“Here, here,” Muriel chimed in, raising her tea cup.
“Aye, ’tis the truth for sure,” Maggie added.
Spending so much time with Nora made for a longer day, as Cassia was late to the other five households she was scheduled to call upon. By the time she finally rode her bike home, the sun had set and her back ached. A small bowl of lamb stew for dinner was all the strength she could muster to eat. And after making sure all her medical instruments were properly cleansed, she fell into bed.
Two, quick and sharp rings of the telephone brought her awake. She glanced at the clock, it was almost midnight, as she awkwardly climbed out of bed, and hurried to answer the phone before two more rings woke her parents.
Sadie O’Clarity’s out-of-breath voice sounded from the other end. “Cassia, I’m with Sean here at the Willow Creek Hospital.”
She shook her head to clear it. “Why, what’s happened?”
“We were enjoyin’ dinner with Vernon and Flora Washburn when Sean took ill. Thankfully, Flora’s grandson, Willis Remington was also a guest. He was able to take us in his automobile to Willow Creek,” Sadie explained.
Cassia’s mouth went dry. She nervously cleared her throat. “Have the doctors yet discovered what ails him?”
“Aye, Cassia, they have at that.” Sadie inhaled sharply. “Sean’s had a heart attack.”
Chapter Eight
Brodie sat in the parlor of the boarding house, sipping on a glass of wine while fellow resident, Cappy Jack, nursed a glass of whiskey in a chair opposite him. It had been a long, tiring day. In fact, it was the first night out of four this week he wasn’t spending at the hospital, now that one of his patients had passed away, and another was finally stable. He pushed a wayward lock of russet hair from his forehead and sighed. He was also weary to the bone of Dorothea’s actions as of late and was voicing his concerns to Cappy as they relaxed together with an after dinner drink.
“Seems to me,” Cappy began, “it’s time you faced the facts, Mate. This gal has decided to be with another. The writing is as plain as the nose on your face.”
He nodded. It had been three weeks since Drake Nolan arrived in town, and he had made no bones about occupying Dorothea’s time. Nor did she have any difficulties accepting his invitations. She seemed to relish and savor the times she spent in the other man’s company.
When he tried to confront her with this fact on an evening he’d happened to catch her home, she’d brushed him off or accused him of overreacting. At one point she had the gall to act appalled over his jealousy. But he stood his ground on the matter. An engaged woman doesn’t take up with another man and leave her intended to spend his time alone. Doctor Malone was also standoffish, catering to Doctor Nolan’s wishes, and bringing him on board first to accompany him on interesting cases. A position Brodie once held. Now he was pushed aside, like a pair of old shoes.
“Does it take a brick to fall on you, Mate?” Cappy continued, taking a sip of his whiskey and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you want my advice…”
He chuckled sardonically. “Looks like I’m going to hear it whether or not I want to.”
“Darn tootin’ you are,” Cappy snapped, placing the glass aside on a nearby table. “I stand by those I care for and respect. And I respect the hell out of you, Mate.”
He tipped his head politely. “I feel the same about you, Captain.”
“I’d say it’s about time you give up on this fickle female,” Cappy quipped. “Set her free.”
“It strongly appears she’s already done that to me,” he mumbled.
Cappy removed a pipe from his jacket pocket, readying it with tobacco. “Good riddance to her, I say, because the last thing you need is a woman whose head can be turned so quickly by another.” He took a puff on the pipe; the tobacco’s spicy aroma filled the room.
As the smoke encircled Cappy’s white-haired head, Brodie couldn’t help but compare the scene to the words of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” he learned as a child.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
while the smoke encircled his head like a wreath.
Cappy chuckled lightly. “I had me a couple of that sort of woman, myself. Truth be told, I wasn’t such a trustworthy soul either. But you’re a different breed than me—loyal, devoted, settled, a homebody—the sort of a man who deserves a woman who sets her sights and heart on just one fella.” He squinted one of his light blue eyes before he continued to calculate the situation. “You need the kind of gal who wants a family, a home, a long life with the man she chooses. One who shares the burden the trials of life has a knack for throwing at a person.” He took another draw on the pipe. “Yessiree, a true partner is what you need, not a spoiled brat who demands her own way.”
