by Janette Oke
"Yeah," agreed Rand with a sigh. "I reckon it does."
They walked in silence. Belinda was enjoying the warm summer evening. She didn't get out nearly as often as she'd like, and
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Marty had commented on her paleness the last time she went out to the farm.
"So ya think ya'll be needed fer some time?" Rand was asking.
"Oh, she's not nearly well enough to travel yet. Especially alone."
"Couldn't thet there butler fella come an' get her?" Rand suggested.
"Thet would be awkward. She still needs help with dressing and all."
"What about her old nurse? The one ya said had her gall bladder out?"
"We haven't heard from her for some time," explained Belinda, since one of her tasks was to assist Mrs. Stafford-Smyth with her mail.
Belinda wondered why Rand had so many questions about her patient, but before she could inquire, he had switched the topic entirely.
"Hear there's a church picnic on Saturday. Sure would like to take ya iffen yer free to go."
Belinda thought for only a moment. "I'd love to go!" she responded enthusiastically. "It's a long time since I've done anything like thet. I'll see if I can work out the schedule with Flo."
For the first time this evening, Rand gave her a full smile. She noticed again his deep dimple. She had been missing Rand's company, she realized, surprised at the discovery.
"You've already finished yer second house?" Belinda commented to keep the conversation going.
"Jest this week," said Rand.
"I didn't even get to see it," Belinda lamented.
"Ya haven't been seeing much of its builder lately, either," Rand said with a wry grin. "I was about to hit my thumb with
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my hammer or fall off a ladder or some such thing jest so thet I might git to see the town nurse."
Belinda blushed but brushed his teasing aside. "I haven't even been seem' my own ma and pa for jest ages," she confessed. "Well, we'll take care of thet on Saturday" promised Rand. And Belinda smiled. She really looked forward to the day off.
Belinda was able to arrange for Saturday off, and she left with Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's orders to "have fun as young girls were meant to do," and prepared for Rand's coming with extra care.
Such a long time since I've been on an outing, she exulted as she bathed and groomed her hair.
Lighthearted, she chose her favorite dress, a full-skirted soft blue gingham with lots of bows and flouncy frills. It kind of matches my feelings, she decided as she held it up to herself in front of her bedroom mirror.
She was ready with time to spare, so she spent the extra moments playing with Ruthie. She had missed having time with her little niece.
They were busy with a game of peekaboo when a male voice interrupted them. "Now, if that doesn't make some picture," he said.
Belinda swung quickly around. She had not heard anyone knock on the front door.
But it was in the entrance to Luke's office that the male figure stood. Belinda's eyes traveled upward over sharply pressed suit pants, white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and broad young shoulders. Then she looked at his face and a little gasp escaped her lips. "Jackson! I didn't know ya were here yet." Luke had told her that Jackson was planning to join the practice, but she didn't realize it would be this soon. She could not remember his being so tall
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SO good-looking. She flushed in embarrassment and turned her eyes back to Ruthie.
"My niece," she said, disentangling Ruthie's small fist from her bodice frills as Jackson moved into the room.
"I've already met the little charmer," said Jackson evenly. "It's her aunt who has eluded me."
"I . . . I hadn't even heard ya were . . . were back," Belinda repeated defensively.
He crossed to sit down on the sofa beside her. "Actually" he said, "I just arrived on Thursday, and I spent a few days with my mother. Then Luke said I should pop in and take inventory of his office supplies to see if I have any ideas on what we might add."
"Luke will be so glad to have ya here," said Belinda. "He's been worked near off his feet."
"I heard that it's his nurse who puts in long hours."
Jackson seemed to be studying Belinda's face, and she found herself flushing again.
"Not . . . not really" she stammered. "I'm taking the whole day off today."
"You are?" said Jackson. "Splendid! The inventory can wait until another day. Mother said there's a picnic out at the church. I'd love to go and see how many of our old friends are still around."
"That's a great idea," put in Belinda. "Folks would all love to see ya."
"Then let's go," he prompted and stood, offering a hand to help Belinda to her feet.
"Well . . I . . I . . I can't," she stammered, not accepting the hand.
"You can't go? But I thought you said--"
"I . . . I did. I mean . . . I . . . I am going but I . . . I already--"
A knock on the door saved her from explaining further.
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Belinda lifted small Ruthie into her arms and went to answer it. She felt quite sure that she knew who was there, but she wasn't sure he had come at the best of times.
When Belinda opened the door, Rand stepped inside without comment. But he whistled softly as he stood studying her in the blue gingham dress. Belinda couldn't help but note when she dressed that it emphasized her wide blue eyes, fair skin, and cheeks just touched with pink.
"My feelings exactly," said another voice, and Rand lifted his eyes from Belinda to the tall, well-dressed young stranger.
Belinda's cheeks turned even pinker as she looked from one to the other. "Rand," she said, "this . . . this is Dr. Jackson Brown. Jackson, please meet Rand O'Connel."
For a moment Rand stood in silence, seeming to measure the man before him. Then he stepped forward, offered his hand, and said, "Welcome to town, Doctor. You might not know it, but seems I've been waitin' on ya fer a long, long time."
