Shannon's Daughter (6 page)

“Who
knows?
 
All I can feel is my ankle.”
 
Sighing, she closed her eyes again.
 
“Kendall, promise you won’t leave me.
 
And don’t let him do anything awful to me,
please?
 
I’m scared to death of doctors.”

“Don’t
you worry, I’m right here.
 
But why are
you scared of doctors?”
 
He wondered if
it might be best to distract her.
 
All
color had drained from her face now, even her lips were gray.
 
In the back of his mind he thought shock was a
possibility.

“I just
am.”
 
Her voice faded, and he felt her
fingers relax around his.

“Peg,
don’t faint!
 
Stay with me!”
 
He turned to Hannah, his heart pounding.
 
“Smelling salts?
 
Now!”
 

For a
woman of considerable girth, she made astonishing speed across the garden, returning
with a vial of salts and a wet towel.
 
“Peg, sweetheart, can you hear me?”
 
Afraid to lift her head, he held the vial beneath her nose, the rising
fumes making his eyes water.
 
“Peg, come
on, don’t do this!”

With a
cough, she tossed her head to one side.
 
“Okay!”
 

He
heaved a sigh of cautious relief.
 
“How
much more terrified do you want to see me?”
 

“Why
are you terrified?
 
I’m the one on the
ground.”
 
Her lids drooped, but a smile
twitched at her lips.

“I’m
imagining what your father’s going to do to me when he sees what I let happen.”

“Don’t
worry.
 
I’ll take all the blame.
 
Just don’t leave me alone, okay?”

The
doctor’s car was in the drive.
 
Oddly,
instead of finding comfort in that fact, his pulse quickened.
 
“Not a chance.
 
Trust me?”

“Yeah,
sure.”

What
followed might have hurt him as much as it did Peg.
 
The doctor, a kind-faced man in tweeds, knelt
next to Peg and began a systematic examination with barely a word of
greeting.
 
With every prod, Kendall
cringed and screwed his face in sympathy.
 
After a thorough assessment, the doctor ordered Hannah to prepare a place
in the house where he might treat his patient.
 
“Young man, can you carry this young lady into the house without
help?
 
I’ll brace her foot, but we’ll
have to go very slowly.”

“Of
course.
 
Peg, can you put your arms around my
neck?”
 
He carefully slid his hands
beneath her shoulders and knees.
 
“Peg?”
 
But she was out again, a result of the
doctor’s gentle twisting of the ankle.
 
When he reached for the vial of salts, the doctor shook his head.

“Don’t.
 
Let’s get her into the house first.
 
No need to cause her any more pain than
necessary.”
 
He smiled sympathetically.
 
“She’ll be fine.
 
Here we go now.
 
Easy, slow.
 
Good.”
 
He continued to coach each step as they crossed the garden.

Hannah
had spread clean sheets on the divan in the front parlor.
 
The doctor eyed the surroundings once Peg was
lowered onto the cushions.
 
“Good
enough.
 
Let’s have another look
now.”
 
When Kendall failed to move,
continuing to hover over her, he laid a hand on his shoulder.
 
“Son, you’re going to have to let me do my
job.
 
I’ll take good care of your sister,
I promise.”

“She’s
not my sister.
 
We’re.
. .sort of cousins.
 
And I promised I’d
stay with her.
 
Can’t we bring her around
now?
 
She’s
so.
. . still.”
 

The
doctor studied him for a moment, as though he were seeing more than he’d
expected.
 
“Fine.
 
But you’ll have to turn your back.
 
It’s hardly proper for a ‘sort of cousin’ to
witness my examination of a young lady.
 
Hand me the salts.
 
And if you
tell anyone I let you stay in here for this, I’ll be forced to call you a
liar.”

By the
time the examination was completed, Peg was reclining on pillows against the
arm of the divan, sipping a glass of cider and looking slightly more
normal.
 
Other than the wariness in her
eyes, she appeared to be coping pretty well.
 
Kendall, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to stop shaking.
 
While the doctor was delicately examining her
ankle, she eyed him suspiciously.
 
“I
didn’t scare you that badly, did
I
?
 
Maybe you need to sit down.”

“No
thanks.
 
I’ll be fine.
 
How are you doing?”

Before
she could answer, the doctor produced a vial and a syringe, prompting the blood
to once again drain from her face.
 
Kendall took the glass from her hand when it began to visibly
tremble.
 

“I’m
going to give you an injection now, my dear.
 
This will relax you and make setting that ankle much less painful.”

“No!
 
I can stand the pain.”

“Now,
see here.
 
There’s no need to look like
that.
 
Just a little jab, and then you’ll
feel much better, I promise.”

Peg,
her eyes wide and imploring, turned to Kendall, her grip crushing his fingers.
 
“Do I have to?
 
I’m an awful baby about needles.”

Kneeling
beside the divan, he pulled her head to his shoulder, pressing her face into
his shirt.
 
“Don’t look.
 
It’ll be done before you even know.
 
I don’t like them either, but if this helps,
we can stand it, right?”

“Fine,
then why don’t
you
take it?”
 
She was rigid in his arms, bracing for the
jab.
 

“There
we go.
 
All done.
 
