The Flyer

by Marjorie Jones

  Immortality.

  All wrapped up in pink-and-blue ribbons.

  “Mrs. McIntyre,” Helen announced. When her voice caught in the back of her throat, she forced a cough. “Mrs. McIntyre?”

  Red-rimmed eyes lifted to Helen. “Is she dead?”

  “No! Heavens, no. She’s breathing normally, and there’s no water in her lungs. We’ll need to wait until she wakes to assess any real damage. We’ll know more in a few hours. Who pulled her out?”

  “I did.” A young boy with the same glowing red hair as the McIntyre girls was standing in front of the upright piano. While his hair had dried to the fiery shade, his clothes were still wet. “Is my sister going to die?”

  “Joshua! Didn’t you hear the doctor? Of course, she isn’t going to die,” announced Mr. McIntyre.

  “Joshua, can you tell me what happened?” Helen held her hand out to the young man, who slid around the chair as though he was afraid she might bite him. “It’s fine. I won’t hurt you.”

  He took her hand, and she led him down the hall where they could speak privately. If what she suspected was true, he might not want to announce it in front of his parents.

  “Tell me what happened, please, Joshua. If I know how she was hurt, I’ll be able to help her get well much faster.”

  “We were running along the edge of the water, and she fell in.”

  “Josh—may I call you Josh?” The boy nodded twice, then fixed his gaze on his folded hands. “Thank you. I think there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” He quickly tossed a glance over his shoulder, paused when something caught his eye, then faced down the hall again.

  Helen looked over her shoulder to make sure his parents weren’t listening. His parents weren’t, but Paul had moved into the foyer and was studying her carefully. When she escorted Joshua closer to her office, she could still feel the intensity of Paul’s gaze on her back.

  “You won’t be in any trouble,” she continued. “You can tell me everything that happened.”

  “We weren’t supposed to play so close to the river. Dad and Mum will blame me if she dies.”

  “Why would she die? She got a little wet and hit her head, but I can’t see where that would be life threatening. She only has a little bump. What I can’t figure out is why she won’t wake. Can you help me figure that out?”

  “She didn’t fall into the water. She was running like the wind. I could barely keep up with her, then she screamed and fell down.”

  “She hit her head on a branch, maybe?”

  “No, ma’am. She hit her head after she fell down. Then she slid into the water.”

  That would explain the mud in her shoes. Helen frowned. If she hadn’t hit her head, causing her to lose her balance and fall into the river … then what?

  “Doc! Come quickly!” Nanara shouted from the exam room.

  Helen dropped Josh’s hand and hurried to Marla’s bedside. She was convulsing wildly. Nanara could barely keep her from falling off the table. “Hold her down! Here,” she shouted, placing a tongue depressor in Marla’s mouth and grabbing Nanara’s hand, “put this in her mouth like so. She could very well swallow her tongue if this keeps up for long. Paul! I need you!”

  Paul appeared almost at once, as though he’d been waiting right outside the door for her to call him. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Hold her down. Keep her as still as you can.”

  Helen flew to the medicine cabinet and withdrew a vial of sedative. She quickly filled a shot, tested it, and injected the mixture into Marla’s arm. Within a few seconds, the girl quieted, a soft, mewling sound coming from deep in her throat.

  The boy appeared in the doorway. “Doc?”

  “Yes?”

  “She was snakebit. I saw it hanging on the tree. It didn’t mean to bite her. She ran directly into it, that’s all.”

  Paul frowned at young Josh, the concern written in the hard lines by his eyes. “What kind of snake was it, Josh? Was it the brown one I showed you last summer?”

  “No sir.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “It was red, kinda like the rocks at Marble Bar, and it had black stripes.”

  Helen looked to Paul for the answer. He lowered his head, placing his elbows on the table. “Death Adder.”

  “What?” Helen whispered harshly. “Did you say Death Adder?”

  “Yeah. Not good,” he whispered back. To Josh, he continued, “How long was she in the water, mate?”

