sisters. Each of them was given compliments and wry humor from him. Hope was the one who encouraged him.
"It is such a relief to know your name, Joshua." She gave him a bright smile. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you? I mean, I could continue to call you Mr. Smith, which would certainly be more proper, but—"
"Joshua is perfectly fine, under the circumstances, Miss Hope."
"Nonsense. If you are to be called Joshua, then you must call me Hope." Her eyes, with their warm twinkle, said there was more she'd like to be called by Joshua.
"The ever-beautiful Hope?" Joshua asked before taking another bite of bream.
"Ahem," Dr. Bucknell said from the head of the table as he frowned at Hope.
Verity watched Joshua smoothly bridge the divide. "My apologies, Dr. Bucknell." He addressed Hope next, "I think we must take conditions into account, Miss Hope, and propriety, no matter what the circumstances, should win."
"Oh, bother," Hope muttered. A moment later, she gave him another bright smile. "I must say, you look splendid in your new suit of clothes, Joshua."
He laughed. Verity thought it was a bit of a nervous laugh. "We have Miss Charity to thank for that. Let me thank you again for securing them for me, ma'am."
Charity added her smile to the group. Verity listened without comment or outward reaction. She wished everyone would just be quiet and eat their food. As it was, all she could do was push it around on her plate.
"It was my great pleasure, Joshua. I'm still working on shoes. I have some prospects in mind. I may have to wait for next Sunday's church service to see the gentlemen I plan to ask."
"Your stockinged feet are not offensive, Joshua," Hope told him. "Why, I wish more of us could be so carefree! Don't you, Mercy?" She elbowed her silent sister sitting on her left.
"Carefree. Sure. Do you find the fish overdone?" Mercy complained.
"It is delicious," Charity said. "I'm surprised you even notice, you're so lost in your head all the time."
"I have work," Mercy argued. "I don't sit around and do needlework all day. The things I do have value to the world."
"Well, I never!" Charity said with an uncharacteristic frown.
"Sisters," Verity said, stepping in. "This is neither the time, nor the place for an argument. We are at table and Joshua is our guest."
"I was being nice, Verity," Hope said.
"Don't be such a sourpuss," Charity chided Verity. "You forget you are not our mother."
Time for their father to step in. Unfortunately, it was Verity he reprimanded. "Verity, I think you are embarrassing our guest by making a fuss."
Joshua, dratted man, chose that moment to speak. "I am not offended. Families have disagreements occasionally, but they still love each other, right?"
"So true, Joshua," Charity said, bestowing him with her smile again. "Do you remember your family, Joshua? Do you have a large family?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. But in some ways, not remembering is enlivening. I have no memories to fetter me or make me behave in any way but my true nature. Maybe I was an undertaker in my former life, but now I don't have to greedily hope for a cholera epidemic to make me rich. However, in a town the size of Virtue, perhaps being an undertaker is a less trying post. I should make enquiries; don't you think?" His grin was wide and he winked.
Her sisters tittered at that. No one, including Verity herself, could imagine Joshua replacing Mr. Smithers, their dower, often complaining, mortician.
However, despite the flattery and jokes, Mercy was hostile.
"How do you know, Mr. Smith, that your new name is not a brother's, father's, cousin's, friend's, or the name of a child of yours?"
Verity watched everyone turn to him expectantly. He frowned.
"I do not know, Miss Mercy. Those things might be true. I do remember a woman, whom I believe is my mother, calling me by that name."
"Perhaps she was your aunt or a school marm," Mercy persisted.
His frown was replaced by a bland expression. "Perhaps."
"Let us not dwell on unpleasant maybes," Charity suggested. "Let us rejoice that Joshua has found a name."
Verity's father, who was, as always during mealtimes, focused on his food, agreed. "No need to look for trouble where it might not exist."
"It is a happy day. What might make it brighter?" Hope asked, enthusiasm tinging her voice.
"I don't know," Joshua said, his warm gaze touching on all the women. "With lovely companions such as yourselves, a man couldn't ask for more."
Mercy was not giving up so easily or accepting his flattery. "Isn't it time for Mr. Smith to move to the hotel?"
Verity's heart skipped a beat. Although she'd vowed not to have anything physical to do with Joshua since their episode, she loathed giving him up so soon. But Mercy was right. It was time to separate him from the family. His flirtatious nature could prove destructive to their peace at home. She said nothing, however, because of her indecision.
"Perhaps I should. I can get around now," Joshua agreed.
"I have a better idea," Charity said, turning to her father. "Papa, can Joshua board with us for a while? Surely he'll remember more about himself in time."
"Hmm," he responded, giving Joshua a sharp look, assessing the younger man.
"He can't pay for boarding, Charity," Mercy said, once again taking them down a difficult road.
