“Your wife and daughter are very sick.” He shot the words at Tom. “I need you to sober up and help me.”
“Aw, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that lazy woman.” He sneered then his eyes widened. “It ain’t catchin’, is it?”
“Yes, it’s catching, and you’ve already been exposed. So maybe you’d better help me get them well. Otherwise you won’t have anyone to take care of you when you come down sick.” He knew the words were cruel, but he didn’t really care at the moment. How could a man drink and sleep when his family was ill?
Tom stumbled out of bed and staggered outside. He was back in a few minutes. Not bothering to even glance at Nancy or Frannie, he went to the stove in the corner and set a tin coffeepot in the center to heat.
By cajoling and threatening, Trent managed to get the man sobered up.
Apologizing profusely for getting drunk, neglecting his family, and numerous other sins Trent would have just as soon not heard, Tom turned out to be fairly helpful.
Several hours later, Trent rode away satisfied they’d be all right. That was, if Tom stayed sober enough to take care of them. Maybe he’d better not count on that. He turned and rode back the mile and a half to the Bensons’ place. After being assured that they’d go every few hours and check on Nancy and Frannie, he turned and continued his rounds.
He discovered one more case of influenza that day, and when he went to his office the next day, he found there were several cases in town.
His part-time nurse, Wanda, stayed by his side as he visited patient after patient and left medicine and instructions. Two days later, just after sunset he packed up his medical bag, mounted Warrior, and headed home. His head throbbed, and he could barely swallow from the fiery pain that clutched at his throat. He was ready to drop off his horse by the time he rode up to the stable.
Solomon appeared at his side and grabbed him around the waist. “Steady there, now. Let me help you to the house. You’re about to pass out.”
Trent managed to mumble his thanks as he staggered into the house supported by his friend. The next thing he knew he was being carried up the stairs in Solomon’s strong arms. The last thing he remembered was Carrie’s soothing voice as she placed a cool, wet cloth on his head.
“Don’t you worry none, Trent. You gonna be just fine. Me and Solomon, we gonna take good care of you.”
He closed his eyes and drifted away on a warm blanket of peace.
fifteen
What could have kept him from keeping his promise to the children? He’d seemed almost as excited as they had. As their disappointment rose, Abigail’s irritation turned to anger. He could have at least sent word if he was too busy to come.
She’d about decided to prepare the mix and go ahead with the party without him, but the thought of keeping nine children safe and out of trouble alone didn’t appeal to her, and the other staff members were too busy to help. She assured the children that Dr. Trent would more than likely do it another time and that if he didn’t, she would, but they continued to mope.
A few at a time, they went outside, and before long their laughter drifted across the lawn and through the back door. She smiled in relief. She only hoped Trent had a good excuse for his abandonment.
She took a book onto the front porch and sat in one of the wicker rockers. The rain of the past few days had stopped, and a cool breeze blew across her face.
Around noon she looked up from her book as the sound of hooves came up the lane. In the next moment, Solomon reined his horse up in front of the porch.
“Miss Abigail, I got a message for you.” He made no attempt to dismount.
At the worried look on his face, Abigail jumped up, concern stabbing at her heart. “Solomon, what is it?”
“Dr. Trent done got sick, ma’am. He so weak he can’t sit up, and me and Carrie been tending to him for a day and a half.”
He paused a moment to take a breath. From the horse’s heaving sides, Abigail knew Solomon must have ridden him hard.
“But a little while ago, he woke up, clearheaded for a change. He told me to ride over here and let you know why he didn’t come for the ice-cream party. Then he passed out again. Just like that.” He yanked the horse around. “Gotta get back.”
“Solomon, wait, what’s wrong with him?” Her words fell on empty air as he galloped off down the lane.
She rushed into the house and shouted for Virgie. Running into the parlor, she found it empty. When she reentered the foyer, Virgie was coming from the dining room.
“Were you looking for me, Miss Abigail?” Her soft voice calmed Abigail’s pounding heart.
