Child of Promise (9 page)

Mary Sue winced, then blushed. “Oh, of course, dear. Forgive me.” She went quiet then, all but seeming to disappear into herself.

But Beth met Harlow’s gaze with a cold one of her own. She didn’t like this man; something about him filled her with revulsion.

Noah spoke up in the awkward silence. “Beth MacKay, this is Harlow Peterson, Mary Sue’s husband and owner and president of Grand View’s bank. Harlow, this is Dr. Elizabeth MacKay, Conor MacKay’s daughter.”

The big man executed a flawless bow, then extended his hand. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, my dear. It says a lot for Grand View’s progressive outlook to have a lady doctor.”

She took his hand for a brief shake, then released it. His palm was clammy, soft, not at all like the work-hardened, masculine hands she had grown up knowing.

“Actually, Mr. Peterson,” Beth said, “the West was one of the first places willing to accept women physicians over forty years ago. If anything, Grand View’s behind the times.”

His pale blue eyes narrowed fleetingly; his mouth tight–ened. Then, with a sharp laugh, he sat back down.

“Well, perhaps you’re right, Dr. MacKay. Any way you look at it, though, I’m all for progress. Ask anyone. Ask Father Starr, for that matter.”

“You brought the bank to town,” Noah agreed amiably. “That’s progress, to be sure.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them again. Beth’s gaze met Mary Sue’s and saw that her eyes glimmered with tears. Beth’s glance lowered to Harlow’s hand, still clasped, tightly it seemed, around Mary Sue’s.

Anger swelled and Beth almost said something. Caution and good sense, however, quickly prevailed. She turned, smiling her sweetest smile at the big banker.

“Would you mind lending me your wife for a few minutes, Mr. Peterson? I’ve a few womanly things I need to discuss with her and would hate to bore you two men with them.”

Harlow laughed and released Mary Sue’s hand. “Of course. I’m certain Father Starr and I can find something to talk about while you two lovely ladies discuss your ‘womanly things.’” He glanced to Noah. “Can’t we, Father Starr?”

Noah shot Beth a quizzical look, then nodded. “Most certainly we can. Just don’t get lost in the crowd, Beth. I’m looking forward to a dance, you know.”

“I’ll be sure and find you soon.” She looked to Mary Sue. “Are you ready?”

Mary Sue all but leaped to her feet. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She looked to her husband. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

He motioned expansively. “Take all the time you need, my dear. I can handle the donations quite well alone. I am, after all, the one with the head for numbers.”

As Mary Sue cleared the table and came to stand beside Beth, Beth took her arm and marched off into the crowd. Neither woman spoke until they reached the punch table.

“Care for something to drink?” Beth asked.

Mary Sue nodded. “Yes, please.”

After ladling out two cups of mulled cider, Beth glanced around. The walls were crowded with people either talking or watching the dancers. At the end of the hall the band and tables of food held sway. The only place for a private talk seemed out of doors.

“I’d like to talk,” Beth said. “Would you mind if we went outside?”

“That’d be fine.” Cup in hand, Mary Sue headed toward the side door.

Once they were outside, the darkness and relative quiet engulfed them. Beth chose and discarded several opening gambits—no purpose was served in offending or jumping to conclusions. Still, there was something about Mary Sue and her husband’s relationship that just didn’t seem right. . . .

“I was wondering—”

“Oh, what a relief to get out into the cool air!” Mary Sue exclaimed at the same time. She set her cup on the railing, clasped her arms to her body, threw back her head, and heaved a great sigh. “It was so stifling in there, and Harlow was getting so tense. He’s having problems with some employee at the bank right now, and I know it’s been eating at him.”

She turned to Beth. “He probably seemed quite irritable tonight, and he really isn’t that way. I just wanted you to know, as I realize how lasting first impressions can be.”

“He did seem rather upset with you. And I saw the tears in your eyes, Mary Sue.”

The other woman reached over and patted her arm. “You’re so sweet to care, Beth. I may call you Beth, or do you prefer to be addressed by your title?”