"Don't present such a bugbear," Hope told her twin. "Can you not see that Joshua is perfectly decent?"
"He is, of course. And I'm sure he will prove resourceful in time," Charity argued. "Papa?"
Verity saw her chances for avoiding Joshua becoming slimmer and slimmer. "We might need the guest room for another patient."
This time it was Hope who spoke. "Nonsense, Verity. We've used that room for a patient perhaps one other time this past year. It would be perfect for Joshua while his memory is lost."
"We would take care of him," Charity offered as though he wa
s a new puppy. "Papa, please say something."
Their father nodded with a definitive dip of his chin. "Yes, I agree. But we must keep a tally of his boarding costs." He focused on Joshua. "Young man, I expect you to pay your way as soon as you're able to walk without crutches, regardless of the state of your memory."
Verity's heart sang and, conversely, her stomach dropped. Confusion made her cheeks hot, so she stared down at her full plate to hide the blush. He'd be in the house. He'd have a room. He would take meals with them, see them every day, perhaps flirt more with her sisters, but not with her. She would see to that. She would not laugh at his jokes nor be flattered by his compliments. She staunchly refused to fall under his spell again. No, they'd been too intimate, and he had regrets as much as she did. Or, she assumed he did. How could he not? And he hadn't suggested marriage despite their affair. He'd made love to the least attractive, most bookish of the five Bucknell sisters. She had red hair, not the coveted blonde. Charity was enthusiastic about him; so was Hope. Faith had yet to meet him, but it was likely she'd enjoy Joshua's company as well. Faith liked anyone who would keep the conversation going. But she would also spread gossip about their new boarder, and who knew what that would be? It was possible, however unlikely, that Faith would ferret out the relationship between Joshua and herself, and tell someone. She had several confidants in town.
"Why don't we ask Joshua what he'd like to do?" Verity suggested, turning toward Joshua, hoping he'd rather be independent.
"I believe I can honorably say I'd pay you back, Dr. Bucknell. But, as I'm lacking in resources entirely, I can't say when or how. Are you sure my presence will not disrupt the household?" He glanced briefly at Verity, a telling glance, if ever she saw one. Her body got hot and tingly but she fought the feeling of a shared secret, an intimate secret. She hoped no one saw either his look or her reaction.
Her father waved a fork-filled hand. "I think you have integrity, Joshua," he said. "I believe we can trust you."
Oh, what a rude awakening her father would have if only he knew! Why, Joshua could seduce all the sisters, one at a time, for all they knew about him. And it would serve them right, inviting a potential viper into their home. Verity didn't think he was a viper, though. She sensed a calm honesty blanketing him. Nonetheless, no one knew for sure, and she could have the wrong impression of him. Judging by his flirtatious comments to her sisters, he could be quite the womanizer in his real life. But she gave up, undecided on whether she could resist temptation as she should. She would, that's all, she would!
Joshua smiled, and Verity's determination cracked, despite the brick wall she was trying to build to protect herself. He had such a beautiful smile, and his startling blue eyes crinkled at the corners. "I appreciate your confidence in me, Dr. Bucknell," he said. "I shall do my utmost to repay the favor."
Charity clapped her hands together loudly, Mercy frowned, and Hope smiled broadly.
Their father gestured with his fork again. "I'm sure you will, my boy. Now eat your food. You need the strength, if you are to attend to the task."
"Yes, sir," Joshua replied. He shot a hot look at Verity, but suppressed it a moment later, turning to the food on his plate.
Verity's appetite vanished. Nothing good could come of this. Nothing good at all.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Joshua broke his fast with the whole family. Faith was present, and had scads of questions to ask him, starting with a pointed question about his memory of his mother. Verity thought the questions were a bit forward and prying, but Faith ignored Verity's chastising glance.
"Joshua," she began, a lock of bright red hair bobbing at the crown of her head. Only she and Verity had the same red hair as their father, but despite that, Verity wasn't as close to Faith as she was to Charity. "Joshua, do you remember any other family member when the woman you presume to be your mother spoke to you? Was there another child with you? Do you remember how old you were? Did you have impressions along those lines?"
Joshua indulged her with a smile, though he had a mouth full of food and couldn't answer right away. "I was a child, that I can say for certain. My impression is that I was small compared to the person I think is my mother. Half her size, I think. I can't picture her. I only hear her voice. If there was another child or family member there, the memory hasn't returned to me."
"Oh, how sad," Faith said. "It just goes to show how important a mother is in a child's life. Ours was the center of the family before she passed away."
"I miss her," Hope added.
"We all do," Verity said.
"I think my mother is still alive," he said, looking a bit startled at the revelation.
"You do?" Verity asked.