  “I jumped right in, pulled her out, and ran for help. It’s been maybe two hours since she was bit.”

  “Two bloody hours,” Paul repeated, crossing to the medicine chest. “I hope Doc has some antivenom in his little bag of tricks.”

  8

  Nanara stripped the blanket from Marla’s too-still little body while Paul read each vial until he found the one he needed. Equine—Redback spider. Equine—Brown snake.

  Equine—Death Adder.

  “Found it!” he cried, grabbing the vial and handing it Helen.

  “So did I,” Nanara announced. “Bite marks, right here on her shoulder. Bloody hell. It’s a miracle she could move at all.”

  “I’m not familiar with snakebites, I’m afriad. Is this an intravenous or muscular injection?” Helen’s voice cracked while she reached for a new needle.

  But her hands were steady when she prepared a syringe for the antivenom.

  “How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?” Paul asked, running a hand through his hair to keep it from shaking. “Is it on the vial?”

  “Of course,” Helen huffed. “Stupid mistakes cost lives, Stanwood.”

  She looked at the vial and squinted at the tiny print. Her full lips moved silently as she read the information to herself. “Intravenously. Nanara, if you would please combine the contents of this vial with one of the bottles in the cabinet behind you. It’s the clear bottle marked saline solution.”

  “Right away,” she answered.

  Helen poked a needle into Marla’s hand and attached a length of tubing so quickly she was finished before Nanara had completed the mixture. When the bottle was ready, Helen attached the tubing to the bottom of the bottle, then hooked it on a tall metal pole beside the exam table. Then she moved to Marla’s other side and examined the bite marks. “No necrosis. That’s good.”

  Helen straightened her back and took a deep breath. “That’s all we can do for now.” She glanced at Nanara and then Paul. “We’ll have to wait and see. The next twelve hours will tell.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Nanara asked, tucking the blanket back into place.

  “No. Why don’t you go get some rest? I know it’s early, but it’s going to be a long night, I’m afraid. I may need you later.”

  Nanara left, taking the child’s soiled clothing with her.

  “Do you want me to speak with her oldies?” Paul asked. “I will, if you’d like me to.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and she tucked her lips between her teeth briefly. Helen had just faced performing a medical procedure on a patient who could die if she did it improperly and she hadn’t looked as fearful as she did in that moment. Finally, she rolled her neck and rubbed the top of her shoulder, forcing herself to relax. “No, I’ll do it. I’m the doctor. It’s my job.”

  He wished she’d let him do that. Rub the kinks out of her neck when the stress of her occupation got too thick. The feel of her skin beneath his hands had haunted him, day and night, since he’d kissed her. The taste of her lips, the velvety sweetness of her mouth. Everything about her invaded his thoughts and his dreams.

  “Doc?” Buddy McIntyre stood in the doorway, his slouch hat held in a white-knuckled grip in both hands. “Can I see my little girl?”

  “Of course. I was just on my way out to speak with you and your wife.”

  “My older girls are with her and Josh. I’ll just go let them know we can come in now.” He vanished into the dark hallway.
/>   “Wonderful,” Helen mused. “The whole family.”

  “Don’t let them push you around. You’re every bit as good as they are.” Paul tried to sound comforting, but it came out more like a defense. He couldn’t help it. She made him want to protect her.

  “They don’t like me. They don’t trust me.”

  “That’s their problem, too, isn’t it?”

  When Helen smiled, he thought his heart might burst. He’d do anything to make her smile.

  “I suppose.”

  A moment later, Buddy returned with his wife, having obviously chosen to leave the rest of the family waiting in the parlor.

  Mrs. McIntyre trembled when she approached Marla’s bedside. She ran a finger over the rubber tubing, a frown deepening the lines on her weathered face. “What happened? Josh wouldn’t tell us.”

