by Ann Shorey
“I can’t believe you’d do this for me. You’re an angel straight from God.”
“No. I’m a nurse. It’s a blessing for me to be able to help you.”
Jolene clasped her hands under her chin. “I’ve been praying. You’re the answer to my prayers, and that’s the end of it.”
Rosemary patted the girl’s shoulder, then placed the jar of dried leaves on the table next to a teapot. While she measured, she explained how much to use and how long to steep the tea. “Be sure to drink it warm. A little honey won’t hurt if you like sweetness.” She set the lid on the pot. “When it’s ready, you can try a cup.”
Bodie padded out from behind the stove and laid his chin on Jolene’s lap. Her eyes widened. “He looks like the dog we have at home.” She put a tentative hand on his head, rubbing his ear with her thumb.
“Where is home?” Rosemary asked, her voice soft. She hoped she didn’t sound prying.
Jolene pressed back in her chair. Dark circles around her eyes accented her gaunt features. “Between here and Hartfield. My folks have a farm. They wanted me to stay and work the fields along with my brothers, but I had hopes for better things. I came here and found me a job helping make hats.” She dropped her gaze to the top of Bodie’s head. “I should’ve stayed home. None of this would have happened.”
Rosemary thought of the decisions she’d made that brought her to the place where she found herself today. If she hadn’t volunteered as a nurse for the Union, her parents might acknowledge her existence. She’d probably still be living in St. Louis. Instead, here she was struggling for independence in Noble Springs.
She dusted her hands together. “No sense playing what-might-have-been. Let’s see what we can do about your situation today.”
“The doctor was my last hope. Anything would be better than the fix I’m in.” She turned anxious eyes on Rosemary. “I do piecework for Miss Lytle, but when I’m too sick I don’t earn anything. The girls I live with said they want me to move out so they can find someone else.”
Rosemary poured the tea and pushed the cup toward Jolene. “Try this. If it helps as much as I think it will, you could be able to return to your sewing tomorrow. Surely the other girls will give you more time if they see you can do your job.”
“They might.” She sipped the tea, made a face, and reached for the jar of honey next to the teapot.
“Start your day with this tea, then try some dry toast.” She studied the girl’s peaked face, wishing she could do more to help.
Cassie slipped into Dr. Stewart’s office midmorning the following Monday. She hastened to Rosemary’s desk, her taffeta skirt rustling. “Mother’s at the mercantile. She sent me over for her tonic. You said you’d have it today.”
“I do.” After casting an anxious glance at the doctor’s closed door, Rosemary reached into her carryall and removed the valerian tincture. She thrust the paper-wrapped vial into Cassie’s hands. “After this, you’ll have to come to my house, either in the evening or on the weekend. Dr. Stewart doesn’t want—”
The door to his private office opened. “Miss Haddon, isn’t it? Paying another social call?” His gaze shifted to the package in her hand.
Rosemary closed her eyes, wishing Cassie would tuck the tincture out of sight.
Cassie looked confused. “You don’t want people to come to see Miss Saxon? I do apologize. I had no idea.”
He cocked his head in her direction. “Miss Saxon is free to visit with callers anytime she’s not occupied with her duties. However, keep in mind only one of us is a physician, and it’s not Miss Saxon.”
Rosemary folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve had no opportunity to let my friend know that you’re concerned about my herbal remedies.” She turned to Cassie. “The doctor is afraid I’ll poison somebody and he’ll be blamed.”
“Miss Saxon. I didn’t say that.” Dr. Stewart’s face reddened. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, words to that effect.” She turned her back on him and faced a wide-eyed Cassie. “After this, can you visit me at home?”
“Yes. Of course. Soon, I hope.” She inched toward the door. “Good day, Doctor.”
He tugged at the hem of his coat. “Good day to you.”
Elijah watched through the window as Miss Haddon hurried west along the street. What must she think of him? Squabbling with the nurse as though they were children. He should have known better than to hire the woman. It wasn’t as if her prickly nature came as a surprise.