“Virgie, Dr. Trent is ill. Solomon was here and gone so fast I didn’t have time to find out what’s wrong with him. Do you think Albert would take me over there?”
Virgie’s eyes bored into her. “What you want to go there for? If Dr. Trent sick, Solomon and my Carrie take good care of him.”
Flustered, Abigail bit her lip. “I just want to make sure it’s nothing serious.”
“If it anything serious, Solomon would have told me to come.” Virgie sounded very sure.
“Well, I don’t care. I’m going to see for myself.” Abigail came close to stomping her foot then caught herself. But her hands curled into tight fists. Her fingernails cut into her palms.
Virgie’s lips tilted. “You think I don’t know you be loving that sweet boy? Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Abigail opened her mouth to protest then blinked her eyes against tears that had suddenly pooled there. “Oh Virgie,” she whispered. “I don’t know if what I feel for him is love or not. But I know I care for him, and I don’t know why.”
Virgie opened her arms and gathered Abigail into their soothing comfort. “It’s okay, baby girl. You don’t have to know why. I know you is confused.” She patted Abigail’s back then gently pushed her away. “You go on and get ready. I’ll tell Albert to hitch up the carriage and wait for you out front.”
“Thank you, Virgie!” Abigail ran up the stairs and changed into her best dress. Next she donned her little green hat with the feathers. If he woke while she was there, she wanted to look nice for him.
She sat on the edge of the seat as they drove down the unfamiliar roads. “Can’t we go faster, Albert?”
“Yes’m, we can cut across the property like Dr. Trent does on his horse, but then this here buggy would most likely turn over and spill us out. Then how’d your pretty dress and fancy hat be looking?”
Abigail started to laugh at his droll sense of humor then stopped and cast a disapproving frown his way. “Well, I don’t think it’s very nice of you to make jokes when Dr. Trent could be lying on his deathbed.”
He cut her a glance from the corner of his eyes. “Still ain’t sweet on him, I see.”
She glared in silence.
“Aw, Miss Abigail. I’m just trying to take your mind off your troubles a little bit.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t you weary yourself none. Solomon and Carrie ain’t gonna let nothing happen to Dr. Trent. They love him like he was their own brother.”
“They do?” Abigail forced herself to calm down. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yes’m. They growed up together they did. Use to run all over the countryside together like three wild pups.” He grinned. “Oh, the pranks they used to play. But no one could stay mad at them three for long.”
“I see.” Another interesting side of Trent that Abigail wouldn’t have imagined. But oh, how she wished she could have been around to know that mischievous young boy.
They pulled up in front of a beautiful three-story white house with a columned porch. Almost a replica of the school, except on a smaller scale.
Carrie, in a clean blue dress with a white, starched apron greeted Abigail and escorted her up the stairs, her voice calm and soothing as she spoke of Trent’s condition.
“He come home in a thunderstorm two days ago, so sick he could barely sit on his horse. He’d been working night and day for two or three days. He burn
ing up with fever and half out of his head. Told Solomon he had influenza then passed right out. We took care of him best we knew how till he woke back up. Then we managed to find out what medicine to give him. He ain’t done much but sleep since. I got a little soup down him now and then. But this morning he sit straight up and ask me what day it is. Then he tell Solomon to ride like the wind and let you and the children know why he can’t come.” She sighed. “Conked right out again and been sleeping ever since.”
Abigail sat on the chair next to the bed and gazed at Trent’s drawn face. A glass and spoon sat on the table next to him. And a wash basin was on the floor with a cloth inside.
“Sorry ’bout the wash pan. I just finished giving Trent, I mean Dr. Trent, a cool sponge bath when you came.” She bent over and picked up the basin. Turning, she smiled at Abigail. “He probably gonna be mad at me for letting you see him like this.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” Abigail had cared for sick children before, but never a full-grown man. His pallor beneath the black two-day beard alarmed her.
“Sure he will. He always been strong. Little fever and sickness won’t kill him. Just make him feel like he dying.”