  “We’re treating her for a snakebite, Mrs. McIntyre. She was probably bitten by a … a …”

  “A Death Adder,” Paul finished for her, lifting one hand in a calming gesture. “Now, don’t panic. It sounds worse than it is, so no worries. The doc here gave her some snakebite juice, and now we’ll just watch her real close like. She’ll be right as rain in the morning.”

  Helen’s eyes grew round, but thankfully she didn’t contradict him. He knew it was a risk. Knew that Marla was still in danger. But he had faith in God, and Helen, that the child would live. He urged Helen silently to help him reassure the family.

  “Right. You see, the fact she’d been bitten when she hit her head was a good thing. It froze her lungs for just long enough that she never breathed in any water. She might have drowned, otherwise.” Helen looked at him for reassurance.

  She was almost as good a liar as he was.

  “Mrs. McIntyre? I’ll need you and your husband to wait in the parlor. I’m going to keep Marla here overnight while we administer the antivenom, and to treat any other symptoms she might have. If you would be more comfortable at home, I can send Nanara for you if anything changes.”

  “We live so far away,” Christina answered, looking to her husband for guidance.

  “I’ll stay here, and if anything happens, I can drive to your place in just few minutes, Christina,” Paul said. “Besides, nothing is going to happen, right?”

  It took him more than ten minutes to talk the entire family into holding vigil at their home instead of in the tiny parlor. Something told him that Helen would be more relaxed without worrying over whether a family who didn’t trust her would be poking their heads in every five minutes, judging her.

  Once they left, he helped move Marla to a bed in the next room. He placed a chair near the pillows for Helen, and another at the foot of the bed for himself. Then he settled in to wait.

  Helen pressed her wrist to the girl’s forehead, frowned, and found a thermometer in the stand next to the bed. She listened to Marla’s heart while she waited for her temperature to register. When she read the mercury, she frowned again. “She has a fever. I was afraid of that.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Not terribly high for a girl her age. One hundred and a half. We’ll have to keep a close eye on it. If it reaches 101, we’ll need to get some ice on her.”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone so incredibly stiff. She sat straight and tall, like she had an iron bar running through the back of her dress. She wasn’t always like this. She hadn’t been nearly so formal the day they’d met. No, this particular attitude had come after his little trick to steal a kiss. She was refusing to let her guard down around him.

  He couldn’t blame her. “You’re still angry with me, aren’t you? I know what you said last week, but I don’t believe you. I can tell.”

  She didn’t look at him. “Now is not the time or the place for this discussion.” Her fingers trembled.

  “You can’t stay angry forever, you know. You’ll have to let it go sometime.”

  “You’d be surprised how long I can hold a grudge, Paul.”

  “I have a surprise or two of my own, Doc.”

  She snapped her head in his direction, and he winked. Color rose into her cheeks, either from annoyance or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t care. Either way, it proved he got to her. That’s all that mattered.

  Paul stood and pulled his keys from his pocket.

  “Where are you going?” Helen’s panicked voice was back.

  He grinned. She was more than adorable. She was irresistible. “No worries. Just going to the icehouse by the docks to pick up a few blocks, just in case.”

  “Oh.” Helen shifted in her chair. “Don’t be long.”

  That was the first of several trips he made to the icehouse. By two in the morning, he’d woken the man in charge of the place so many times, he’d finally given Paul the key.

  Marla’s temperature soared to 105 degrees at one point, her tiny body wracked with alternating fire and shivering cold. She still hadn’t spoken, or even opened her eyes.

  Dark circles had formed under Helen’s eyes, and she refused every offer he’d made to wake Nanara. Each time he suggested it, between trips to the icehouse, she would square her shoulders and begin dousing the girl with icy towels again. It was as if she were taking Marla’s condition personally, somehow. As though she were somehow responsible.

  He prayed the girl would live, not only for her. Not only for her parents. But for Helen. He didn’t know if she could withstand losing the girl after fighting through the fever like a damnable immortal hero.