Miss Saxon spoke from behind her desk. “I promised I’d have that tincture ready for her. I’m sorry you were upset. She won’t bother you again.”
He flopped on the sofa and gave her a hard look. “She’s not the one who’s upsetting me. You are. I’m trying to build a practice in this town and I can’t have people thinking I’m unsociable.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t sound sociable toward Miss Haddon.” Two spots of red glowed on her cheeks. Her round hazel eyes sparked.
He gripped his thighs, fighting for calm. All his life he’d been accused of being too easygoing. This woman could raise his hackles with a single sentence. “I don’t want you prescribing for my patients. Otherwise, I don’t care if half the town troops in here to call on you.”
“That’s not likely to happen,” she said. “I can count on my fingers the number of people who want to associate with me.” She sounded wistful.
The glimpse at her vulnerability touched him. He softened his voice. “I assumed you had many childhood friends here in Noble Springs.”
“No. I came here from St. Louis a year ago in March to join my brother. He passed through the area while he was in the Army and thought this would be a good place to settle.” A wry smile lifted a corner of her mouth. “Once word got around that I’d been a nurse, many of the proper women in town believed my morals had to be in question. I’m hoping to disabuse them.”
“Most nurses returned to their families after the war. Why didn’t you?”
Her lips thinned. “I had no home to return to.” Her expression told him not to ask any more questions.
He stood, gazing at her with new respect. If her home had been destroyed, small wonder she needed to survive on her own. A question pricked at the back of his mind. No major battles had been fought in St. Louis—what happened to her family?
Bodie greeted Rosemary with licks and wiggles when she arrived home that evening. She locked the front door behind her, then sank to her knees and hugged his soft fur. “I missed you too.”
Dr. Stewart’s question had pricked a scab over the wound that opened during her conversation with Jolene. A wound she hoped had healed. The war had ended, but not for her mother. Amanda Saxon’s Carolina roots influenced her every action, and when her brother was killed at Gettysburg, she’d turned on Curt and Rosemary as though their Union affiliations made them personally responsible. The never-ending echo of her parents’ door slamming behind her rang in Rosemary’s ears.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she rose to her feet. If only there were some way . . . Rosemary shook her head. She’d tried more than once, only to be rebuffed. She had Curt, and now Faith. The three of them would form their own family.
The dog nosed her hand.
“You need to go outside, Bodie. You’ve been in since noontime.”
He wagged his tail and ran to the back door. Smiling at his anticipation, she unlocked the door and followed him down the steps into her small yard. Rain clouds scudded overhead, but the sun pushed through from the horizon, propelling shadow arrows from the picket fence across the winter-stunted grass.
Rosemary strolled to the door of her greenhouse and slipped inside. An earthy fragrance rose from terra-cotta pots lined on shelves along three interior walls. In the southwestern corner, a large pot held her sprawling mint plant. Herb and flower sprouts nodded from their soil beds on two narrow tables in the center of the space. Another few weeks and she’d be able to transplant most of the starts outside.
Through the wavy glass panes spaced along the sides of the wooden structure, she saw Bodie sniffing along the gravel path that led to the front of the house. Suddenly his body stiffened. He growled. Taking one slow step after another, he stalked forward along the walkway.
Her hand at her throat, Rosemary grabbed a shovel and stepped out of the greenhouse. If the person who’d left the message on her porch thought he was going to scare her, he had a surprise coming. She raised the shovel and held it at her shoulder like a club.
Bodie disappeared around the corner.
She listened but heard no footsteps on the gravel. The dog must have frightened away whoever it was, unless he was biding his time until she appeared. Rosemary marched to the front of the house, her grip tight on the handle.
“Miss Rosemary? What are you doing?” Jolene stood inside the gate. Bodie leaned against her leg, his feathery tail waving.
Rosemary lowered her makeshift weapon, feeling foolish. “When Bodie growled, I thought—well, never mind. Please, follow me. We’ll have to go in the back way. The front door is locked.” She hoped the fading light concealed her flushed face. After replacing the shovel in the greenhouse, she led the way into the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind me coming unexpected.” Jolene’s anxious eyes sought hers. Her pale face looked thinner than it had the previous week. She swayed and caught herself on the edge of the table.