Beth was tempted to tell her she preferred her title, if for no other reason than to maintain what she deemed the doctor-patient professional distance. Somehow, though, she sensed that was not the way to gain Mary Sue’s confidence.

She shook her head. “Beth’s fine. And I do care. Why, I feel like I’ve known you nearly all my life.”

Mary Sue laughed ruefully. “I suppose you have, even if I haven’t been on the best of terms with the MacKays for most of it.”

“Time’s change, and so do people. And now you’re married to someone who looks to be a very prosperous, powerful man.” Beth took a sip of her cider. “How did you meet Harlow, and when did you wed?”

“About five years ago. That’s when he arrived in Grand View, full of plans to set up its first bank.” A faraway look filled her eyes. “I was twenty-six then and deathly afraid I was doomed to spinsterhood. Harlow, however, never seemed to mind my age. He was a recent widower, you know, and had just moved here from St. Louis. Three months after we met, he asked my parents for permission to court me. Three months later, we were married.”

Mary Sue paused for a moment. “Harlow loves me in his own way. He can hardly stand to see me out of his sight. That’s why I work as his personal secretary, you know. And if any cowboy dares to cast me an inappropriate look . . . well, Harlow soon sets the young man straight.”

“And you don’t find that stifling?”

“No.” Mary Sue shook her head. “Not at all. It’s just because he loves me so much.”

“And is that what you truly believe, or is that what Harlow wishes for you to believe?”

For a long moment, Mary Sue stared at her. Then apprehension began to tauten her features. “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about. Harlow’s not—” She paused, clasped her arms about her once more, and averted her gaze. “It’s getting rather cool, don’t you think? Perhaps it’d be best if we go back inside.”

Beth realized that Mary Sue, at least tonight, wasn’t about to share anything more. “Yes, I suppose so. The men will be wondering what happened to us.”

“Everyone’s talking about you and Noah, you know. With you staying at the rectory and all, I mean.”

“It’s only temporary,” Beth said stiffly, her guard rising. “Until Mamie Oatman has an opening.”

“Maybe so.” Mary Sue shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me at any rate. I’m married, after all. But some of the single ladies are certainly gnashing their teeth over you. And after tonight, when word gets out Noah escorted you to the Fall Social . . .”

“We’re friends, and nothing more.” Beth gestured toward the door. “Shall we head on inside?”

Chuckling softly, Mary Sue picked up her cup from the railing. “Oh, I believe you, Beth. Really, I do. Still, tongues will wag and people will talk. Just be ready to take it. That’s all. Just be ready.”

Noah was surprised how well escorting Beth to the Fall Social had gone. As he walked back to the church after his monthly haircut at Sam Edgar’s barbershop the next day, he almost wanted to laugh out loud. He had spent the evening with her, danced a few dances, and apart from enjoying him–self immensely, he hadn’t felt any untoward feelings for her. Perhaps at long last his prayers had been answered.

Noah squinted in the bright sunlight. Down the street, a crowd appeared to be forming near the entrance of the town hall. The Ladies Quilting Society was meeting there today, and Noah wondered whether they were having some display of their handiwork. If so, strange that Millie hadn’t mentioned it.

Just then a man shoved his way through the throng and sprinted down the street in the direction of the clinic. Noah quickened his pace. Had perhaps someone been taken ill?

As he reached the people milling about outside, someone recognized him. “Father Starr,” a voice called. “Come on in. Hurry. It’s your aunt.”

Millie. Noah elbowed his way past the crowd and found several of Millie’s quilting compatriots fanning her. Millie sat in a chair, gasping for breath, sweat beading her brow.

“Millie, what’s the matter?” He took her hand.

She looked up at him. “Just a little sp-spell,” she gasped. “It-it’ll p-pass.”

“Let me through,” Doc Childress said just then, his deep voice rising from outside the hall. “Everyone step aside.”

As Doc cleared the crowd, Noah saw Beth accompanying him. Both wore concerned expressions, and both hurried to Millie.