He sighed and nodded again. Cappy Jack was right. Dorothea wasn’t really what he wanted. “I probably should admit I was taken by her beauty more so than her attributes.”
“And the prestige her papa could give you didn’t hurt none, I suppose,” Cappy countered.
“Yes, shamefully that was a winning factor as well.”
“Then bless your lucky stars, Mate, that this Nolan fella made an entrance when he did.” The elder man puffed again on the pipe and broke into a coughing fit.
“That thing’s going to kill you.” Brodie gestured to the pipe.
Cappy shrugged and placed the pipe into an ash tray. “If not this, it’ll be something else as we’ve all gotta go somehow.” He reached for the glass to take one last swig of whiskey. “Have you thought of what you plan to do next?”
Before he could answer, Widow Danfield waddled into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt you gentlemen, but a telegram just arrived for Dr. O’Clarity.”
She handed the envelope to Brodie and made her way slowly to the parlor windows, taking her sweet time to open one wide and air out the smoke-filled room. No doubt, to find out what the telegram was all about.
He read the message in silence, his brows creasing with worry at what the news relayed.
“What is it, Mate?” Cappy sat forward in his seat.
He inhaled sharply, pausing for a moment before he spoke, allowing the words to digest before he could speak them. “Well, I’d say it’s just been decided for me as to what my next plans will be.”
Cappy frowned. “How so?”
“The telegram is from my mother.” He cleared his throat from the emotion suddenly forming to choke him.
Mrs. Danfield stepped closer, hungry for gossip. “I pray all is well.”
He stood and squared his shoulders. “It appears, about three days ago, my father suffered a heart attack.”
Mrs. Danfield gasped and covered her mouth with a hand.
Cappy shook his head sadly. “So sorry, Mate.”
He stuffed the telegram inside his vest pocket. “I need to return home immediately.”
The next day, after a trip to the locomotive station to purchase a ticket for a train bound for Arizona early the next morning, he sent his mother a return telegram. Then he went to the hospital to hand over his resignation. When he couldn’t find Doctor Malone, he made his way to the business office. He learned from a thin, peevish-looking woman that Doctor Hemsley Malone and his family, along with Doctor Drake Nolan, were spending the week at the Malone summer home in Cape Cod.
“I’d be happy to forward anything you have for him.” She peered over the round, black-rimmed glasses too large for her face and sitting half way down her long, narrow nose.
He handed over the letter of thanks and appreciation he’d written for Doctor Malone but decided to hang on to the farewell letter he’d comprised for Dorothea. Perhaps he wouldn’t send it at all. In view of the fact she took Drake Nolan on a trip to her family’s summer home, when she indeed still considered herself engaged to him, spoke volumes.
“So, it’s over then,” he whispered to himself, as he rode his bike back to the boarding house.
As he gathered his belonging
s, he couldn’t help the memories flooding his thoughts. For five years he dwelled in this attic room. They were hard years, but for the most part interesting and exciting. He enjoyed the friendships he’d made, his work, and learned a lot from his colleagues—especially Doctor Malone. He should have quit while he was ahead, concentrated on his profession and left love, romance, and Dorothea out of the picture.
But none of that mattered now. His father was ill, and his family needed him. Dread took over his thoughts, and a heavy worry enveloped his heart. Just how ill was his father? His mother hadn’t said. Many he’d seen after suffering a heart attack did quite well in resuming their lives, with only minor restrictions. Then there were some who didn’t, and others still who died. What was his father’s prognosis? And what would he face while recovering? Besides, his father wasn’t a man to be coddled nor would he sit still while others cared for him. It was true, doctors made the worst patients.
He sighed heavily. “Either way, I will be there to help him through it.”
“Have you taken to talking to yourself now?” said a voice from behind.
He turned to find Paul Rhinehart, the young lawyer and fellow tenant, peering around the half-opened door.
“I knocked, but obviously you were too preoccupied to hear.” He made his way into the room and secured the door behind him.
Brodie continued to stuff his suitcase with the few sweaters he owned. They came in handy on a cold, Boston night. “Sorry, Paul, I’ve a lot on my mind.”