She stepped out of the room and closed the door softly behind her.
Abigail looked at the shock of black hair that fell across Trent’s face. Unable to resist, she reached out trembling fingertips and smoothed it back.
He moaned and turned slightly. She jerked her hand back, heat rising to her face. Goodness, what was she doing?
His eyes opened and gazed at her. Something like awe flickered there for a moment, and then his lashes fluttered down and a soft sigh escaped his lips.
Abigail smiled. He was going to be all right.
❧
Trent opened his eyes, blinking to clear his blurred vision. One small lamp burned on the corner table. Otherwise, the room was dark. He glanced around, and his heart lurched when he saw a shadowy form in the rocking chair across the room. Abigail? The figure moved and Carrie stirred in her sleep. Disappointment flooded him. It must have been a dream. Well, of course it was a dream. Why would Abigail have been sitting at his bedside while he slept? Still— He smiled. There was no denying it had been a beautiful dream. He sighed.
Carrie stirred and sat up, yawning. Glancing his way, her eyes widened and she stood and came over to his bedside. “You really awake or still out of your head?”
Trent laughed, a weak sound to his own ears.
Carrie grinned. “I knew you’d decide to wake up in the middle of the night when I was trying to get a few winks of sleep.”
“How long?”
“Two days and three nights. You were a sick man, Trent.” She poured a fresh glass of water from the pitcher.
He tried to sit up, but weakness caused him to flop back down.
“Here let me help you. You gonna be weak for a few days.” She slid her arm behind his shoulders and helped him to scoot up then arranged the pillows behind him.
“Two days? I promised the children an ice-cream party on Saturday.”
“That’s all right. Solomon rode over and told Miss Abigail why you couldn’t make it.” She gave him a keen glance. “You had some company yesterday.”
“Who?”
She grinned. “Miss Abigail James, all dressed to a T and wearing a hat that looked like a big old bird on it.”
“She was really here? I thought I dreamed it.”
“She here all right. Made Albert drive her over, fussing at him all the way to go faster.” She chuckled. “Albert say she sweet on you.”
He cut her a glance. “Albert doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Uh-huh. I told him you sweet on her, too.”
He started to sit up then plopped back down. Maybe he’d better lie there awhile longer.
“So you really think she likes me?”
“I didn’t say it. Albert did.” She flicked a thread off her skirt and started humming.
“But what do you think?”
“Ain’t my place to think nothing. I’m just your cook and housekeeper.”
Trent snorted. He closed his eyes and moaned. “I don’t feel so well. I’m going back to sleep.”
When he awoke the sun was streaming in his window. It must be at least midmorning. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, yawning. The door opened and Solomon came in.
“Trent. You sure you oughta be doing that?”
“What? Yawning?”
Solomon chuckled. “I reckon you must be feeling better.”
“Much better. And starving.” He stood and walked slowly to the washstand.
Solomon slid a chair over beside him. “Just in case you need it. I’ll go tell Carrie to fix you some breakfast.”
“A lot. Tell her to please fix a lot. And Solomon, would you bring Warrior around? I need to go to the school.”
Solomon gave him a frown. “Carrie gonna have a fit if you ride out of here today.”
“I have a lot to do. I promised those kids a party and didn’t show up. I need to let them know we’ll still have it. Besides, Carter is leaving today, and I need to be there to see him off.” He poured water into the basin. “I’ll be all right.”
An hour later he mounted Warrior and rode away, an exhilarating sense of freedom washing over him after several days of being incapacitated.
He arrived at the school just in time to see Albert loading Carter’s luggage into the carriage. He’d sent several boxes and a trunk on ahead the week before.
Carter came through the door followed by Virgie, who was holding Hunter’s tiny hand. Carter bowed deeply. “Well Master Hunter, I’m sure you will be a good boy and make your grandmother and parents proud. It has been an honor to be your friend.”
Hunter offered his free hand. “Good-bye, Mr. Carter.”