“What happened?” Doc asked. Beth pulled a stethoscope and some kind of cloth apparatus from her black bag. She handed it to Doc. He waved it aside. “You do it. I’ll get the history.”

Millie looked from one physician to the other. “I was busy helping set up the luncheon we always have midway through our quilting bee, and I suddenly couldn’t catch my breath.” She managed a wan smile. “I’m already feeling better, though.”

Doc bent close. “Have you been taking your medicine?”

She shot Noah a furtive look, then glanced back at Doc. “Yes. Of course I have.”

“Then we need to reevaluate, maybe increase your dosage.”“Fine,” Millie muttered, her mouth set in an obstinate line Noah knew no amount of persuasion would ease. “Now enough of airing my private affairs in public. We can talk more about this at my next appointment.”

“No,” Doc said. “I want to see you sooner than that. Like today.”

“But I’ve got this—”

“Today, Mildred Starr.” Doc straightened. “Now, let Beth take your pulse and blood pressure.”

As Beth checked Millie’s vitals, Doc turned to Noah. “Will you see she comes to the clinic just as soon as she’s fit to walk again?”

Noah nodded, a troubling presentiment filling him. “You know I will.”

9

If the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing.

Matthew 5:13

Beth finished examining Millie. “You can get dressed,” she said as she stepped back from the table. She turned and put away her stethoscope, then walked to her desk, sat, and began to write up the results of her examination.

November first. Beth stifled a groan. It had been only two months since they had first started Millie on the digitalis, and already it wasn’t working as well. Just as Doc had feared, they’d have to increase her dosage. Problem was, they couldn’t increase it much more without risking life-threatening side effects.

“Well, Doc,” Millie said when she was fully dressed. She walked over and took the chair in front of Beth’s desk. “What’s the verdict? Am I going to make it?”

Beth laid aside her pen. “Your heart’s not responding as well to the digitalis. We need to increase the amount you’re taking.”

“Pshaw. Is that all it was? And here I thought I was on death’s door.” She gathered up her handbag from the desk and stood.

“Millie, sit back down. Please.”

Millie frowned, but did as asked. “There’s more, isn’t there? And it’s not good.”

“It might not be. I’d like you to see a doctor in the Springs. He has a lot of specialized experience in cardiac conditions. He might be able to provide us with additional options.”

Millie shook her head. “I don’t have the time to be gallivanting off to Colorado Springs. Besides, what could I tell Noah that wouldn’t get him to worrying about me?”

“One way or another, you can’t hide it from him much longer. You need to tell him, Millie. After what he saw today, he’s going to ask questions. Hard questions of the both of us. And bound as I am by my oath to keep your medical affairs private, I’m going to have to send him straight back to you.”

Millie looked down. “And what do you suggest I tell him that won’t add to his burden, his pain? Things were just starting to improve for him since you came to us and all. I just want Noah to have a little happiness again, before . . .”

She knew, Beth realized. Knew that even the miracle of medicine could only do so much, for so long, for her failing heart.

Beth rose and came around her desk. Kneeling, she took Millie’s hand. “Just tell him what you know. That your heart’s not in good shape, but that Doc and I are doing everything we can for you. Hence, why we’re sending you to that physician in the Springs, why we’re increasing your medicine. And as far as the rest, tell him what he already believes. That your life, as it has always been, is in God’s hands.”

Noah sat in the waiting room outside Beth’s office, gazing out the window. In the past half hour, the clouds forming over Pikes Peak had moved eastward. Only occasional glimpses of sky and sun peeked now through the growing cloud cover. The wind gusted in sporadic bursts, sending the dirt flying. If Noah didn’t miss his guess, a storm was on the way.

A patient, Mrs. Nealy, left Doc Childress’s office. She stopped and nodded to Noah, who stood in response.

“I’m sure Millie will be just fine, Father Starr,” the woman said. “Still, if you need anything, you know where to come.”

“I appreciate your offer, Mrs. Nealy,” Noah replied. “And I’ll definitely keep it in mind, too.”