“Understandable.” Paul moved aside a pile of socks stacked upon the bed, before he sat. There was a long pause before Paul spoke again. “I’m really going to miss you, my friend.”
He sighed. “I feel the same toward you, Paul.” He forced a smile. “But there’s nothing that says you can’t come to Eagle’s Landing for a visit. Hell, even to live, should you decide.”
Paul chuckled sardonically before commenting. “And if your Irish mama is anything like my Southern mama, I’d probably be well fed,” he joked, his accent thick and soft.
He chimed in on his friend’s mirth. “Not to mention being introduced to just about every eligible girl she could find.”
“Well, now, how can I refuse an offer like that?” Paul countered. Then his face grew serious. “What about Dorothea?”
He shrugged. “Dorothea, her parents, and Doctor Drake Nolan are vacationing at the family’s summer residence in Cape Cod. So, I’d say that chapter of my life is over.”
Paul frowned. “Does she know about your father and the fact you’re leaving town?”
He sighed heavily. “No, she has no idea.”
“Hmmm,” Paul responded. “It appears you’re correct in thinking things between you are over. But the lawyer in me can’t help but advise you to send the woman some sort of word, whether by mail or telegram, of your departure. Something in writing has a way of covering your ass should legal problems arise.”
He arched a brow. “What legal problems could stem from this situation?”
“Breach of promise,” Paul said. “You asked the woman to marry you, now you’re fleeing town.”
He inhaled sharply. “And she’s gone off with another man.”
Paul held up a finger. “Accompanied by her parents, for one, and didn’t you say Drake Nolan was Mrs. Malone’s step-nephew?”
His brows furrowed. “Yes, but clearly he’s after much more than being on a holiday with his family.”
“Aha! Speculation,” Paul snapped. “Nothing can be proven.”
His frown deepened. “What should I do, then? I am scheduled to leave early tomorrow morning, and Dorothea is not even in town.”
Paul scratched his chin. “Are you privileged to know the address of the Cape Cod residence?”
“I could get it easy enough.” He remembered how much Hank and Blanche loved to gossip.
Paul smiled. “Splendid…do that, then, and send Dorothea a telegram. The slip of paper you’ll receive upon sending word is proof you made an honest attempt to notify her of your departure. And…” He held up his finger again. “To be completely secure in the matter, I advise you to draw up a letter of farewell to Dorothea. When you’ve finished, give it to me. I will sign it as witness and send it by messenger to her home, making a copy for my files first, of course,” he added.
Brodie nodded, making his way to the vest hanging upon a hook, and took from the pocket an envelope. “I’ve already written such a letter to Dorothea.”
Paul stood and took the envelope. “Splendid.” He shook Brodie’s hand. “Consider your ass legally covered.”
Chapter Nine
“Brodie’s comin’ home,” Sadie announced with a great measure of relief, as she placed a cup before Cassia and her mother. “Sean didn’t want me to be botherin’ him, but after three days o’ seein’ me husband so ill, I knew ’twould be a while before he’d be back upon his feet.” She shrugged. “Nothin’ else made sense but to be contactin’ Brodie, askin’ him to come home.” Turning to retrieve the whistling tea kettle from the stove, she added, “So, he’ll be arrivin’ on tomorrow’s train.”
Cassia was also greatly relieved to hear this news. Even though Willow Creek’s hospital had been diligent and thoughtful to supply a doctor at the clinic, she was on her own with town house calls. In the last three days, she’d delivered three babies and given prenatal care to four expecting mothers.
“Don’t go to any fuss on our account now, Sadie.” Amanda looked at the floral tea cup Sadie had begun to fill. “We came by to see if there was anything we could do for you, not the other way around.”
“Hush now. What good am I if I can’t be offerin’ me dear friends a cup o’ tea?” Sadie teased.
Cassia studied Sadie’s face. Her fair, freckled, Irish complexion was slightly marred by the dark circles beneath her eyes; no doubt from a sleepless night over concern for her husband’s well-being. And her auburn hair, now paled with streaks of gray, was pulled back with a ribbon instead of neatly piled atop her head in the usual bun. Still, the lilt in her voice remained, obviously to put her company at ease. Cassia admired the woman immensely and how she kept up a brave front in the midst of fearing for her husband’s life.