"Yes. Yes, I do. I wonder where she is?"
"The memories certainly seem disjointed, Mr. Smith," Mercy pointed out. "Are you sure you don't remember more? Could you be keeping anything from us, accidentally of course?" It was clear that Mercy had added the last phrase just to mollify their father, who had given her a sharp look. They weren't polite questions.
Verity had to admit to herself that the thought had crossed her mind. Was it a ruse on Joshua's part? Could he be ingratiating himself with the family hoping to steal something? Something beyond her virginity. She tried to regret it, but so many aspects of those moments brought pleasure. Fulfillment entailed finding a man who could meet her new-found needs, like Joshua had. The probability was dim, however. She had done as she wished at the time, and devil take the consequences. It wouldn't do to fool oneself by thinking he had acted without her encouragement. Her act of brazenness made her wonder about why she'd never felt that way before. Why Joshua and no other?
Faith was persistent, though quite friendly about it. "I'll bet you were a very young child, Joshua. I'll bet your mother loved you. I wonder where your father was. I wonder if you took after him, or if you take after your mother. You don't remember anything about your father?"
"No, Miss Faith, not a thing."
"A shame. Judging from the memory you shared, and your brawny arms, I'd guess that he was a hard-working man who taught you how to be strong and productive."
"How in heaven's name would you know that?" Verity snapped. There had been too many times over the past week that Verity had posited the same things in her own mind.
Faith shrugged, blue eyes twinkling with mischief at Verity's chastisement. "Just guessing, of course. Isn't it fun to guess?"
Joshua laughed, but Verity thought it a false laugh, one voiced out of politeness rather than agreement.
"This is not a game," Verity told her.
"No, of course not," Charity chimed in. "But we are all so curious. And perhaps it will bring on more memories. We've seen it this morning as Joshua remembered that his mother is alive."
"Perhaps he's stuck in the past," Mercy said, being negative once again. "Perhaps he's remembering something from last year, or the year before. He doesn't know, do you, Mr. Smith?"
Polite smile fading away, Joshua answered. "No, I don't know for certain, Miss Mercy. I do have faith that it will return in time. Hope springs eternal."
"Now you need to mention Verity and Charity, Joshua," Hope teased. Everyone laughed.
Mrs. Perkins came forward with more coffee, and spoke to Dr. Bucknell. "There's a patient in the treatment room, Dr. Bucknell. He's got a powerful cough."
Pushing his unfinished plate away, the older man stood. "Then I'd best get to it. Girls, Joshua, thank you for your company."
"We will see you for luncheon, Father, will we not?" Charity asked.
"I'm not sure, my dear. I have several calls to make around town. I've lingered rather too long as it is. I will see you at supper, if not before."
Joshua offered, "If there is anything I can do around here to make life easier, I hope you'll tell me, sir. Or, you ladies must tell me. I am not one to be idle for long."
"You're not?" Mercy's voice was sharp. "How do you know? So far, idleness hasn't seemed to bother you.
Why the sudden change?"
"Mercy!" said Hope. "Mind your manners." She looked over at Joshua. "I apologize for my sister."
"No need," Joshua said diplomatically.
Mercy stood, her face pinched when she said, "I have a project I need to see to. Excuse me."
"Of course, Mercy," Verity told her. "We shall see you later."
"Indeed," the younger woman said. "Unless I'm too busy." She stalked off.
Verity sighed. Joshua had won everyone over but Mercy. And her sister was not a dull tack. If she had reservations, they were not foolish. Verity herself had reservations, despite her behavior with Joshua. Unfortunately, those doubts hadn't prevented her from falling into sin.
Charity spoke into the awkward silence. "You must excuse Mercy, Joshua. She is sometimes preoccupied with her projects and a big gruff as a result. She means no harm."
"No harm done," he told them. "What kind of projects does she work on?"
"She's an inventor of sorts," Hope said, pride in her voice. "She makes machines that do things. I believe she's working on a new type of phonograph. She's hoping to submit it to Mr. Alexander Graham Bell when she's done. She took our phonograph apart to make her invention. It's quite inconvenient for those of us who like music."
"That's very impressive," he said. "Perhaps she can patent it."
"Have you ever heard a phonograph?" Hope asked.
"No, I don't think so. I have heard a player piano, however. It didn't sound much like a real piano, however."
"You remembered something new, Joshua," Verity pointed out. What would be next? A wife? A home?
Charity piped in. "This is so exciting! One memory at a time, Joshua, you are filling in your life! Do you recall where you heard the player?"
"I want to say Philadelphia, but I can't be sure."
"The centennial expo was there in 1876," Hope said, her finger on her lips as she thought. "Perhaps you were there."
The Doctor's Daughter: A Virtue, Arizona Novel Page 5