Tracie Peterson - [Land of Shining Water 02] (5 page)

For now she tore through the cabinets in the kitchen and scoured them thoroughly. She wasn’t about to unpack her mother’s good dishes until she could be assured that they would be safely stored.

Goodness, but what was Father thinking? This is no house in which to bring a sick woman
.

The heat of the day was well upon them, and sweat trickled down Emmalyne’s face and neck. She pulled the scarf from her head and wiped at the dampness, then got back to work. She was battling cobwebs near the corner of the room where the cabinets ended when the sound of an approaching wagon filled her with dread. Had Father returned already? She wasn’t nearly finished. . . .

Climbing down from her perch on an overturned box, Emmalyne went to the door. To her surprise and horror, however, she saw a smartly dressed man climbing down from a small buggy. He was tall and lean, with brown hair that looked kissed by the sun. Emmalyne thought him quite handsome, and when he turned and smiled, she couldn’t help but react the same way.

“Welcome, sir.”

“Thank you. Is this the Knox home?”

Emmalyne couldn’t contain her chuckle. “Such as it is. I’m afraid we’ve a great deal to do in order to make it a home.”

“I’m Dr. Jason Williams. I saw your mother at the hotel yesterday and promised to check in on her today. When I arrived at the hotel, they told me where you’d gone. Since I had to see a few other patients out this way, I thought I’d stop by.”

“That was very kind,” Emmalyne said, fervently wishing she weren’t so dirty. “Please come in. I’ve been working, as you can see, but my mother is resting in her room. I’ll show you the way.”

Dr. Williams entered the house behind her and followed her to the bedroom. Emmalyne opened the door a crack. “Mother? Dr. Williams is here to see you.”

“Let him in,” her mother replied, her voice sounding frail.

Emmalyne pushed the door open and stepped back. “I’ll be getting back to work now,” she said, excusing herself. “Let me know if you need me for anything.” Dr. Williams nodded and smiled, and Emmalyne found herself wishing she didn’t have to return to her task. He was such a nice-looking man. Tall too. She wondered what it might be like to dance with him, then chided herself for being silly. She had no time for dancing! Besides, there would be no man for her. Not with the tradition in place. That wasn’t going to change.

She climbed back onto the box and busied herself with the cobwebs. Minutes ticked by, and Emmalyne couldn’t help but wonder what the doctor might conclude about her mother’s condition. For the last eleven years her mother had seen a bevy of physicians, druggists, and healers, and they always left her with bottles of medicines that seemed to only make her more disinterested in life and her family.

Emmalyne moved onto a chair in order to reach the very tops of the cabinets and considered what she would do if Dr. Williams recommended the same treatments as previous doctors. It had been difficult to convince her mother that laudanum and the like were bad for her, but such drugs had Rowena all but incapable of minimal functions. If yet another person of authority suggested this treatment, Emmalyne feared Mother would once again succumb to the addictive grip of such medicines.

Perhaps if I spoke to the doctor and explained the situation, he wouldn’t be inclined to give her such things
, Emmalyne thought. The man seemed quite nice, and perhaps he would agree that such medications did more harm than good.

“I hoped you would be nearby,” Dr. Williams said, coming up behind her.

Startled, Emmalyne turned much too quickly and lost her balance. She caught her heel on the edge of the chair and began to fall. She let out a little squeal, trying to maintain her grip on the cabinet door, but the piece broke off in her hand.

The good doctor stood ready to assist, however. He caught her easily and gave a laugh as the chair fell over.

“You needn’t throw yourself at me, for I must admit I’ve already found you to be quite fetching.”

Emmalyne’s face burned with embarrassment. “I . . . I’m so . . . so sorry. You startled me, and I lost my balance.”

Their faces were barely inches apart. He grinned. “I know. I was here.”

“Of course,” she said, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

Emmalyne grew uncomfortable as he continued to support her. “Uh, you can put me down now.”

“I suppose I should.” He flashed her a smile. “But it seems such a shame.” He chuckled as he let her feet touch the floor, waiting to release her until she appeared stable.

Emmalyne brushed back her hair that had escaped its protective scarf and tried to regain her dignity. “How is Mother?”

“I think she’ll be just fine. I recommended she get outdoors more. The fresh air and sunshine will do her more good than anything. You might consider setting up a place for her outside. She could rest there and read, watch the birds.”