They stood there in an awkward silence until Mrs. Nealy reached out to squeeze his hand.

“Well, I’d best be going. Got to bring in the wash, what with this weather coming in.”

“Yes, best you do.”

She released his hand, turned, and left the office. It was quiet once more, save for Helen’s occasional shuffling of papers and the rhythmic scratching of her pen.

Noah went back to his seat. How long did it take to do an examination? Was Millie sicker than he feared? She hadn’t been her usual self for months now. More tired, less cheerful. He should’ve made her see Doc or Beth a long while ago.

The door to Beth’s office clicked open, and Noah leaped to his feet.

“You can come in now, Noah,” Beth said.

He couldn’t read anything in her expression. She kept it flat—a doctor’s inscrutable mask. Well, he’d soon have the truth out of the both of them.

Noah followed Beth into her office, closing the door behind them. Millie turned to smile up at him, then averted her gaze. There was something about that forced, automatic action that didn’t set well with him.

Beth motioned to another chair against the wall. “Why don’t you pull that over and have a seat. Millie’s got a few things she’d like to tell you.”

As soon as he was in his seat, Noah turned to his aunt. “What is it, Millie? What’s wrong with you?”

Millie looked briefly to Beth, then pursed her lips and met Noah’s concerned gaze. “I’ve heart trouble. Goes back to when I had rheumatic fever as a child. And now . . . now it’s getting worse.”

“Worse?” His fear rising, Noah looked from Millie to Beth and back to Millie again. “How much worse?”

Millie glanced at Beth beseechingly. “You tell him, honey. You can explain all that highfalutin doctor stuff better than I can.”

Noah inhaled a deep breath. “Yes, please. But just someone tell me what all this means.”

“It means”—Beth leaned forward on her desk—“Millie’s heart is failing. It’s not strong enough to pump the blood around her body as well anymore, and one of the places it affects is her lungs. Hence, why she gets breathing problems when she overdoes it.”

“Doc said something at the town hall about medicine, and was she taking it. Is this heart medicine?”

Beth nodded. “Yes, it is. It’s called digitalis. It helped Millie for a while, but now it isn’t enough.”

“Then do something else.” He knew his voice was sharp, demanding, but he didn’t care. The way Beth was talking, and both she and Millie were looking . . .

“We will. Before you brought Millie to the clinic, I conferred with Doc. We’re going to increase her dose of digitalis. We’d also like for her to see a physician in the Springs who has considerable experience with cardiac problems. Maybe he can give us some more ideas.”

“And if he can’t? Give you more ideas, I mean,” Noah asked softly. “What then?”

When Beth didn’t answer right away, Millie reached over and took Noah’s hand. “Then we put it all in the good Lord’s hands, honey. We pray, and we wait. Sooner or later, He’ll give us our answers.”

Noah looked down at his aunt’s hand. It was age-spotted, and the veins stood out from the thin, sinewy flesh. But it was a beautiful hand nonetheless, work-hardened, dependable, gentle, loving. Just like Millie.
Just like Millie
 
.
 
.
 
.

She wouldn’t live forever. She was already in her early sixties, and life out here was hard on a woman. But Noah hadn’t expected to lose her so soon. Not when he still needed her so desperately.

Tears stung his eyes. He was afraid he’d shame himself by crying, so he pulled his hand from Millie’s, rose, and walked over to stare out the window.

“This is one time,” Noah said, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, “I’m not so certain I want to know what the Lord wants. If He decides it’s time to take you . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Noah, honey,” his aunt began, shoving back her chair. “It’ll be all right. One way or another, the Lord will see to that.”

He wheeled about and lifted a hand to stay her. “Don’t, Millie. I-I’m sorry, but I need some time to think about this. To be alone.”

With that, he turned and hurried from the office, leaving the two women staring after him.

It took every ounce of willpower for Beth not to get up from her desk and go after Noah. Only the knowledge that Millie was her patient, first and foremost, held her in her seat, wearing the most professional demeanor she could muster. Still, Millie must have read something in Beth’s eyes or in the way her hands fisted on her desk.

