A Veiled Reflection (5 page)

“What!”

“Kate, walk with Judith over to the doctor's and then hurry back here.”

“But wait,” Jillian muttered. “I don't think it's all that bad.”

“Now, Judith, do as you're told. You don't want to bleed to death, do you?”

Jillian was beginning to feel a little light-headed with all this talk of blood and stitches. She let Gwen bind her hand in the lower part of her apron, then stared dumbly as Kate took hold of her arm.

“We'll be havin' ya fixed up before ya can say jack-a-dandy.” Kate took it all in stride, apparently unaware that her roommate was trembling from head to foot.

Jillian hated doctors. Well, she didn't really hate them; she feared them. She had always felt a strange sense of morbidity when the doctor had come to the house to check on her grandmother. It was really her only encounter with doctors, and this, along with her father's open disregard for their services, caused Jillian to adopt an uncertain attitude toward physicians. Doctors always seemed so stern faced and unfeeling, and they always knew things they didn't let you in on until it was too late. At least that's how it had been with Grandmother Danvers. The doctor had come faithfully day after day and finally after several months announced that the elder Mrs. Danvers had a terminal cancer. He assured them it was too late to do anything but make the old woman as comfortable as possible. Jillian shuddered simply thinking of the scene.

“Kate, I honestly don't think this is necessary,” Jillian said, holding her wrapped hand tightly to her waist. “I mean, the bleeding will stop in a few minutes, and I hardly think I need to bother the doctor.”

“Dr. Mac will be gettin' a real laugh out of seein' ya again so soon,” Kate said.

Jillian knew nothing about what Kate was talking about and had no chance to question her on it as they stepped out the back door of the Harvey House and crossed the sandy dirt road to where the doctor's small wood and stone house stood.

Kate knocked loudly on the door, then grinned at Jillian. “I almost wish it were me to be seein' the doc. He's surely the handsomest man I've ever laid me eyes to. But no doubt he'd not be wantin' a poor Mick for a wife.”

“Coming!” came the muffled call from within the house.

Kate turned on her heel and headed back to the Harvey House. “He'll be havin' ya fixed up in no time at all.”

Jillian thought to call after her, not exactly sure what she wanted to say but desperate to have Kate's bolstering support. She eyed the placard at the side of the door.
Dr. Terrance MacCallister
.

She glanced back over her shoulder to Kate's departing figure. “Aren't you going to wait until he opens the door?” she finally managed.

“He's already opened the door,” a deep masculine voice stated from behind her.

Jillian turned to look up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. They were bright with amusement and well matched to the grin on the man's face. He looked nothing like any doctor she'd ever encountered.

“Miss Danvers. Can't get enough of my company, eh? Well, come inside. I see you're back from your trip back East. How did it go?”

Jillian wanted to call out again for Kate as the man took hold of her arm. Her quaking only increased as he led her into the house and closed the door.

“Why, you're shaking like a leaf. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were scared to death. But that can't be the case. After all, this is the same woman who watched me pick out pieces of lint from her burn,” he stated with a look of approval. “By the way, how's the arm doing? I hope those two weeks in Kansas City didn't ruin all my good work.”

Jillian felt her mouth go dry.
Oh, Judith. What have you gotten me
into?

“My arm is perfectly fine,” she told him. At least it was the truth. “It's my hand. Well, actually my finger. I cut it.” She held up her hand as if to prove the fact. “I don't think I need to be here bothering you with it, however.” She forced herself to remain calm.

“Well, now, I guess you must have received your license to practice medicine while you were back in Kansas City,” Dr. MacCallister said with a laugh. He stopped in midstep, turned to her, and let his gaze linger on her face for just a moment. “I don't come to the Harvey House and tell you how to do your job.”

“I might have been better off if you had,” Jillian muttered.

The doctor laughed. “Why don't you let me be the judge of whether you bothered me for nothing.”

Jillian nodded. “I'm sorry, Dr. MacCallister.”

The man frowned. “What happened to just calling me Mac? You go back East and get all civilized? I thought we had an agreement.”

Jillian wanted to protest that she'd never agreed to anything except her sister's ridiculous scheme. But instead she whispered his name. “Mac.”

He nodded. “That's better. Now come sit in my examining room, and we'll see just what you've managed to do to yourself.”

Jillian allowed him to lead her into his medical office. She took a seat on the chair he pointed to, glad that he'd not suggested she try to mount the spindly contraption that posed as an examination table.
Just stay calm, Jillian,
she told herself.
This will all be over in a few
minutes, and you can go back to your room. And do what?
she wondered. After all, what she wanted to do was pack and leave without another word. But there was no hope of doing that. Judith needed her, and Jillian knew she would remain no matter how uncomfortable things got.

Mac went to a washbasin, poured water, and washed his hands before coming back to examine her hand. Carefully—in fact, tenderly—he unwrapped her hand while Jillian tried not to think about the blood or the pain. Or the warmth of his touch.

“My, my,” he said good-naturedly. “Were you just desperate for attention or bored with Mr. Harvey's routine?”

Jillian didn't know quite how to take his teasing. “I fell with a tray of cups and saucers. Then when I went to get up, I cut my hand. It's that simple.”

“Well, not exactly,” Mac told her. “It's going to have to be stitched. Otherwise the bleeding will never stop. See here, it's already starting back up.”

Jillian refused to look, but nodded and kept her gaze fixed on Mac's face. Kate was right. It was an extremely handsome face with its broad square jaw, dark brows, and those wonderfully blue eyes.

