Juliet held the mouth of a sack open so Caroline could begin filling it with wool. “That’s what I thought. So I told him to tell Zoe that he was taking me to the dance. Or to take Zoe and not bother to ask me next time.”
Caroline smiled. “Good answer. Which did he do?”
“He took Zoe.” Juliet sniffed. “I didn’t want to go with him anyway. That reminds me, Max said I should look at that painting you did of the south pasture. Do you mind?”
“It’s in the spare room.” Caroline gathered up another huge wad of wool and shoved into Juliet’s bag. “I don’t think I got the foothills quite right.”
“That reminds me,” Juliet said, changing the subject again, “Bart says Max wants to take the train to Tucson and get a library card. Did you teach him how to read?”
“I’ve been reading to him.” It was their bedtime tradition. They’d finished Bart’s copy of Tom Sawyer, and now Max was looking for something new. “Do you want to go with us?”
“Can we go to a milliner’s while we’re there? I need a new hat for the dance, to go with the dress I’m making.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going with Chuck?”
“I’m going with James.”
Oh. “That sounds like fun. And there’s something else I want to do while we’re there. I need you and Bart to help me.”
“A secret?” Juliet clapped her hands with delight, then picked up the bag that she’d inadvertently dropped. “Is it a surprise for Max?”
“I want to take him to see a doctor.”
Juliet transformed from delighted to horrified in a moment. How did she do that? “Is he sick?”
“No, but he says the letters move when he tries to read. I’m wondering if there’s a problem with his eyes.”
“You think he might be able to learn to read?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. But I hear there’s a new doctor in Tucson who graduated from Harvard. If anyone knows, he ought to.”
Juliet looked all around as if sure that someone was spying on them right now. Then she whispered, “What do you need me to do?”
“He won’t go if he knows what we’ve got planned. But maybe we can find a milliner’s near the doctor’s office? I’ve telegraphed ahead for an appointment.”
“I’ll ask Isabel, her mother will know all the milliners in Tucson.”
“Thanks. And ask Bart not to tell Max.”
Juliet wore an impish grin. “What about not being with a man who you can’t tell the truth?”
“I’m going to tell Max the truth,” Caroline replied. “I’m just going to be a little selective about when I tell it.”
῭ ΅
“Nine hundred and thirty-eight pounds.” Caroline set down the sheet of paper she’d been using to tally up the wool they’d bagged up that day.
“I was expecting more like twelve hundred,” Max said as he lowered himself onto the sofa later that night. “We’ll make tomorrow’s mortgage payment, but we’ll be short next month.”
“Maybe we can get an extension.”
“You really think Maier would take the risk?” Max shook his head. “We can auction some of the cattle off early. I hate to do it, we’ll get half again as much if we wait. But—”
“Maybe we can get an extension.”
Max raised one eyebrow. “Does the fact that you’re repeating yourself mean you’ve got a plan?”
Caroline nodded. “But it’s not ready yet.”
Chapter Eight
Caroline handed the papers over to Mr. Maier, then clasped her hands in her lap to keep from fussing nervously with her skirts. She glanced sideways at Max, who leaned back in his chair, a skeptical expression on his face.
She’d been up half the night, double-checking her arithmetic, making sure she’d written down each figure correctly, then rewriting the entire document to in her most meticulous penmanship.
If the bank manager didn’t give them the extension, their mortgage would go into foreclosure. They’d lose the ranch.
Would Caroline’s detailed financial plan be enough to convince Maier to trust Max one more time?
“It says here that you’ve got more than three hundred head cattle to auction in June, weighing between eight hundred fifty and nine hundred fifty pounds, and that you’re expecting to get five cents per pound.”
“If we assume they’ll average nine hundred pounds each, that’s thirteen thousand five hundred dollars.” Caroline resisted the urge to hold her breath. “Plus the sheep will be ready to shear again in August, which we expect to yield roughly eight hundred pounds at twenty cents per pound. That’ll be another one hundred sixty dollars.”
“This is an unexpectedly detailed plan.” Maier gave Max a searching look.
“It’s what I’ve been telling you all along,” Max said pointedly. “There’s nothing on that piece of paper that I haven’t already said.”
“You never laid it out before so that I could see the big picture. You just kept assuring me that money was coming soon. There are rules I have to follow, rules that keep the bank solvent. One of those rules includes not lending money or giving extensions when I can’t see how the borrower is going to pay it back.”
Max shifted in his seat. Caroline could see that he wanted to argue with the bank manager. Understandable, given how many times he’d already asked for an extension and been turned down. But an argument wouldn’t convince Maier to change his mind today.
“We appreciate your patience while we got all the figures together in one place.” Caroline smiled at Mr. Maier. “You can see that we’ve got more than enough money coming in to pay off all our debt and make our mortgage payments. We just need an extension on the equipment loan until June.”
“Your husband has a history of late payments and payments in the wrong amount. I have to take that into consideration. The bank requires me to justify giving an extension to someone whose record is spotty.”
“There won’t be any more late payments, Mr. Maier. In fact, once we get a little bit further ahead, we’re hoping to pay off the equipment loan early.”
