by BJ Hoff
Because of her uncommon maturity and serene nature, he tended to forget the years between them. But perhaps she was far more aware of—and sensitive to—the difference in their ages than he had ever been. He was her employer, after all, and unless he was badly mistaken, Addie Rose had been carefully sheltered and protected by her family—especially by her father.
He almost groaned aloud at his own thickheadedness. It wouldn’t be the first time his feelings had got in the way of his common sense.
“I can tell you’re really worried about Miss Gladys and wondering how to help her. I have an idea, but you might think I’m assuming too much. After all, she scarcely knows me, and for that matter, I have no idea how my family would react to what I’m thinking.”
Daniel blinked. Confusion mixed with relief as he struggled to take in her words. Apparently, not only was his fear of losing her misplaced, but it wasn’t even relevant to what she was saying.
“My feelings are mixed, of course,” she went on, “but I’ve been wondering for some time now if I shouldn’t consider making a break from my family to live on my own.” She paused but then hurried on. “I love my parents—I couldn’t ask for a better family, truly I couldn’t—but the older I get the more difficult I’m finding it to live as the adult I am rather than as the child they still think I am. Da, especially. Honestly, in his eyes, I’m still twelve years old and need to be treated accordingly.”
She stopped, her expression clearly one of frustration. “Maybe none of this makes any sense to you. From what you’ve told me, you’ve been on your own since you were a boy—”
Shaking his head, Daniel lifted a hand. “No, I hear you. And what you’re saying makes perfect sense.”
She drew in a steadying breath. “Well, what I’m trying to say is…do you think Miss Gladys would be interested in taking me in as a boarder? Thanks to my job, I could afford to pay her a reasonable rent—and it would mean that, at least in the evenings, there would be someone in the house to help her and look after her. And, I was thinking, as close to her home as the office is, I could even check on her during the day, perhaps go home for lunch. And it would mean Da wouldn’t have to drive me in and pick me up every day, either. As it is, he has to wait nearly an hour after he gets off his shift until I’m ready to leave in the afternoon. So this would actually help him too—”
She stopped, drawing a deep breath. “If I can just make him see that. What do you think of the idea?”
Her words had spilled out in such an increasing rush that Daniel had the feeling she was trying to convince herself before talking with her dad. He had seen enough of the man to suspect that convincing him of anything other than what his mind was already set on might be a challenge, to put it lightly. And who would be more aware of that than his own daughter?
Although he couldn’t help but agree with her logic, he thought it best to remain neutral for now. “It makes sense. And Miss Gladys obviously likes you a lot. But it’s a big decision. How do you think your dad will feel about it?”
She attempted a smile that didn’t quite work. “I expect he’ll take some convincing.”
Daniel thought that was probably an understatement, but he merely nodded. “Are you going to talk with him soon?”
She hesitated. “Probably. Otherwise, I’ll lose my nerve. But not until I get my mother’s opinion. She can usually predict Da’s reaction to almost anything.”
Still trying for a noncommittal tone, Daniel said, “That’s probably a good idea.”
She nodded and then glanced behind her. “Speaking of Da, he’s probably out front by now. I’d better be going. Unless there’s something else you need me to do first?”
Daniel shook his head. “We’re finished for the day. I plan on being right behind you.”
And that had indeed been his intention. At the time.
TWENTY-THREE
AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION
If only there were more to offer her than uncertainty and doubt.
ANONYMOUS
Daniel’s surprise at finding Serena standing in the doorway when he started to leave propelled him into his old and awkward speechlessness.
In her fine rose-colored coat and feathered hat, she appeared her usual attractive and elegant self, but it wasn’t so much her imposing appearance that stole his tongue as the awareness that she had actually sought him out after so long a period of absence—and most likely an abundant measure of annoyance with him.
“Well, I was hoping to come in from the cold,” she said, glancing at the coat slung over his arm, “but you seem to be on your way out.” Her tone was dry, her slightly amused expression familiar.
“Oh…no,” Daniel managed, finally finding his voice. “I mean, I was about to leave, but I don’t need to. I was just finished for the day and decided to head home. But there’s no rush. Come in, come in!”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Come in.” He stood back, waiting for her to enter.
Once she was inside, he took her coat. “It’s good to see you.” His words spilled out in a rush, betraying his surprise and a certain amount of uneasiness.
She stood watching him. “I kept thinking you might stop by the house or the school,” she said, clearly expecting a response from him.
“I…wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”
“You mean because you stood me up.” Again, the dry, somewhat amused tone.
“I certainly didn’t intend it as any such thing, Serena. I just…I didn’t feel I had a choice.”
She breathed a long sigh. But then she smiled. “I know. You’re a good doctor, Daniel. And a truly dedicated one. I suppose… there are simply times when I wish you’d take me as seriously as you do your profession.”
He studied her. “I confess that most times I don’t quite know how to take you.”
She glanced away, and then she lifted a hand and seemed to study it. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that. I didn’t come here to argue.”
“Why did you come, Serena?” His own question surprised him, but in truth it had been niggling at him from the moment he’d seen her standing in the doorway.