Cassia’s medical profession taught her life was precious and could be snuffed out at any age. But Doctor O’Clarity, Sadie, and Cassia’s parents were in their golden years, and how much time any of them had left was something that worried her often.
Cassia watched Sadie buzz around the kitchen, making her home hospitable. Never did she hear a mean word or hurtful remark uttered from Sadie’s lips. She would feed anyone coming to her house, even if it were her last morsel of food.
“Besides…” Sadie placed a plate of chocolate chip brownies on the table. “Me lovely daughter, Shailyn, as well as continuin’ at her clerical duties in Sean’s office, is cookin’ up a storm. Saints preserve us. I sure can’t be eatin’ all o’ this food meself. And me other daughter, Betsy, has given me shelter at her home in Willow Creek while Sean’s in the hospital. That’s where I’ve been stayin’ for the last four days and will continue until Sean’s released.” She sighed heavily. “I just came home for a day or two to get the place ready for Brodie’s arrival. I want to make sure he’s got enough food in the ice chest to warm while he’s stayin’ here.”
“If there’s anything else Brodie needs, you can count on us to help,” Amanda reassured her friend.
Brodie was coming home. Betsy and her husband offered lodging for her mother while Sean is hospitalized, and Shailyn is baking and cooking. What about Tucker?
As if Sadie read Cassia’s mind, she responded, “I tried to send word to Tucker’s last known address, but since I haven’t heard anythin’ as o’ yet, he must have moved on to another location.”
Or else he remains as self-centered as always, not caring about the promises he makes or the people he hurts.
Amanda reached out and gave Sadie’s hand a reassuring pat. “I’m sure once he gets the news of his f
ather’s illness he’ll be home directly.”
“Aye, I’m sure o’ it as well.” Sadie forced a smile. “In the meantime I’ve got me a close bunch o’ folks ready to pitch in, and me other three offspring lookin’ out for me and the house while I’m in Willow Creek with Sean.”
Children taking care of their parents—Cassia saw this more and more in her line of work. Daily a son or daughter would bring a parent into the clinic, be their spokesperson, caregiver. It would be her brother, Gabriel and she who would take care of her parents when the need arose. As it was, she helped her father ready the church for services, to relieve her mother.
“Have the doctors an idea when Sean can come home?” Amanda inquired.
“Not at this time, but I’m sure I’ll know more when I return with Brodie, who’ll know which questions to ask.” Sadie smiled again, this time with full gratification. “And I thank ye, Lass, for all the help yer givin’ with the clinic and townsfolk while we wait for Brodie to take over for his papa.”
“No thanks needed, Sadie,” she said. “I’d do anything to help Doc O’Clarity. And I’m sure Brodie and I will do just fine together.”
“Aye, I know ye will.” Sadie wiped a tear from her eye with the back of a hand. “And ’tis good folk like ye, ready and willin’ to do all ye can, that make the hard times easier to get through.”
****
The morning after Brodie O’Clarity arrived in Eagle’s Landing, he was ready to take over his father’s duties. When Cassia entered the office, Brodie was packing his father’s well-worn doctor’s case and suited up for town visits. Doctor Sean O’Clarity’s medical headquarters was moderate in size and adjacent to the family’s home. The front part of the building was the waiting room, stocked with wooden chairs and a receptionist’s desk where a phone and typewriter sat. This is where Shailyn O’Clarity McCrea, Sean’s daughter, took appointment calls and completed the daily schedule. Down a long hall, a back room served as Sean’s private office. Off from that room was a supply room, and across the hall was an examining room. All rooms were painted in light colors, clean, with polished hardwood floors. Office hours were later in the afternoon, as morning hours were dedicated to home visits. Two days a week the office was closed so Sean could work at the clinic. Since Sean’s heart attack, the office had been closed every day. Shailyn took calls from her home and dropped off a schedule each morning for those house calls Cassia was qualified to make. Everyone else was directed to the clinic. Until now, that is. With Brodie home to take over for Sean, she was sure her days would resume as before.
The Last Bloom Page 7