“I think I could arrange that,” Emmalyne said, relieved that he wasn’t offering yet another drug. “Do you have any idea of what’s wrong with her?”

“Not in full. At this moment I don’t feel I know her well enough to make a complete diagnosis. She seems exhausted. Perhaps the move has been harder on her than anyone realizes.”

Emmalyne nodded. “Maybe. She has been quite tired for a very long time, however.”

“Well, I shall return tomorrow to check on her again. Maybe I’ll have a better chance to discuss her condition with her. Or with you.”

Emmalyne couldn’t think of anything to say. Dr. Williams’s presence made her most . . . uneasy. It wouldn’t be hard at all to lose herself in those blue eyes and deep voice.

“I suppose until tomorrow . . .” he said, letting the words trail off.

“Hopefully I’ll have things in better order when you come again,” Emmalyne said, feeling silly about her girlish thoughts. “Perhaps then I can offer you some tea.”

“Maybe you should stay off the chairs. Unless, of course, someone is around to catch you.” He smiled and walked from the room, leaving Emmalyne fighting the urge to follow him.

Dr. Jason Williams was whistling a tune by the time he returned to St. Cloud. He strolled into Dr. John Schultz’s office with a smile on his face and plans in his heart. Plans to once again see Emmalyne Knox.

“You seem mighty chipper,” the older doctor said, looking up from his desk.

“I am. I just might be in love,” Jason said, feeling sheepish but also exhilarated.

Dr. Schultz shook his head. “I thought you were tending patients. Seemed to me it was mostly older folks. How is it that you found time to fall in love on the way?”

Jason laughed and sank down into the leather chair opposite Dr. Schultz’s desk. “I went to tend to Mrs. Knox and found she has a beautiful cinnamon-haired, blue-eyed daughter . . . Emmalyne.”

Schultz chuckled, leaned back, and folded his hands. “And you found her condition to be much more interesting than that of her mother’s, I take it?”

Shrugging, Jason picked lint from his trouser leg. “I suppose I was taken by surprise. In more ways than one. The young lady fell into my arms, you might say.”

“And how did that happen, may I ask?”

Jason related the story and ended with a devilish grin. “I must say, I didn’t mind the imposition at all.”

The older German man laughed. “
Ja
, I can see that. So tell me how you found the patient.”

“Mrs. Knox? I believe her to be suffering nothing more than melancholia. I’ll know more after additional visits, but her vital signs were good and she had no complaint of pain. She spoke of feeling tired, and after listening to her I believe it’s more a weariness of the soul and mind.”

“That kind of weariness can lead to physical ailments, as you must know,” Dr. Schultz countered.

“I do. My work in Kansas City included many such cases, especially in older women.”

“And our other patients?”

Jason smiled. “They were quite welcoming to me. You’ve done a good job of preparing folks for your retirement. They are sorry to see you go, however. Mrs. Bushburn told me she would never trust another doctor as much as she trusted you.”

“In time she’ll realize that she can feel the same way about you.” Dr. Schultz pulled glasses from his face and rubbed his eyes. “It will simply take time for folks to get to know you. I knew that when I advertised for someone to take over my practice.”

Jason had answered that ad some three months earlier and now felt that St. Cloud was as much home to him as Kansas City had ever been. Having been born and raised in Kansas, Jason found Minnesota to be similar in many ways. Vast farmland bore rich crops, and the people were warm and welcoming. Country folk seemed more than willing to lend aid to their neighbor, where city dwellers were
more reclusive. Jason found he much preferred the former to the latter.

“How are you feeling today, John?” Jason asked, seeing the man grimace as he replaced his glasses.

“The pain is increasing. I would imagine we’re due a storm.”

Dr. Schultz suffered an increasingly debilitating form of arthritis that left him less and less capable of dealing with even simple daily tasks. Much to his disappointment, it had begun to interfere with his medical work, and so he had decided to resign and move east to live with his daughter and son-in-law.

“It was clouding up to the south and west,” Jason told him. “No doubt we’ll see rain by nightfall.”

“No doubt.”

“Did you manage to make it over to the MacLachlans’?” Dr. Schultz asked, looking relieved to put aside any further talk of his own condition.