She studied him. “I’m surprised you have to ask. Daniel… I was beginning to think we were serious about each other. As a couple.”
Daniel was totally taken unawares. While at one time her words might have pleased him no end, they now had the completely unexpected effect of irritating him—to the point that he didn’t know how to reply.
“Have I been mistaken all this time?”
Her tone had taken on a note of bewilderment that sounded genuine, but he was still at a loss as to how to respond. Had he been the one who was mistaken? It seemed to him that almost from the time they’d begun seeing each other, she had deliberately kept him at arm’s length, almost relegating him to the position of just another suitor—a good friend as well, perhaps, but to be treated lightly with no real commitment between them. Had he somehow misread her? Had he really been all that dense when it came to discerning her feelings?
“Daniel?” She stepped closer to him.
“No,” he said. Yet even as he choked out the word, he felt confused, conflicted. And when she lifted her face in obvious expectancy, he still hesitated, his head swimming with the turmoil of mixed emotions.
Even when he kissed her, instead of the familiar chaos of emotions and the racing of his heart that usually struck him, he felt little but uncertainty and puzzlement.
When the kiss ended, she stepped back a little, watching him. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”
Unreasonably grateful for any excuse to avoid further scrutiny, Daniel nodded. “I suppose I am, yes.” And suddenly, he was. “It’s been hectic. A really busy time.”
She continued to study him. “Who was that leaving when I pulled up? A patient?”
He frowned, but then realized she must have seen Addie Rose driving away with her father. “My new assistant.”
“You have a new
assistant? I didn’t realize.”
Feeling awkward all over again, Daniel fumbled to explain. “I hired her recently.” He swallowed hard. “I had to have someone. After Audrey quit and I took on the additional patients from Owenduffy, I simply couldn’t keep up.” He stopped. “Especially with this recent outbreak of scarlet fever.”
“You’re too generous for your own good, Daniel. You simply don’t have time to do everything you take on.” She was still watching him closely. “That looked like a miner’s wagon leaving as I came in.”
“Yes. Addie Rose’s father works in the mines. He picks her up after work in the afternoon.”
“Your assistant is from Owenduffy?”
“That’s right,” he said carefully, knowing her feelings about the mining community.
She was silent for a moment, and then, “You found someone from Owenduffy with enough education to be your assistant? I’m surprised.”
A touch of defensiveness rose up in him. “Not everyone in Owenduffy is illiterate, Serena. Addie Rose has a good education besides being extremely efficient in the sickroom. She’s as competent as any nurse. In fact, she hopes to be a nurse eventually.”
“Hmm. Ambitious. And she’s very pretty as well.”
He looked at her.
“I couldn’t help but notice.” She paused. “How old is she?”
“How old—” He shrugged. “She’s in her early twenties.”
She reached up to straighten his collar. “Should I be jealous?”
“Jealous?” Daniel hoped his voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt. He cleared his throat. “I hardly think so.”
“Good. Then I won’t be,” she said, tracing his chin with her finger.
This time she initiated the kiss. And this time his heart did race. So why, then, did the feeling make him uncomfortable and even leave him with a faint pang of guilt?
“Are you too tired to take me to supper?” she asked after a moment. “We could go to the inn. I know how you like Helen’s chicken and dumplings.”
Determined to escape the emotional uproar hammering him, Daniel quickly agreed. Perhaps spending an evening with a lovely woman—a woman who was surely much more than an infatuation, and who, for a surprising and what should be a highly welcome change, was initiating an actual date with him—would put an end to the confusion and foolishness that seemed to have possessed him of late.
“I am definitely,” he said, emphasizing his words, “not so tired that I’d pass up an invitation like that.”
TWENTY-FOUR
A DAY OF TROUBLE
The darkness thickened
Upon him creeping…
GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL (A.E.)
Daniel could have accepted one of a number of invitations for Thanksgiving dinner, including the one offered by Serena and her family, who were spending the day in Buckhannon at a combined gathering of relatives. By midweek, however, he had come to the reluctant realization that he was close to exhaustion and couldn’t quite muster the interest or the energy needed for an out-of-town trip. Instead, he’d decided to take up the Hollidays’ invitation and spend a relatively quiet day enjoying one of Esther’s delicious meals and some time with the family and the new baby.
As it happened, when the day arrived, he enjoyed neither the quiet day he had hoped for nor the rest he so badly needed. A little after eleven on Thanksgiving morning, a loud and insistent knocking—immediately followed by a prolonged growl from Sarge—sent him rushing from his desk by the bedroom window to the front door. He shot up just suddenly enough to send a blast of pain arrowing down his back.
He couldn’t have been more surprised to find a somber-faced Dominic Murphy standing there, his fist raised as if to knock again. “Sorry to bother you on a holiday, Doc,” Murphy said, “but I’m afraid you’re needed. I was sent to get you.”
Daniel hushed Sarge and motioned Murphy inside. “What’s happened?”
“There’s been a death. You’re needed to sign the certificate.”
“I thought the mine was down for the day,” Daniel said, puzzled.
“It’s not a miner. It’s a miner’s wife.”