Abigail stepped out onto the porch. “Oh Mr. Carter, I was afraid you’d leave before my class was over. Lily Ann and I wanted to tell you good-bye also.”
Carter shook both their hands then turned and seeing Trent, nodded. “Once again, I do apologize for leaving before you have found a replacement, Dr. Quincy.”
Trent shook the man’s hand. “I have received a promising query and hope to hear back from Mr. Wellington this week. So perhaps it won’t be such an inconvenience after all.”
“I hope it works out. And now I’ll say good-bye.”
Carter got into the carriage, and Albert clucked to the horses and drove away down the lane.
“I’m happy to see you well again, Dr. Trent.” A very attractive blush tinged Abigail’s face.
“Thank you. It’s nice to be out in the fresh air again.” Should he mention her visit? Probably not. He had a hunch that was the cause of the blush on her cheeks.
“Dr. Trent, I’m sorry you were sick.” Lily Ann tilted her head. “You know we didn’t have the ice-cream party yet.”
“Yes, well, if no one has other plans, I thought we’d have our party after school today.” He chucked her under the chin. “How does that sound?”
“Oh yes. Will that be fine, Miss Abigail?”
“I’m sure it will be, Lily Ann.” The smile she turned on Trent about bowled him over.
“I hope Miss Abigail will come along, too, as we’d planned before.”
“Sure she will. She was disappointed, too.”
Abigail blushed again. “Of course I’ll be happy to help out, Dr. Trent.” She took Lily Ann’s hand. “And now we need to go. We have lessons to do.”
“Don’t forget, Dr. Trent,” Lily Ann called back over her shoulder.
“I won’t. I’ve already asked Miss Carrie to mix up some good ice-cream fixings for us. And I think she and Mr. Solomon are coming along, too.”
Abigail looked back and smiled, her eyes glowing. “Then we’ll see you later, Dr. Trent.”
Trent watched them round the house. Maybe Albert was right. He hoped so. And one thing was for certain. Carrie had him pegged all right. He was def
initely sweet on Abigail James.
sixteen
Trent handed his ticket over to the conductor to punch then leaned back, relieved to be on the last stretch of his trip from St. Louis and nearing home. The layovers in stations had been the most tiring aspect of the trip. A few had been comfortable but most had been a nightmare. The train was scheduled to arrive in Atlanta at 5:00 p.m. Just in time to check in to a hotel, take a hot bath, have something sent in to eat, and get a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow he’d pick Warrior up from the livery and head home.
He wondered if the new director had arrived yet. After several telegram messages back and forth, Trent had received a packet of references in the mail. Wellington’s résumé sounded good, and after verifying the references, he’d hired the man sight unseen on a trial basis.
Once that was accomplished, he’d sent word to the school staff he’d be away on business for a week, and he’d left for St. Louis. The Missouri School for the Blind had been an experience Trent would never forget.
When he’d first arrived in St. Louis, he’d spoken with a skilled eye surgeon who had agreed to examine Lily Ann, but he’d cautioned Trent not to get the child’s hopes up. From her medical records, it seemed unlikely there would be anything anyone could do to restore her vision.
The news had pushed Trent to the brink of despair. But the next day, he’d met Piper Allen. A seventeen-year-old boy, born deaf and blind, who had managed somehow to excel in both sign language and Braille. The boy was cheerful and happy, and the staff at the school had high hopes for his future.
Meeting Piper had caused hope to arise once more in Trent’s heart. If Piper could have a full and happy life with his double handicap, then Lily Ann could, too.
Trent’s dread and fear since her accident had been that her life would be empty and filled with dreariness and grief. He knew now that didn’t have to happen. Lily Ann was a strong child and a happy one. She’d more than proven her willingness and ability to learn even with limited resources.
He’d sent the box of books and supplies on ahead. He could hardly wait to see Abigail’s face when she saw the teacher’s manuals and equipment for teaching and learning Braille. Of course, he’d also learned some things by observing and doing. He’d need to teach her these himself. He grinned. That might take awhile.
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