Alarmed, Rosemary slid a chair behind her. “Of course I don’t mind.” She sat, facing her visitor. “It doesn’t look like you’re feeling any better. Have you been drinking the tea?”
“Some. It doesn’t help, miss. I’m still sick most of the time. I only worked one day last week.” She leaned forward. “Do you have anything else I could try?”
“Sadly, no. I wish I did.”
Jolene wilted. “Guess that’s it, then. My roommates told me I couldn’t live there without paying. Miss Lytle gave me the name of a place in Ohio that takes girls like me.” She shook her head. “I don’t even have enough money to pay for a shared room. How will I get to Ohio?”
“I don’t know about Ohio, but for now you can stay with me. I have an extra bedroom upstairs.” The words escaped her lips before she had time to think.
“Oh, miss, I couldn’t.”
“Of course you could.” Rosemary waved her hand toward the sitting room. “It’s lonely here since my brother married. I’d appreciate the company.” She ignored the voice in her head that screamed, “What are you doing? You can barely feed yourself!”
Tears welled up under Jolene’s lashes. “I don’t know what to say.” She pushed to her feet. “I’ll go get my things.”
Rosemary placed a steadying hand on the girl’s arm. “Not tonight. You need rest. Tomorrow I’ll ask my brother to help you.” She bit her lip, wondering what Curt’s reaction would be to her decision. She had the uncomfortable feeling he wouldn’t be happy.
6
The following day, Rosemary left Dr. Stewart’s office at noon and hurried to Lindberg’s Mercantile. Faith greeted her with a hug.
“I’m so glad to see you. Mornings are lonely without you and Bodie to keep me company.”
“We still have Sundays at church and after, but I agree. It’s not the same.” Rosemary walked to the woodstove and held her hands toward the warmth.
Faith glanced out the window before joining her. “Where’s Bodie?”
“He’s staying home with . . . my guest. That’s why I came.” She swallowed. “Would you please ask Curt to stop by Dr. Stewart’s office this afternoon? I kind of promised he’d help her move her things.”
Faith settled into one of the chairs beside the stove and patted the other one for Rosemary. “I’ll ask him when he gets here after school. Now, are you going to tell me what this is about?”
“A girl came to see Dr. Stewart last week, complaining of nausea.” She smiled to herself, remembering his kindness to Jolene. “After he checked her for symptoms and found nothing amiss, he asked her if she might be with child.”
Faith raised a questioning eyebrow.
Rosemary nodded affirmation. After explaining Jolene’s circumstances, she said, “I invited her to stay with me.” She held up a hand. “Before you say anything, I know it will be difficult. But I couldn’t just stand by. What if she’s wrong about her mother and father? They might miss her and want her home.”
“And if they don’t?” Faith’s sympathetic gaze rested on her. “You of all people should know that parents can be . . . unreasonable. Yours didn’t attend our wedding when I married Curt.”
“We never should have sent the letter.” Sorrow rolled through her at the memory of Faith’s hurt and Curt’s anger when her parents ignored their invitation.
“Their lack of response wasn’t your fault.”
“I should’ve known better.” She shook her head to dispel regrets. “But this is different. I won’t know what Jolene’s family is like unless I take a chance and talk to them.” She stood, eyeing the clock on the wall behind the cash drawer. “It’s time to get back.”
Faith slid an arm around her waist. “You wouldn’t be Rosemary if you didn’t care about people. Just don’t get hurt.”
As Rosemary covered the block and a half between the mercantile and the doctor’s office, Faith’s parting words spun through her mind. Her friend worried too much. She had no intention of putting herself in a situation where she could be hurt.
When she turned onto Commerce Street, she noticed Dr. Stewart bundled in an overcoat, standing beside his buggy. A man on horseback waited next to the hitching rail.
Dr. Stewart strode toward her. “Mr. Haggerty needs us.” He nodded toward the rider.
“His wife’s time has come and she’s asking for a doctor.”