Jackson obviously did not understand the implication of the words, but he took the offered hand and shook it firmly.
"If you'll excuse me," said Belinda, "I'll give Ruthie back to her mama and grab my shawl."
It was then Jackson must have realized what was happening. His eyes clouded for a moment and then he straightened his shoulders. He must have been deeply disappointed, but neither was he a man to give up easily.
"And if you'll excuse me," he said to Rand, "I have some inventory to care for. Nice meeting you, Mr. O'Connel," and he turned back to the office.
"And nice to meet you, Doctor," put in Rand just before Jackson closed the door.
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The picnic outing did not go as well as Belinda had hoped. It was obvious to her that the relationships in her family had not healed. She had prayed that over the months things would return to normal. She could see at a glance that they had not. For the first time in her life, she thought that her mother looked old. There was a weariness about Marty that surprised Belinda. Her mama shouldn't have changed that much in only a few months' time.
Then Belinda saw young Abe, and she could see further deterioration in his arm. Abe hardly used his left hand at all, and Belinda knew that Luke's worst fears were being realized.
As she gazed around at the laughing, chattering picnickers, she realized that most of the girls her age were already married or being courted. That left very few of her old friends with whom to sit and chat. And just seeing her old classmates made her miss Amy Jo and Melissa even more.
The quiet ride home probably was not what Rand had planned it would be. But he must have sensed that Belinda was troubled about something.
"Ya seem bothered," he finally broke the silence.
Belinda responded with a sigh.
"I'm sorry to be such sour company," she responded. "It's nothing, really. Least not any one thing. Just a lot of little things all pressin' in together."
"Care to talk about 'em?" asked Rand. "All these 'little things'?"
Belinda smiled in appreciation. "Thanks," she said, "but I think not. Not right now, anyway. I haven't sorted through 'em myself yet."
Rand nodded in understanding and drove on without further comment.
They were almost home when he startled her with a question. "This here new doctor--Dr. Brown? Ya knew 'im before?"
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"We . . . we went to school together:' she answered. "His ma was my teacher. She still teaches at our school. Been there for several years now"
Rand's eyes narrowed. "An' he'll be workin' with ya now?" "He's to be Luke's associate," she answered simply.
"How do you feel about thet?" asked Rand.
Belinda frowned slightly. She really wasn't sure, but she answered as truthfully as she could. "Luke has been countin' on it fer some time. He will have more time with his family now. Thet's what he's wanted fer such a long time."
"An' you?" asked Rand.
"I . . . I guess maybe I'll have more time, too," Belinda stammered.
Rand smiled, his expression saying That's what I have wanted . . . for a long time, too.
He drove for a moment in silence.
"This here doctor . . . he's not married?"
"No-o," answered Belinda.
"Got 'im a girl?"
"I . I wouldn't know. We haven't been in touch fer. . . . fer some time."
Belinda took a quick glance at Rand, and his face seemed rather stiff. She felt very uncomfortable, and she was relieved to see the doctor's residence just ahead.
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FIFTEEN
Confusion
"And how are ya feelin' this mornin'?" Belinda asked Mrs. Stafford-Smyth upon entering her room.
"Oh, it's good to see you!" exclaimed the elderly lady with feeling. "I've missed you all weekend."
"Problems?" questioned Belinda with a frown. She did hope nothing had gone wrong while she had been away.
The woman shook her head and waved a pale hand feebly in the air. "No, nothing . . . nothing specific," she admitted. "Flo does her best and so does that deah Mrs. What's-her-name, but it just isn't the same as when you are heah. They never seem to know. . ."
She went on and Belinda let her talk, much relieved to know that there really was nothing seriously wrong with the woman.
Belinda busied herself checking her patient's temperature and pulse as Mrs. Stafford-Smyth poured out her woes. Without comment about the complaints, Belinda fluffed up the pillows, politely asking, "Would ya like to sit up in a chair fer a few minutes?"
"Oh my, yes," responded the woman. "I am so sick, sick, sick of this bed." Then she hurried on. "You see, that's exactly what I mean. Those . . . those other two. They nevah think of things like that. They just do the 'necessaries. It's as though they don't want to bothah . . . just want to get the day ovah with."
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"I'm sure they don't feel thet way," Belinda assured the elderly lady. "It's jest thet they haven't had much experience in bedside nursing care. Mrs. Mills has nursed neighbors fer years, but most of her time has been helpin' mothers an' newborn babies. Flo is just being trained in nursin'. Luke wants to have a second nurse available so thet one doctor an' one of the nurses might get some time off now and then. He is even talkin' of trainin' a third girl to help jest so she'll have some knowledge if he ever needs to call on someone. Mrs. Mills is gettin' older an' won't want to nurse much longer."
"Well, I think it's a splendid idea to train others. Believe me, I do," insisted Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. "But you must admit that some folks are fah more adept at sensing needs than othah people are. You are one of those few, Belinda. You seem to feel for the patient--to understand the hardness of the bed and the misery of lying day aftah day on one's back."
She hurried on. "I know you need time off. No one can work day and night. But I do hate the days or nights when you are not heah. Things just always go so much--"
"And how is our patient this morning?" a man's voice asked along with a rap on the door for their attention.