“Go to him,” Millie urged, sending her an encouraging smile. “I’m okay. It’s Noah who needs you now.”

Beth dragged her tortured gaze from the open doorway. “Are you sure? I feel like I’m deserting you in your hour of need.”

Millie shook her head. “I’ve all I need, all I’ve ever needed. The love of the Lord and the love of family and friends. Who can be richer?”

Gazing into the other woman’s eyes, Beth saw the conviction shining there. Who else, indeed, could be richer if one still truly believed in a merciful, loving God? But even if Beth knew the Bible well, thanks to Abby’s instruction and Noah’s sermons all those years of her growing up, she no longer believed. How could she, after all that had happened to her back East?

She pushed back her chair and stood. “Well, then let me first escort you home. You were my last patient for the day at any rate.” Beth came around, helped Millie up, and led her from the clinic.

The walk back to the rectory was slow, and Millie tired quickly. The increasingly windy weather didn’t help any, but in time they made it home.

Mary Sue Peterson, who had been at the quilting bee and had volunteered to watch Emily while Noah and Millie went to the clinic, was there, waiting with the two-year-old in the kitchen. Upon Millie and Beth’s arrival, she jumped up, hurried to Millie’s other side, and helped her into Beth’s room.

“Thank you . . . ever so much,” Millie said between breaths, “for watching Emily. I hope . . . hope Harlow won’t be upset. You taking off from your . . . other duties, I mean.”

“As far as Harlow knows, I’m still at the Quilting Society meeting. It’s one of the few social activities he allows me on my own, as the Peterson family’s community contribution. But helping out our priest’s aunt in a moment of need should set just as well with him, too.” Mary Sue managed a taut smile. “To keep up our outstanding image in the community, I mean.”

Beth shot Mary Sue a sharp glance. The edge of bitterness in her voice was not easily ignored, especially since she was normally quite reticent when it came to anything regarding her husband or her marriage.

“Well, I’m glad you were here to help with Emily,” Beth said as they entered her room. She let go of Millie’s arm and quickly turned back the bedcovers, plumped up the pillows, then returned to Millie’s side. “Here. Sit on the side of the bed so we can get off your shoes and jacket. Then you lie down for a nice nap.”

“Bring Emily in here so I can watch her,” Millie said. “Since you need to find Noah and all.”

Mary Sue turned to Beth. “If you need to speak with Noah, I can stay until you return. Millie can’t really rest if she has to keep an eye on Emily.”

Beth eyed her uncertainly. “Well, that would help, if you’re certain Harlow won’t mind.”

“For all the help you and Millie have been to me, I think I can risk it.”

“I’ll try not to be long.” Beth assisted Millie onto the bed, paused to slip off her shoes as Mary Sue removed her jacket, then both women helped Millie to lie down. After tucking her in, Beth lowered the shades, then followed Mary Sue from the room.

“Thank you once again for your kindness.” Beth laid a hand on Mary Sue’s arm. “I truly appreciate it.”

Mary Sue smiled. “It’s my pleasure. I feel like, after all these years, we’re finally becoming friends. And that feels very good.”

Beth squeezed her arm before releasing it. “Yes. It does.” She headed to the coatrack and donned her jacket. “I think Noah’s at the church, so if you need me before I return—”

“Get on with you.” Mary Sue made a shooing motion. “We’ll be fine.”

Beth hurried out into the late afternoon storm. Large, fat flakes were tumbling down from a roiling sky, and even as she strode along, the temperature seemed to drop. She flipped up the collar of her wool jacket, hunkered down into its warmth, and stepped up her pace.

The closer she drew to the church, however, the more her steps slowed. When Noah had first fled her office, comforting responses had formed on her lips. But now, as the time to face him drew near, all her fine phrases and clever consolations had evaporated into thin air.

She had always hated this part of medicine—addressing loss, handling grief. Nothing she ever said seemed to offer much solace.