“Are you sure this is the only way?” Jillian questioned, fearing what was to come.

Mac shook his head. “What happened to you back East? You used to have more gumption than this.”

Jillian realized she was in danger of being found out. Swallowing her fear, she squared her shoulders and replied, “It's just that there's a great deal of work to be done back at the dining room. I made quite a mess and it won't clean itself. My work—”

“Can wait,” Mac interjected and added, “at least a few minutes while I tend to that cut. Now just sit tight, and I'll get a needle.”

“A needle,” Jillian murmured. Oh, this wasn't going well at all. How would she ever be able to sit here and pretend to have what he called Judith's “gumption,” when all she wanted to do was cry? Judith might have taken up the job of stitching herself, but Jillian knew she would be more inclined to pass out in a dead faint from such an ordeal.

She watched the man move around his office with ease. He was something just over six feet tall and wore a simple dark suit of black serge. He looked like a doctor, she decided. Albeit a young doctor. The doctor who had tended Grandmother had been nearly as old as Grandmother herself. Jillian had no other memory of any other doctor, for doctors were common people as far as her mother was concerned. They were never invited to parties and certainly had never graced the Danvers' dinner table.

Mac returned with a tray of necessary equipment. Jillian spied the threaded needle and felt her heart begin to palpitate a little harder. She wished now she was more given to prayers and religiosity. If she were, she would ask God to make this all go away.

“Why, Judith, you're as white as a ghost,” Mac stated in a serious tone. “You must have lost quite a bit of blood before making it over to see me.”

Jillian just nodded. It seemed as logical an excuse as she could come up with.

He took hold of her hand and began washing the wound. Jillian bit her lip to keep from crying out, then discovered this pain was nothing compared to the actual process of Mac's stitching. Twice she nearly screamed, and throughout it all she fought waves of nausea and dizziness. She leaned her head back against the wall, grateful that Mac had positioned the chair close to the corner. She had already determined to lean toward the left where the wall might better support her should she faint.

“There, four stitches ought to hold you,” Mac said, eyeing his work appreciatively. “I thought for sure you'd be watching to make sure I did it right.”

Jillian eased her head up and looked at her right hand. It didn't seem all that much worse for the wear.

“I'll wrap it up, and in a week, maybe ten days, I'll take those stitches back out. You ought to be good as new then.” He began to wrap a bandage around the wound, admonishing her to keep it dry. “Tell your Miss Carson that you should not be given any task that will cause you to get your hand wet. Neither should you be lifting anything with this hand.”

Jillian nodded.
Just a few more minutes,
she told herself.
A few more
minutes and I can leave.

“So how was your trip home? I mean, I know that you went there for your grandmother's funeral, but since you didn't like the old woman anyway—”

Jillian gasped at this. Had Judith really told him that she didn't like Grandmother Danvers? It was true—neither one of the girls cared much for the superstitious old woman—but that Judith would have actually told this stranger how she felt was almost unimaginable.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked gently.

“No,” she managed to say, collecting her thoughts. There was apparently a great deal that her sister had shared with this man. Funny that Judith never mentioned him in letters home.

Mac smiled and went back to work. “So how did you find your parents and sister?”

“Oh, they were the same as always,” Jillian managed.

Before she knew it, he was finished and pushing the tray aside. “Now,” he said in that authoritative tone that seemed to precede any doctorly task, “I'll take a look at that arm.”

“What!” Jillian exclaimed, yanking back the left arm that he had already taken hold of.

Mac gave her arm a gentle pull. “I said, I intend to see how you're recuperating.” He was already unfastening the wrist buttons of her blouse.

“No, that isn't necessary,” Judith protested, but in her weakened state, she was hardly up to matching the determined Dr. MacCallister.

Mac pulled up the sleeve and studied her arm for a moment, while Jillian looked up at the ceiling. Now he would know the truth, and for the life of her, she wasn't sure what she could say or do that would set things right. Jillian waited for him to say something—anything. But he remained silent, his hand still firmly gripping her arm. Finally Jillian dropped her gaze back to Mac's face when the silence became too difficult to deal with.

“Do you want to explain this to me?” he said, dropping his hold on her. He leaned back against the counter and eyed her in the same fashion one might consider a wayward child.

Jillian drew a deep breath. “I'm not Judith.”

“Yes, I can see that for myself.”

“I'm her twin sister, Jillian.”

“And you're here masquerading as Judith because you were bored with life in the city?” he questioned.

She shook her head. “My sister asked me to come and pose as her.” Jillian sighed, preparing to reveal the whole scenario. There was no sense in lying. She'd been discovered and would soon be sent back to Kansas City. Unless, she thought hopefully, she could convince Mac to keep her secret.

“You want to give me the full story?”

Jillian nodded. “I suppose that would be best.”

“Yes, I think it probably would be,” Mac said, crossing his arms.

“Well, you see, Judith was in love with a young man we've known most of our lives. She planned an elopement with him but knew if she didn't come back to work for Mr. Harvey, she'd have to pay back half the wages she'd already earned. She couldn't do that because she'd already given her fiance
the money, and there was no possibility of our father giving her the money as he had never approved of her taking up employment in the first place and would certainly never approve of her choice in husbands.”

“So she convinced her twin sister to come to Pintan in her stead,” Mac stated thoughtfully. Then he totally surprised Jillian by bursting into laughter. “That Judith! What a gal!”