A Midwife Crisis (22 page)

“Aunt Caroline said I was wicked.”

He started to say that Aunt Caroline was a witch, then bit back his words along with a hint of panic. She
wasn’t
a witch. She was his fiancée and by this time tomorrow night she was going to be his wife—and Julia’s mother. Some things were going to have to be sorted out and quickly, but theirs would be a marriage not unlike many of his friends’.

They would live in polite society with polite friends and have polite dinner parties.

And he would probably go crazy, albeit politely.

“You’re not wicked,” he said, suddenly remembering his daughter’s need for validation. “You’re the best little girl any daddy could ever want.”

Julia threw her arms around his neck, Harvey and all, and hugged him fiercely before bouncing away to play with the other children. He stood, surprised by her reaction. Didn’t she know how he felt? Then again, why should she? He’d been unaware of his feelings himself until recently. Until Katie.

Panic welled up again, threatening to choke the life from him. Now was not the time to have second thoughts and hearing Katie’s voice just behind him was not helping things any, so he crossed the room to ask Rebecca about her new baby.

Katie had no idea how closely she was watching John until Caroline’s voice spoke to her from nowhere. Only it wasn’t from nowhere. It was from Caroline, and she was standing right in front of Katie. “Good evening, Katie. Are you excited about tomorrow?”

“Excited” wasn’t the word she would have picked, but then again, most of her first picks hadn’t been working out for her lately. “Of course. How about you?”

Caroline’s smile froze on her face, and her eyes flickered
to Katie’s left. Randy had returned to her side with a cookie and a smile. He gave Katie the cookie and Caroline the smile. A strange look passed between them that caused Caroline to flush and forget that Katie was in the room. If she didn’t know better, she’d bet Randy had forgotten that too, but Katie didn’t care about that as much as she was grateful for the opportunity to excuse herself from their company.

Julia was standing across the room, and she looked like she could use another cookie. The fact that she was with her father was just a coincidence.

“Julia,” Katie said, handing her the treat, “you were wonderful in the play tonight.”

“Aunt Caroline thinks I was wicked for hitting Billy,” Julia said.

Katie glanced up at John in time to see the muscle clench in his jaw, displeasure showing clearly on his face. “I’m sure that’s not what she meant,” Katie answered, but she knew to her bones it was exactly what Caroline had meant. How could John marry such a woman?

Her eyes begged an answer, but before he could give one, Julia giggled.

Katie tore her gaze from John’s long enough to ask, “What’s so funny?”

Julia pointed up to the sprig of dark green leaves with its little white berries, hanging just above their heads. “You and Daddy have to kiss now. You’re under the mistletoe.”

Katie looked up at John, waiting for him to make an excuse, but instead he stepped closer to her and slipped his hand behind her neck. The warmth of his
touch threatened to destroy all her carefully built defenses. He leaned toward her, his breath brushing the side of her cheek, his eyes closing just before his mouth covered hers.

And the memories returned.

The memories of his touch, his taste, his heat and passion, all the things she’d fought to forget came back in an instant, flooding through her with bittersweet tenderness. He pulled hesitantly back, and in his eyes she saw the longing she felt. He started to say something, but before he had the opportunity, Randy jerked him away from her and shoved him into the foyer.

“You son of a bitch,” Randy said, pointing his finger in John’s face. “I’ve had about all I’m going to take of you goin’ after my girl!”

“Randy,” Katie pleaded, pulling on his arm. “It was just a friendly kiss under the mistletoe.”

“His lips was on your lips. That ain’t no friendly kiss.” He turned toward Katie. “Get on back in the other room. I’m going to whup him.”

John stepped toward him. “Don’t talk to Katie that way.”

Randy shook his fist at him. “What are you going to do about it?”

“You don’t want to know,” John said, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Stop it! Both of you,” Katie said, but it was too late.

Randy jerked open the door. “Come on outside, unless you want me to whup you here in front of everyone.”

John followed Randy outside, removing his jacket
as he stepped off the porch into the snowy night. Katie rushed onto the porch, followed by several of the guests who’d heard the commotion.