Daniel stared at him. “A—who?”
“Cormac MacMahon’s wife. Glenna.” He paused. “Addie Rose mentioned that she’d been to your office not long ago.”
The earlier pain now had lodged itself in Daniel’s spine. “Glenna MacMahon?”
“Aye. She died sometime night before last, it seems.”
“How? What happened?”
Murphy didn’t reply right away but simply stood twisting his cap and watching Daniel. “A bad fall, according to her husband. He said she fell down the steps.”
Murphy’s words might have been echoing from the wind, for all the concentration Daniel could muster. He couldn’t seem to get past the pain in his back or his last memory of Glenna MacMahon. Her furtive look, the almost palpable fear that had emanated from her, and then her rush to get away, as if she’d made a terrible mistake in even coming to his office.
He felt he should have done something after seeing her. He should have acted on the suspicion and doubt that had lurked in a dark corner of his mind, prodding him to follow up, to do something, especially after Addie Rose told him there had been rumors about abuse.
But just what was he to do? Even Addie Rose, who knew the mining community—knew its people far better than he—had indicated there was nothing more he could have done. And yet—he could have gone to the authorities, couldn’t he? In the busyness and overwork, had he simply pushed all thought of the woman out of his mind?
“Are you all right, Doc? You’re that pale all of a sudden.”
Murphy’s voice broke through the cold weight on Daniel’s chest.
He managed to nod. “I…yes. I’m all right.”
“I can give you a ride over, if you want,” Murphy said, still studying him with a curious look. “And bring you back.”
Daniel took a deep breath and, finding his voice, replied, “No, thanks. You don’t need to do that. I’ll drive myself over.”
But then he remembered his commitment for Thanksgiving dinner with the Hollidays. “It will be awhile, though. I’ll need to make a stop first.”
Murphy nodded. “All right, then, if you’re sure. I’ll just head on back.”
“Where is she? Where do I go?”
“Oh, right,” Murphy said. “She’s laid out at home. Will be until sometime tomorrow. MacMahon’s place is just five houses up from ours. Same side of the road.” He paused. “You’ll find it easy enough. There’s a swing with a broken chain on the porch.” He touched his cap and then turned to leave.
Daniel stood in the open doorway, mindless of the bitter wind as he watched Murphy drive away. Finally, he closed the door and walked back to the bedroom, Sarge at his side.
The chair at the desk creaked as he sank into it. He propped his elbows on the desk top, cupping his head with his hands, swallowing against the dryness of his mouth. Other than the pain that still burned in his back, he felt numb. Sarge pushed his head against his side, his usual way of attempting to comfort. At the moment, however, Daniel could find no comfort in the big dog’s effort to help.
What kind of a doctor had he become? In his obsession to heal everyone who came to him, to be all things to all people, had he neglected—ignored—the oath he had taken as a young and admittedly idealistic physician when he first embarked upon the career he had dreamed of since childhood?
Even though Addie Rose had indicated there was nothing he could have done to help Glenna MacMahon other than to treat her injuries, at the very least he could have followed up on the woman, couldn’t he? He’d been more than a little disturbed at the time by her suspicious cuts and bruises. How had he managed to dismiss the questions and concern her condition had triggered without at least checking on her sometime later?
Self-disgust washed over him like a slow flood. He sat there for several minutes, making no attempt to rationalize the guilt ri
sing in him, battering him with accusation and reproach.
Finally he got up and began a sluggish walk about the house, gathering his things to leave. Sarge followed him, occasionally sniffing and pushing at him, but although mindful of his efforts, Daniel left the house alone, simply giving the dog an idle pat before telling him to stay as he locked the door.
The drive to Owenduffy seemed endless. Daniel was already wishing he’d brought Sarge along for company. Alone as he was, he had too much time to think: unpleasant thoughts about his preoccupation, his patient load, and what he considered his inexcusable neglect to follow up with Glenna MacMahon.
So absorbed in his own self-reproach was he that he felt more dazed than alarmed when the first jarring blast of the mine whistle split the air. He drew the buggy to a sudden stop, his breath coming in hard, erratic spurts as his head began to clear.
The whistle continued to shriek. The sound wasn’t foreign to him. There had been a few other incidents—minor ones, thankfully—and so he’d become familiar with the din. But before today he’d never been actively involved with any badly injured miners or frightened family members. Today, though, might prove to be entirely different.
Never before had he heard the whistle sound on a declared holiday. He knew it wasn’t normal. And he knew it couldn’t be good.
He took up his drive toward Owenduffy again, this time at a much faster speed and with a real fear churning in him. While accidents and disasters might almost seem a way of life to those outside the coal community, he’d learned enough to know that any occurrence that departed from the norm usually meant bad trouble. Surely whenever the mine whistle sounded at an off-hour, the families of Owenduffy held a collective breath, and he now found himself doing the same.
He had learned that the miners and their loved ones were strong folk, most with a solid faith and a resilience that seldom seemed to wear thin. Some might credit them with being hard, but Daniel was more inclined to think that their trials had taught them an acceptance of life as it was, combined with the ability to keep going, no matter how difficult their struggles might be.