Belinda recognized Jackson's voice before she turned around to invite the tall young man to enter. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's face showed her surprise, and her eyes were filled with questions.
"Mrs. Stafford-Smyth," said Belinda without really looking directly at Jackson, "this is Dr. Brown, Dr. Luke's new associate. Dr. Brown, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth of Boston."
Jackson crossed to the bedside and took one of the lady's weak hands in his, smiling at her warmly. And though the patient was not aware of it, Belinda watched his trained eyes already picking up much information about her physical condition.
"And how are you feeling this morning?" he asked her sincerely.
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She didn't answer his question. Instead, Belinda could tell she was studying him, her eyes--as sharp in their own way as his-- assessing everything about him.
She must have been impressed by the nicely dressed, professional young man, because she finally answered him, respect in her tone. "You caught me by surprise," she responded slowly. "I was expecting my favorite Doctah Luke to be in to see me. Now I see a good-looking young man who appeahs to me to know what he is doing. How can such a small town have the honah of two such notable doctahs while the city of Boston suffahs with old has-beens and young, smug upstarts?"
Jackson laughed heartily, patting her hand as he did so.
"Doctah Brown, you say?" Mrs. Stafford-Smyth said, turning toward Belinda. "Where did you evah find him, my deah?"
Belinda could feel her cheeks flushing. She could also feel Jackson's eyes upon her. She did wish that Mrs. Stafford-Smyth were not quite so forthright.
"Dr. Brown grew up in our community," she explained, hoping her voice was even and controlled. "His mother is the schoolteacher in our country school. Dr. Luke has been in touch with him all through his trainin', hopin' to entice him back to our little town."
The elderly lady's eyes again rested on Jackson. "I still say it is unfai-ah," she protested good-naturedly.
Jackson became serious and all-doctor then, examining the patient, asking questions, and jotting items of note on the small pad he carried.
Mrs. Stafford-Smyth cooperated. Belinda had the impression that she rather liked doctors fussing over her.
"We have some new medication I would like to try," Jackson told the woman. "It has been used with good success in the hospital where I took my training. I will explain to Nurse Davis the dosage and how it is to be administered."
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Mrs. Stafford-Smyth nodded in agreement.
"Now I do believe," went on Jackson, "that when I arrived, I heard some talk about sitting up for a short time. I think that's a splendid idea. Could I help you to settle Mrs. Stafford-Smyth before I go, Nurse Davis?"
Belinda nodded and went to prepare the lady's chair by the window. Then, with Jackson's help, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was carefully positioned on the chair, the draperies pulled back, and the window slightly raised so she might enjoy the freshness of the summer day.
Belinda thanked Jackson and was about to turn back to her patient when Jackson surprised her with a request.
"May I see you for a moment please, Nurse?" he asked.
Belinda felt a twinge of concern. Had he noticed something about her patient she had failed to see? And then she remembered the new medication--he had said that he would explain to her the proper use and dosage.
"I'll be right back," she assured Mrs. Stafford-Smyth, "and I will be jest outside yer door. If you should need me, I'll--"
"Nonsense," said the lady. "I'm fine. I haven't breathed such wonderful ai-ah for weeks."
Belinda smiled and followed Jackson to the hallway.
"She's really doing remarkably well," he commented after the door had closed gently behind them. "I am convinced that she has had first-rate care."
"Luke has--" began Belinda, but Jackson interrupted her.
"I know that Luke has handled her treatment well--but I was talking specifically about nursing care."
B
elinda could only flush at his compliment. "Thank you," she stammered, her eyes dropping.
Jackson stood for a moment looking down at her.
"I was hoping you'd have dinner with me this evening."
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Belinda looked up quickly. The invitation had caught her completely by surprise.
"I . . . I thought you were goin' to explain the medication . . . to tell--"
"I didn't bring it with me," hastened Jackson. "I have a supply at the office. I'll bring it this evening and explain it all to you then."
His eyes seemed to be pleading, and she wasn't sure just why. Was it necessary to meet over dinner to discuss the medication? Would a doctor ask his nurse to discuss cases over a meal? But she had worked only for Luke, and they were occupants of the same house. They could discuss cases anytime. Maybe it wasn't unusual. How was she to know? She found her head nodding in agreement. Instinctively she knew that working with Jackson was going to be different than working with her brother Luke.
"Very well," she responded, licking her lips to moisten them. "When are you off?" he asked next.
"Mrs. Mills comes at seven."
"Fine. I'll see you then."
"But . . . but. . ." argued Belinda. "I . . . I should freshen up some before . . . before dinner."
"Of course," he smiled. "I was thoughtless. How much time do you need?"
"It's going to make supper--er, dinner--very late," Belinda reasoned. "Ya'll be starved by then."
"Tell you what," he bargained. "Why don't we both catch a little something to eat around four, and then we'll be able to wait until eight with no problem."
Belinda felt she had been invited into some kind of conspiracy--actually, it was rather exciting. She nodded, a smile playing about her lips.
"I'll leave orders downstairs to send something up to the room for you and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth," he went on, and when Belinda