Rosemary thought of Curt and Jolene, both expecting to see her in a few hours. She wished she had some way to let them know she’d likely be gone all afternoon and possibly longer. The waiting man’s horse pawed the ground. From the looks of Mr. Haggerty, if he were standing on the street he’d be pawing the ground too. She sent him a reassuring smile.
“I’ll get my things.” She dashed into the office and retrieved her carryall, then hurried outside.
Dr. Stewart helped her into the buggy. They took off at a trot after Mr. Haggerty, following him south across the railroad tracks and out of town. She shivered as cool air penetrated her shawl.
The doctor reached behind him, lifting a folded blanket from the rear seat. “Put this over you.”
“Thank you.” Grateful for the extra layer, she settled the blanket over her shoulders and tucked her arms underneath. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to show Dr. Stewart her skills as a nurse. If only the moment had arrived on a different day. She hoped Curt wouldn’t be upset when he arrived at the office and found the “DOCTOR IS OUT” card hanging on the door.
Dr. Stewart held the reins in both hands while urging the horse at a fast clip along the country road. Bare trees on hillsides stretched finger-like branches toward the cloudy sky.
He turned his head toward her, face creased in a smile. “Haggerty insisted I bring you along. His wife’s never had a doctor at a birthing before, so she’s skittish about a man helping her. Don’t know what I’d have done if it was the middle of the night.”
“I’ll assist in every way possible.” She kept her tone respectful, but inside she wanted to whoop with joy. Maybe now he’d see her as more than someone to wash bandages and keep records. She ignored the inner voice that reminded her she’d never assisted at a birth.
Ahead of them, Mr. Haggerty rounded a bend in the road, then galloped up a rutted track toward a small frame house perched atop a rise. As they rolled past a run-down farm to follow him along the track, Rosemary recognized the property as belonging to Mr. Bingham, Cassie’s stepfather.
For a moment, she gazed over her shoulder at the two men sitting in the shade of the vine-draped porch. No wonder the place looked neglected. Mr. Bingham an
d his manservant should be out caring for the property instead of lolling about in rocking chairs.
She made a “tsk” sound with her tongue. “My friend Miss Haddon lives there.”
“A strange setting for such a well-turned-out young lady.”
“I agree.”
The farm passed out of sight behind a grove of trees. When the doctor stopped his buggy in front of the frame house, Mr. Haggerty swung off his mount and took the reins from his hands. “Just go on in. I’ll take care of your horse.”
Red gingham curtains hung over the front window in the tidy room. A kettle steamed on the stovetop. Two young girls sat side by side on a bench next to a table, shoulders touching. The older one appeared to be around four years old. Their wide blue eyes fixed on Rosemary. “Did you come to make Mama well?”
“I’ll help the doctor make her well.” She smoothed the little girl’s hair. “Why don’t you go see if your papa needs you?”
They scrambled out of the room, their faded calico dresses fluttering at the backs of their stocking-covered legs.
A groan issued from behind a curtain pulled over a doorway. “In here.” The woman’s voice sounded more like a gasp than speech.
Dr. Stewart gestured for Rosemary to precede him. When she stepped into the room, a sweating blonde woman gave her a tremulous smile and held out a hand. “Thank the Lord. I’ve been so afraid. Never had this much . . .” She closed her eyes and moaned. “Baby’s been coming for hours.”
Rosemary took her hand. “Dr. Stewart knows what to do. Don’t worry.” She hoped she sounded calmer than she felt.
He turned to Mrs. Haggerty. “I need to examine you. Miss Saxon will be right here helping me.”
Mrs. Haggerty clutched Rosemary’s hand with a bone-bending grip. “Go on, Doctor. Long’s I’ve got someone to hold on to, I’m ready.”
Rosemary cradled the squalling baby boy next to a basin of warm water and stroked his pink body clean with a square of toweling. A lighted lamp hanging from a rafter burnished the blond fuzz covering the top of his head. “You’re a handsome one,” she whispered, grateful the birth had gone well. Her fears that she wouldn’t know what to do had evaporated while she followed Dr. Stewart’s calm instructions.