“Please, stop it!” she shouted, but insanity had already taken over and it had an audience. There was no turning back now. John was about to take a beating and the whole town was going to watch.

The two men circled each other, watching and waiting on the first strike until finally Randy took a swing at John and surprisingly missed. John timed his duck perfectly, rising to connect his fist soundly into Randy’s jaw, sending him unceremoniously onto his rump and into the snow.

The shock of John’s blow infuriated Randy. With a guttural roar, he scrambled to his feet, tackling John, and down they went, rolling in the snow, swinging fists and cursing shamelessly.

Katie quickly glanced around to make sure none of the children were witnessing this display of male foolishness before returning her attention to the men in the yard and the rather creative names they hurled at each other.

John threw a blow that snapped Randy’s head to the side and brought a gasp from the woman standing beside Katie. Surprisingly, the woman was Caroline.

“John!”
Caroline shouted. “Stop hitting Randy, right now!”

Stop hitting Randy? Since when did Caroline refer to Randy by his first name? And why wasn’t she worrying about her own fiancé?

Katie frowned and looked over at Caroline, who
stood wringing her hands as though she was about to faint. “Shouldn’t you be telling Randy to quit hitting John?”

Caroline sneered at Katie. “Randy is the one getting hurt. Besides, John deserves it after what you two did.”

“It was just a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe.” Katie knew it wasn’t any such thing. Based on the glare Caroline threw at her, she knew it too. Katie didn’t grin. She wanted to, but luckily Caroline stormed into the house before the grinning temptation won out.

Katie returned her attention to the fools in the snow, praying they wouldn’t kill each other on the eve of their weddings.

Finally exhaustion won out and they parted, staggering to their feet to wipe mud and blood from their faces with the backs of battered hands.

“Had enough?” Randy asked, panting as he bent over to lean on his knees.

“Only if you have,” John answered with a pant of his own. He stood with his hands on his hips, a lock of his hair falling over his eye and the cut at the corner of his brow, and it was all she could do not to run to him to tend to his wounds. But that was Caroline’s job, regardless of the fact that she had disappeared.

“Huh,” Frank Davis grunted next to Katie. “The doc done all right, didn’t he?”

Katie didn’t feel it would be appropriate to respond, despite the fact that she agreed with Frank. John had done more than all right. She had the feeling Randy had been the one to end up with the whupping.

Evidently, Randy did too. He stuck out his hand toward John. “Glad we got that settled, Doc.”

John hesitated only a second before grabbing Randy’s hand for a brief shake.

“Come on, everybody,” Frank said. “Show’s over.” The guests on the porch followed Frank into the house, leaving Randy, John, and Katie outside.

Randy walked to the porch rail to get his coat just as Caroline returned.

“Randy?” she said, stepping down the steps, in her hand the sprig of mistletoe, which she lifted over his head. “I believe we owe them a kiss of our own.”

Katie’s jaw dropped. Randy pulled Caroline into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Or at least like there were no weddings tomorrow.

When they finally separated, a frazzled Caroline entered the house without bidding John good night, and an equally rattled Randy walked away without speaking to Katie.

“I don’t guess we have the right to get mad,” Katie said, rubbing her arms against the cold of the night air.

John shrugged. “Caroline was just teaching me a lesson, well deserved.”

“I guess Randy was doing the same thing.”

John climbed the steps, stopping just in front of her. She clasped her hands tightly together to keep from touching his slightly swollen cheek or brushing the hair from his face.

“He’s an idiot,” he said. “I kissed you against your will. The same could not be said of our fiancés.”

She didn’t correct him as he stepped into the house. Whether he kissed her had nothing to do with Lois’s dying wish or his determination to grant it. Based on his lack of concern over his fiancée kissing Randy, their marriage wouldn’t be based on love anyway.

It would be based on guilt.

Dearest Randy,

I ain’t been able to thank of nothing sept you ever since we met. Please meat me at Frank’s store at tin o clock this mornin. We need to talk. I’m a feared we are both bout to make a mistake.

Yours truly,

Caryline

Grandma neatly folded the note, unable to contain her grin as she handed it to Billy. Randy had no reason to believe it wasn’t real, and based on the kiss she’d witnessed through Doc’s window, he’d take the bait like a hungry trout. “Now, remember what I told you?”