Maier sighed and stared at his steepled hands for a long moment. Then he looked from Caroline to Max. “Are you willing to swear in front of Judge Clemens that these figures are accurate?”
Max nodded.
Maier gave Caroline a meaningful look.
“Of course, Mr. Maier. I checked everything twice, then checked it again. I’ll be happy to bring in our paperwork and go through it with you, check it all against what your records say.”
“You’re a lucky man to have married this one, Kaspar.” The bank manager stood and held his hand out to Max. “You’ve got your extension, as long as she’s the one keeping track of the bills.”
Only after they were outside did Max drop his polite face. He picked Caroline up and twirled her around, right there in the street. “You did it!”
“I just wrote the numbers down. You’re the one who’s been running the ranch.”
“A job that was wearing me out until you got here.” He twirled her one more time before he set her down. “Before we meet Bart and Juliet, Duke’s holding something for us at the general store.”
She teased and cajoled the whole way there, but couldn’t get Max to tell her what he’d ordered.
When Duke returned from the back room with a small crate, he plunked it down on the floor in front of Caroline and produced a small crowbar from under the counter. “You want me to open it, or you want to do it?”
“She’ll do it,” Max said, taking the crowbar from Duke and handing it to Caroline. “It’s her birthday present.”
Caroline couldn’t help gaping at him. “But my birthday isn’t for months.”
“You’re not objecting to getting it early, are you?” He gestured for her to get on with it.
Levering the lid off the crate wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be. Inside, she found layers of cloth—and under those, half a dozen boxes. She opened the first one. P
astels. The second, a watercolor tin with dozens of colors. The third, charcoals. The fourth, a palette and a number of small, spatula-like implements she didn’t recognize. The fifth, eighteen brushes of various types and sizes. The sixth, a set of oil paints.
Blinking back tears, she exclaimed, “Oh Max, it’s the best present ever.”
He grinned. “There’s more.”
How could there be more? But when she bent down to examine the box, she discovered that what she’d thought was cloth padding was really several rolls of canvas, and beneath that, pre-shaped wood for making frames. At the very bottom, several different-sized bundles of sketching paper. She gasped when she saw the last bundle. Rice paper. Like Grandmother used.
She glanced up at Max, speechless.
He grinned at her. “No more hiding your light under a bushel.”
῭ ΅
As they got off the train in Tucson, Caroline hid a smile at Juliet’s determined exclamation that they must find her friend’s milliner immediately. Bart, being in on the secret, declared that his sister’s head would not lack for the perfect hat a second longer. Max shrugged agreeably and tucked Caroline’s hand into the crook of his arm as they set out.
But when Bart went into the milliner’s to help Juliet choose a hat, Max frowned suspiciously.
“Aren’t you better equipped to help Juliet pick out a hat?” he asked, craning his neck to peer through the store windows. “Or does that milliner also sell Stetsons?”
Caroline took a deep breath. “Bart’s staying with Juliet because you and I have an appointment.”
“What appointment?” Max stuffed his hands into his pockets as he planted his feet firmly. “Why would you make an appointment without telling me?”
Should she tell him? Not until she absolutely had to.
“I’m asking you to trust me without question, just this once.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Probably not. “Please?”
He sighed and offered her his elbow once again. But she felt his muscles tense when she guided him toward the door of Dr. Weber’s office.
Max planted his feet wide and glared at her. “I don’t need a doctor to tell me I’m too dumb to read.”
“Who did tell you that you’re too dumb to read?”
“Everyone,” he snapped. “The schoolmarm. My parents. Not that they needed to, it’s obvious. I was the only one who couldn’t learn.”
“You understand books when I read them to you. You’re not stupid, Max. I think you have a medical condition.”
“I’m perfectly healthy.”
“What if there’s something wrong with your eyes? Something that makes it harder for you to see letters and numbers?”
“I can see the letters, I just can’t…make sense of them.”
“Please, Max.”
“Why can’t you just leave it be?”
“What if there’s a cure and you’re just too stubborn to ask?”
He looked taken aback. “I’m not stubborn, I’m just sick of being let down.”
And you don’t want a doctor to confirm what people have been telling you all your life, because that will make it true. Why hadn’t she seen it before? “I understand, Max. If you don’t want to go in, I won’t make you.”
“I just…” He looked down at his feet, like he couldn’t bear to see her expression. “Is it that important to you?”
“I thought it might be that important to you. You love books.”
“I love you reading to me.”
“I won’t stop reading to you. Even if Dr. Weber completely cures you.”
“There’s no cure for stupid,” Max grumbled. But he gestured for her to enter.
Moments later, the doctor greeted them. He was surprisingly spry, considering the shock of silver hair and the deep lines on his roundish face. “How can I help you?”
Visibly bracing himself, Max grudgingly explained the difficulty he’d had in reading his entire life.
“Yes, I have heard of this. Reading blindness.” The doctor tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Only recently discovered. Kussmaul, I believe the name on the paper was.”
Caroline held her breath. Was it possible that there was help for Max?