  All he knew for certain was how much he wanted her. The care she showed a girl she’d only met once in her life was testament to what kind of woman she was. A caring woman. A determined and proud woman.

  The kind of woman he’d always wanted. Tough. Sure. Strong. The perfect mother for children he hadn’t even known he’d wanted before he’d met her.

  Before tonight, he’d been attracted to her. Plain and simple lust. No, that wasn’t right. He’d experienced lust before. He was no stranger to bedding women. Helen was different. She made him think long and hard about what he wanted, not just now, but years from now.

  Until this moment, he hadn’t been able to give the feelings a name. They were drastically different from anything he’d felt before.

  Now he knew. He was falling in love with the town doc.

  Marla’s fever had finally broken at just after four in the morning. Helen continued to bathe the child’s pale face and arms with the cool towel for another two hours before she tucked the blanket tightly around her shoulders and cleared away the basin and leftover ice.

  Paul slept in the chair at the foot of the bed, his boots propped on the footboard like some Wild West cowboy in a dime novel. His arms were crossed and his chin tucked into his chest. He looked anything but comfortable, yet he’d stayed with her throughout the night. He’d run back and forth to the icehouse too many times to count, and when Helen struggled to keep her faith, she’d borrowed his.

  Where did he find so much faith? she wondered. It oozed out of him, that heady confidence that bordered on arrogance. Of course, it wasn’t arrogance if he could back it up with action, was it? He’d believed in her even when she’d doubted herself. It was foreign, and refreshing, to have someone like him urging her to succeed.

  If she closed her eyes and concentrated very, very hard, she could almost see herself spending the rest of her life with him. She had made so many wrong choices, however, it had become a frightening prospect to open herself up to more. What if he wasn’t all that he seemed? What if he changed into a monster after she’d surrendered her heart? What then? Would she find herself in the same horrendous position she’d been in just a few short months ago?

  And what about her reputation? Already, the town buzzed with stories of their kiss. The sidelong glances she’d encountered from some of her patients over the course of the past few days told her Annie had been happy to share the tale with whomever would listen. If she gave in to Paul’s desire … if she gave in to her own desire
… what would happen when he turned on her? How could she face living in a place where everyone knew her for the kind of woman she was?

  She couldn’t do that again. She’d brought enough shame to her parents and herself back home. So much shame, in fact, that she’d been forced to leave and ultimately never return. She couldn’t do that to Doc, who had completely restructured his life and his practice to provide her with a place to live and a job.

  She should be thankful for what she’d been given and keep her original goals. She would not fall for the handsome and dashing Paul Campbell. She couldn’t. It was too dangerous for all of them.

  Nanara came into the small room carrying a breakfast tray. “You haven’t slept at all, have you?” She rested the tray on the bed beside Marla’s small, immobile legs.

  “Not much. But she’s resting comfortably now, thank heaven.”

  “Has she woken at all?”

  “No,” Helen sighed. That was a concern, but hopefully Marla would wake later this morning with little memory of the night’s traumatic battle. “But her temperature is normal, finally. It’s a good sign. Would you tend her for a while this morning? I’m going to visit with her parents and bring them back to see her.”

  “Of course. Have something to eat and freshen up a little. I can take over here.” She eyed Paul, still sleeping in his chair. “He was here all night, too, I see.”

  Helen drew her gaze over Paul’s long, solid form, reclining in the chair so precariously it seemed as though he would fall over at any moment. He’d been like that for hours, making no movement, no sound. He’d fallen asleep just after Marla’s fever had broken.

  Until that moment, he’d been as worried over the little girl as she had. He was one of the most caring men she’d ever known, born with something inherent in his being that most men lacked. The ability to feel. How she knew that, or what it meant, escaped her. She just knew it mattered. She knew he would never deliberately use her or any woman. She knew he would never harm anyone if he could help it. He was the kind of man who would give a lost stranger something to eat. The kind of man who genuinely cared about his friends, who took care of them.