Billy nodded. “We’re doing this for Katie.”

“That’s right,” she said, patting the tyke on the head. “You run on to the Koppses’ and give this to Randy, then let me know when he leaves.”

Grandma watched Billy race down the street through the early morning snowflakes before she headed for Frank’s store. Timing was everything.

“Is everything ready, Frank?” Grandma walked into his store and straight for the stove. The snow was falling in big fluffy flakes, and a few had managed to slip down the back of her coat. The fire felt good.

Frank walked from the back room, a grin plastered across his face. “It’s just like we planned. You want to see?”

Leaving the warmth of the stove, Grandma followed Frank to the back room and chuckled. Frank had been busy. A pile of blankets in the corner, a small table with a lamp, and a basket with bread and cheese should keep the couple happy for their short confinement.

The distance from the stove caused Grandma to chill. “They’re goin’ to have to snuggle to keep warm.”

“Yep.” Frank’s eyes twinkled. Who’d have thought he could be such an imp?

Now the challenge would be making it appear accidental.

“Did you fix the doorknob?” Grandma asked as she returned to her spot by the fire.

Frank grinned. “Observe.” He pulled on the knob and sure enough, it came off in his hand. Had the door been closed, he would have been unable to leave the room without help. Excellent.

“Did you give her the note?” Grandpa helped himself to another one of Mrs. Adkins’s cookies while he waited at Doc’s kitchen table.

“Yep,” Mrs. Adkins said, lowering her voice with a snicker. “I done just like you said.”

“Did she believe it? What did she say?”

Mrs. Adkins snorted. “Miss Caroline don’t talk to the likes of me, but she read the note, then blushed like a schoolgirl.”

At the sound of the front door closing, Grandpa and
Mrs. Adkins hurried down the hall to look out the window. A well-bundled Caroline tromped through the snow in the direction of Frank’s store.

Grandpa chuckled. “Things is goin’ real good, so far.” Glancing at his pocket watch, he smiled. “We got thirty minutes before we start on Doc. Time for more cookies.”

Mrs. Adkins grinned. “I done started on Doc.”

“Pa, can’t you make Lightning go a little faster?” Katie asked. “I don’t want to be late for my wedding.”

“Now, Katie girl,” Pa answered, “you know Randy ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“At the moment, neither is Lightning.”

Katie was in a miff and even though Pa normally would have hated putting her there, this morning he was proud of it. Worked darned hard at it, in fact. Katie had ironed three of his shirts before he’d found the right one for the wedding. Then he spilled something on it. He dressed slow enough to grow moss and holding Lightning back wasn’t easy. Well, maybe that part hadn’t been hard, but he could’ve encouraged the mule a little more than he had.

He’d do his part to help make Katie happy, if she didn’t kill him first.

“I hope Grandma and Grandpa have everything ready at the church.” Katie pulled her scarf closer around her head and flipped up the collar of her coat to keep the snow from falling on her neck. “Are you sure you can’t hurry this mule up?”

It took all Pa’s willpower not to chuckle. “I think he don’t like the snow. Don’t worry.” He paused to
pat Katie’s hand. “Your pa’s got everything under control.”

At the sound of the front door closing, John stepped to his bedroom window to peer out at the street. Caroline hurried through the snow, clutching her coat against her chest, her scarf barely covering her blonde curls. Odd she should run an errand when the wedding was only a few hours away. Maybe she needed to tend to something at the church.

John left his window to throw another log on the fire in his grate. He’d spent most of the morning in his room, coming to grips with his decision. He didn’t love Caroline, never would. But most of the couples he knew were not love matches. That was why his marriage to Lois had been so special. He’d loved her.

Just like he loved Katie.

Why did he insist on torturing himself with these thoughts? He hurt badly enough without continually ripping open the wounds. Katie had chosen Randy. And in less than an hour, she was going to be his wife. The lucky little bastard had better realize what a prize he had truly won.