Now just rest a bit while I get the plaster
mixed.
 
You’ll start to feel sleepy in a
few minutes.”

When
the doctor had gone, she leaned back on the pillow with a sigh.
 
“I don’t want to go to sleep.
 
Talk to me, please.”

“About
what?”
 
He shifted his position, trying to find a
comfortable spot on the thin carpet.
 

She
thought for a minute, staring grimly at her ankle.
 
“The family history.
 
I warned you there’d be a quiz, remember.”

“Ah.”
 
He tried to
focus,
doubtful he’d be able to remember much in his current state, but willing to
indulge her whim.
 
“How far back should I
begin?”

“Oh,
just the recent history will do.
 
Start
with Grandfather Shannon.”
 
The injection
was taking effect.
 
Peg settled deeper
against the pillow, her lids drooping.
 
When she spoke again, her voice was slightly thick.
 
“I think that’s a very romantic story, don't
you?”

“The
way he met your grandmother, you mean?
 
Yes.”
 
He was relieved when the
tale came easily to mind.

“Tell
me.”
 
She passed her tongue over her lips
and sighed.
 
“I’m listening.
 
I just want to close my eyes for a minute.”

He
began the story, pitching his voice low and finding a rhythm he hoped might
lull her to sleep.
 
“In 1892, Michael
Shannon left Carlow County for New York, taking a ship from Liverpool.
 
On that ship was also a young lady named Anna
Haskill, from Thirsk, in Yorkshire.
 
She
was going to New York as maid to a young bride, and he was going to make his
fortune.”
 
He paused, thinking Peg might
have drifted off.
 

“And. .
.”

“They
met on the trip over and Michael fell in love with Anna.
 
She, however, did not return the favor.
 
It took some time, once they reached America,
for her to accept his attentions and eventually agree to become his wife.”

“
And
. . .”

He
searched for more, grasping at a straw, which thankfully seemed to satisfy
her.
 
“They had a son, Michael, but it
was almost fifteen years before their second son, Sean was born.
 
By then, the elder Michael had made his
fortune, just as planned.
 
When a third
son, Patrick and a daughter, Adelaide, were born, Anna decided she wanted to
take her family back to England.”
 
He
lowered his voice, letting it trail to a whisper.
 
“But young Michael stayed behind to attend
Cornell and went on to take over the bank established by his father.”
 
He paused as Peg’s breathing slowed and her
head sagged to one side.
 

The
doctor, followed by Hannah bearing a large metal basin of white plaster,
returned.
 
Peg opened her eyes long
enough to lock his gaze.
 
“Don’t leave
me!
 
Promise.”

“I
promise.”
 
He took her hand, pressing it
between his.
 
“You’re the bravest girl I
know, Peg Shannon.”

“No.
 
I’m a coward.
 
If I could run right now, you’d never catch me.”

He
chuckled despite the lump tightening his throat.
 
“We’re ready, doctor, though you may have to
treat my hand once you’re done.
 
This
little girl has quite a grip.”

Mercifully,
she passed out during the actual setting of the ankle.
 
Kendall had put an arm around her, bracing
her shoulders against his chest, and he felt her relax a moment after the
doctor grasped her foot, splinting it to its normal position.
 
Throughout the lengthy process of applying
layers of gauze and plaster, he tried not to think of Michael Shannon’s reaction
when he learned of Peg’s injury.
 
Guilt,
fear and anger with himself whirled uncomfortably in his brain, tensing his
muscles and turning his stomach.
 
Here in
his arms, Peg seemed a helpless child, one he had failed to protect.
 
That her own headstrong determination had
driven her up that tree made no difference.
 
He should have been watching, should have stopped her, although he
wondered if anyone really had the power to match her willful reason when she
made up her mind to a thing.
 
Perhaps her
father would eventually excuse his negligence, but he felt sure he would never
forgive himself for his failure.

When
the cast was drying and the doctor had packed his bags, he motioned for Kendall
to join him in the entry.
 
“I’ll come
back this evening.
 
She seems fine other
than the ankle, but we’ll keep a check on her all the same.
 
Hannah tells me she’s Michael’s girl.
 
I’m sure he’ll
be wanting
a word or two with me.”

“You
know her father, then?”

“Oh,
yes.
 
And I know he’ll
be
needing
every reassurance that she’s all right.
 
He’s a fine man, but something of an
overprotective father.
 
I remember the
last time he brought her here, back before the war.
 
Just a little thing she was then.
 
She took a spill, cut her knee, and the way he
carried on, you’d have thought she was bleeding to death.
 
Try to downplay the accident, son.
 
Not too many details, if you get my
meaning.
 
It’ll be best for everyone.”

Turning
back to the parlor, Kendall felt far from comforted by those words.
 
He knelt once again next to the divan, noting
how frail and innocent Peg seemed in her rumpled play clothes, one braid
missing its blue bow.
 
Her face was pale
and tense with what he imagined to be pain-filled dreams.
 
As he listened to the soft whistle of her
breathing, he felt the urgent need to beg someone’s forgiveness.
 
Prayer, he’d learned in recent years, had the
power to at least momentarily ease guilt.
 
It was worth a try, although he wondered if God might not have become
bored with him by now.