“Reading blindness.” The flicker of hope on Max’s face before his expression went neutral told Caroline that yes, he did still want to learn to read and he probably would forgive her for scheduling the appointment without asking him first. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“It is fairly rare. Subjects of normal intelligence who have difficulty with reading—they can see the letters, but sometimes not clearly. Or the brain confuses similar looking letters. There can be a variety of symptoms. Are you able to read at all?”
Max looked down. “I have to guess a lot. And I guess wrong a lot.”
“Does it matter how big the letters are?”
“Newspaper headlines are easier than the articles.”
“Does it matter if it’s printed or handwritten?” Max admitted.
“I can’t read handwriting if it’s all fancy.”
“Fancy?” the doctor probed.
“Cursive. With a lotta swirls.”
It was all Caroline could do to keep from asking a million questions. Were there people who’d been cured of reading blindness? Did it ever go away on its own? Could people with reading blindness be taught to read with different methods? Were there glasses that could help?
But it was enough that Max was having an honest conversation with the doctor. Her questions could wait. And surely Dr. Weber would tell Max what he needed to know?
Max bit his upper lip. “You said…normal intelligence?”
“Absolutely. There’s nothing wrong with your ability to think, but there is a confusion in the brain when it comes to interpreting letters.”
Max gave Caroline a look she didn’t understand at all.
Then he asked, “Is there a treatment, Doc?”
“There is no cure as of yet,” the doctor admitted.
Caroline’s stomach plummeted. No cure. She dragged Max out here and put him through all this for nothing. She barely listened as Dr. Weber continued.
“There has been a suggestion that it is worse when the subject is anxious. Reducing that anxiety may also reduce the difficulty in reading.”
“No other treatment?” Max asked.
“I do remember a colleague telling me he’d discovered that a few of his patients found it easier to read if they covered one eye. I don’t think it worked for the majority, though.”
“Why one eye?”
Dr. Weber shrugged. “That has yet to be determined.”
Max let out a long breath. “So there’s nothing I can do about it?”
“If you don’t mind, I’m meeting a colleague next month in Chicago who specializes in the study of the brain. If he has any suggestions, would you be willing to come back?”
“If you find a treatment, I’ll be back.”
Caroline kept her eyes down so that Max wouldn’t see the disappointment on her face. She’d hoped to give him a gift today. The gift of reading. Instead, she’d merely confirmed for him that he’d probably always need someone to read to him.
Strangely, he didn’t seem disappointed. If anything, he seemed energized. Maybe he’s looking forward to saying ‘I told you so.’ I certainly deserve it.
Max thanked the doctor for his time, then held the door open for Caroline. When they were back out on the sidewalk, he thanked Caroline, too. “I never would have come if you hadn’t insisted.”
“Why are you thanking me?” she asked. “It was all for nothing.”
“Not for nothing. Everybody else in my life gave up on me when it seemed like I was too dumb to learn to read.”
“But there’s no cure—”
“I don’t need a cure. I just need someone to care about me. Someone who’ll call me on it when I’m not facing my problems down like a man should.”
He looked away f
or a moment as pain flashed over his features. “When the doctor was asking me questions, all I could think was, what if it was our children having trouble reading? They could. And I wouldn’t know how to help them.”
“Our children.” It hadn’t even occurred to her that reading blindness might be hereditary. If their children couldn’t read… “We’ll make sure they know they’re smart, just like their father.”
“They’ll probably be smarter, on account of they have you for a mother.” He leaned closer, like he was about to kiss her. “War of the Worlds.”
“What?”
“That’s what you’re reading to me next. Bart lent it to me when I gave Tom Sawyer back.”
Caroline raised herself up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. “I can hardly wait.”
Chapter Nine
Caroline patted her swelling belly as she and Juliet waited for Bart and Max to return from the brightly-painted concession booth. Once the morning sickness had passed, she’d been hungry all the time, and for the oddest things. Sauerkraut, which she used to hate. And blueberry jam on almost-burnt toast. And popcorn. The rich, buttery scent of fresh-popped corn was all she could think about.
The baby shifted, as if eager for popcorn too.
Juliet danced around Caroline, nearly busting with impatience as the fair-goers passed by on either side. “We must ride on the Ferris wheel. The newspaper said it took almost a week to assemble. And that it’s two hundred sixty four feet tall. I can’t wait to see it!”
“First, we’re going to see the art exhibit,” Max said as he approached, handing a paper bag to Caroline, then placing a protective hand on the small of her back. “I hear there was a competition.”
Juliet consulted the map on the backside of the program they’d been given on entering. “It’s in that big red-and-yellow tent!”
The girl took off without waiting to see if anyone followed. Bart shook his head and hurried after his sister, leaving Caroline and Max to travel at their own pace. Caroline offered Max a fluffy handful of popcorn, but he refused. “You enjoy.”
“I was thinking Joy if she’s a girl.” Caroline crunched a half-popped kernel between her teeth. She’d also been thinking Akiko—for a middle name.
Caroline's Promise (Valentine Mail Order Bride 5) Page 5