He walked to his washstand and splashed cold water on his bruised and battered face. His cheek was slightly swollen and a cut marked the edge of his brow. He only hoped Randy looked worse.

He retrieved his wedding suit from the back of a chair and removed his dressing gown. Mrs. Adkins had repaired the hem on his trousers and ironed his shirt just that morning. At least his clothes would look better than his face.

Quickly stepping into his trousers, he unfolded his shirt, not noticing the large scorched mark on the front until he faced the mirror to fasten the buttons.

“Hell,” he grumbled, jerking off the shirt.

The expensive fabric of his hand-tailored shirt was ruined beyond repair. Mrs. Adkins must have left the iron sitting on the damned shirt while she fixed breakfast or plowed the garden. A mark like that couldn’t happen quickly.

He opened his wardrobe to find another shirt, only to see it totally empty. No shirts, no trousers, no shoes. Nothing except a pair of socks that didn’t match.

“Hell,” he repeated, deciding it was an appropriate sentiment given the circumstances. He sat on the side of the bed to pull on his unmatched socks thinking the hem on his slacks didn’t appear quite right. Standing, he looked at his reflection in the cheval mirror. One pant leg was shorter than the other by a good four inches.

“Mrs. Adkins!”
he bellowed, leaving his room to cross the hallway and lean over the stair rail.

“Yes, Dr. Keffer?” She entered the downstairs hallway and looked up at him.

“My shirt is ruined, and I can’t find another. Where are the rest of my clothes?”

She brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “I’m sorry. All your shirts are in the laundry. I thought you’d want them clean for your trip.”

“Can you get one out?”

“No. They’re all sopping wet.”

“What about my slacks?”

She wrinkled her brow. “What about them?”

He moved so she could see his pants legs. “Notice anything unusual?”

She studied for a moment, turning her head first one way, then another, before she finally answered, “No.”

“Great,” he mumbled. Evidently he needed to get Mrs. Adkins a new pair of eyeglasses before he left for New York.

“Anything else?” she asked.

If he were a glutton for punishment, he’d ask about his other trousers. “No, thank you. I’ll tend to it myself.” He returned to his room to put on his shoes. At least there was a right one and a left one, even if they weren’t from the same pair. They would go with the rest of his outfit perfectly.

Grandma darted behind the bolts of fabric in Frank’s store as soon as she saw Randy heading across the street. She couldn’t take the chance that seeing her would make him change his mind.

The jingle of the bell on Frank’s door signaled Randy’s arrival. “Mornin’, Frank.”

“Mornin’, Randy. I was lookin’ for you to get here. Miss Humboldt said you was to wait for her in the back room.”

Randy grunted, then hurried past the stove to the storeroom. Frank caught Grandma’s eyes and gave her a wink just before Caroline jingled the bell.

“Good mornin’, Miss Humboldt,” Frank said, as though this morning were no different than any other.

“Good morning,” she answered nervously. “I was wondering if…” She paused for a moment to glance around the room.

Frank grinned. “Randy said you was to meet him in the storeroom. Said you was needin’ to talk.”

She nodded, then followed Frank to the backroom, where he motioned for her to enter before saying, “I’ll close the door to give y’all some privacy.” Frank carefully closed the door so the knob wouldn’t fall off until someone attempted to open it, then returned to his counter.

“Well, Mable,” he said, grinning as he put on his coat, “I think it’s time you and me take a walk.”

John’s jacket barely covered the scorched mark on his shirt, but he seriously doubted anyone would notice. Unless he stood knee deep in a snowdrift, his legs were going to garner all the attention. His left leg looked normal enough. His black shoe peeked from beneath the hem of a trouser leg of appropriate length. A person wouldn’t even notice the brown argyle sock hidden beneath the black dress slacks. But his right leg needed to be amputated. Brown shoe and blue sock stood on display thanks to the ankle-high hem of that pant leg.

Perhaps he could ask Mrs. Adkins if she had time to fix the hem or at least help him locate his mysteriously missing shoes. He hurried down the stairs, only pausing for a quick glance at his watch at the landing. Eleven thirty. Katie had been married for thirty minutes, and in another hour it would be John’s turn.

“Mrs. Adkins?” he asked, entering the kitchen. “Have you seen my shoes?”

Mrs. Adkins jumped, then laid her paring knife on the counter beside the potatoes she’d been peeling. She wiped her brow with her wrist.

“Sorry if I startled you,” he said, “but have you seen my shoes?”

She said, “Yes,” then stood silently as though waiting for the next question.

He sighed. “Where are they?”

The expression she gave him bordered on pity. “They’re on your feet, Dr. Keffer.”

Before he could point out the obvious problem with the shoes on his feet, Mrs. Adkins asked a question of her own. “Have you seen Julia?”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her all morning.”

“Oh dear.” Mrs. Adkins began wringing her hands. “I thought she was with you. I ain’t seen her since breakfast.”

John hurried from the kitchen, a knot forming in his stomach. It wasn’t like Julia to wonder off on her own.

“Julia!” he yelled, bounding up the steps, checking each bedroom on the second floor.

A quick search in the library also came up emptyhanded.

“She’s not up here, Mrs. Adkins,” he shouted as he returned down the stairs.

“Do you suppose she went to see Katie get married?” Mrs. Adkins asked. “She was talking about her at breakfast.”

“Possibly. You stay here in case she returns, and I’ll head to the church.” Quickly, he grabbed his coat from the hall closet and darted from the house.

“Do you think I’m going to get in trouble?” Julia asked, joining Mrs. Adkins in the hallway after John left.

“No, honey,” she answered, giving her a hug. “We’ll tell your pa it wasn’t your idea. If all goes the way we planned, he’s going to be too happy to get mad.”

Where was Randy? Not that Katie was eager to be married, but getting left at the altar didn’t set well with her either. If they didn’t hurry, John and Caroline would be arriving and nothing would ruin her wedding day more than to see the man she truly loved marry someone else.

Katie sat in the back of the sanctuary, holding a spray of pine twigs and sumac berries. The pretty red bow tied around the bunch had been Grandma’s idea. Katie had been unable to get excited about any of the arrangements for the wedding. Looked like that was just as well. At this rate, there wasn’t going to be a wedding, a least not hers.

No one was in the sanctuary except Katie, Pa, and Reverend Stoker. Maybe everyone else had gotten snowed in.

Suddenly the door opened and Katie turned to see John enter. He knocked the snow from his shoulders as he walked toward her.

“Have you seen Julia?” he said, apparently not noticing she’d been jilted.

“No,” she answered, standing. “Why would you think she’d be here?”

“Mrs. Adkins said she hadn’t seen Julia since breakfast and that she’d been talking about you. I’d hoped
she was here.” His brows furrowed with worry. “I don’t know where else to look. It’s snowing so hard outside, I can’t imagine her just taking off like that.”

“You say you’re looking for Julia?” Pa asked, coming toward them from the front of the church.

“Yes,” John answered. “Have you seen her?”

“Yep, I seen her a little while ago. She said something about going to Frank’s store to see his new litter of kittens.”

Katie laid her bouquet on the pew and picked up her coat. “I’m going with you,” she said, buttoning her buttons.

“What about your wedding?”

It was all she could do not to snort. “Randy didn’t show up. I guess he didn’t want to marry me as much as he thought he did.”

“What a fool,” John said, and she wasn’t sure if he was referring to the marriage or the bride, but she didn’t have time to ponder that. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the sanctuary and into the storm.

They tromped through the snow, the wind blowing icy flakes against their faces, making discussion impossible. Good. She didn’t want to talk about being jilted anyway. Compared to the thought of Julia being out in this weather, her lack of groom seemed trivial.

Shuddering, Katie stomped the snow from her boots and followed John into Frank’s warm store. “Julia?” she yelled. “Frank?”

No one answered, but the sound of something falling came from the back room. John ran to investigate.

“Look,” he said, picking up the doorknob from the floor. “Sounds like someone is locked in here.
Julia?
”
He wiggled the doorknob back into the door, then shoved it open.

Caroline stood in the center of the room. Her perfect blonde curls in disarray, her perfect gown rumpled and fastened lopsided. A smile plastered on her perfect face. Red but perfect.