“I did. I met most of the family. Mr. MacLachlan was even present. He’s fully recovered from his back injury and said to give you his appreciation.”

Dr. Schultz smiled. “I’ve known Robert and his family for a long while. They’re good people. It’s a shame so much sorrow has visited them of late.”

“Didn’t you also say something about knowing the Knox family?”

“I didn’t really know them,” the older man replied. “I knew of them. They were in this area when the tornado of ’86 came through. They left right after that. I don’t know much else. I believe perhaps they lost their home to that storm.” Gazing upward, he rubbed his chin. “Seems maybe there was even a death in the family.” He shook his head. “That was a long while back.”

“Maybe returning to this area is one of the reasons for Mrs. Knox’s sadness. I shall question her more about it when I see her next. Or maybe it would be better for me to talk with her daughter.” He got to his feet. “After all, she might be able to give me some details that her mother would be unwilling to tell.”

“Perhaps,” Dr. Schultz replied, shaking his head. “Just try to keep in mind who the patient is and where your attention needs to be.”

Emmalyne continued to think about Dr. Jason Williams days after his departure. He had not made it back the next day as he’d indicated, and she couldn’t help but wonder if somehow her actions had offended him. He hadn’t seemed offended, truth be told. In fact, he’d seemed more than happy to have assisted her. Emmalyne gave a little shiver of delight at the thought of his arms about her.

“Dr. Williams said the sunshine and fresh air would do you good, Mother,” she said. “I’m going to make you a nice little arbor retreat where you can relax and read a book.”

Her mother limply waved a handkerchief. “I’m not up to that today. I’m much too tired. Just bring some tea and toast to my bed.”

“Dr. Williams seems to really care about your well-being, Mother. I think he’s probably a very wise doctor. He didn’t suggest any of the silly remedies that some of your physicians have given you in the past. I think he may truly be able to help you get your strength back.”

Her mother sighed and looked toward the single window in the bedroom. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have my strength
again. Your father . . . well, he knows how hard it is for me to come back to this place. Even if my health were better, it would be difficult for my heart to bear.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“I know it is hard to be here,” Emmalyne soothed, gently cradling her mother’s hand in her own. “But maybe in a few days you’ll feel better, and we can make a journey to the . . . cemetery. Perhaps it would comfort you to see the nice stones that the MacLachlans arranged for Doreen and Lorna.”

Her mother continued to gaze toward the window. There was nothing to see, however. Emmalyne knew the glass was coated with grime since she’d not yet had time to clean it. Besides that, the view was limited to the rickety old building they called a barn. Even so, the glass did allow for some light to enter the room. Perhaps cleaning and opening it would introduce Mother to the doctor’s suggestion of fresh air and sunshine.

“A mother never recovers from the loss of a child,” Rowena said in a hoarse whisper. “A mother never intends to dress a child for burial or touch her cold, lifeless face. The pain in my heart is only made stronger by returning to this place. It would be better for me to have died.”

Emmalyne felt her heart constrict. “Now, Mother, you know such talk gains you nothing,” she said. “Obviously God had a reason for you remaining here with Father and Angus and me. The tornado could have just as easily taken any of us.” She gripped her mother’s hand.

“But if I hadn’t sent the girls to town that day, they might still be alive. Your father has oft said as much.”

She murmured something, but Emmalyne couldn’t make out the words. In times of deepest sorrow her mother would often revert to the Welsh language of her youth.

“Mother, you had no way of knowing there was to be a storm.” Emmalyne reached for her mother’s robe. “Why don’t you sit here in the rocker while I straighten your bed?”

Her mother seemed oblivious to the question. “They were so close to home when the storm hit. If I’d sent them earlier, they might have returned in time to take cover in the cellar.”

Emmalyne knew it was useless to attempt to halt her mother’s regretful memories. They would simply have to play themselves out.

“Mother, you have often told me that only God has the power of life and death. Doreen and Lorna loved God just as you taught us. We mourn their passing, but they are in a better place now.”

“It was such a bad storm.” Mother slowly shook her head. “So much damage. So much death.”

“Aye, many lives were lost,” Emmalyne agreed. “Ours was not the only family to have faced death that day.”

Her mother looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Of course you’re right.” She looked at the robe Emmalyne held. “Is that for me? I’m not chilled.”

“I didn’t think you were, Mother. I need to straighten your bed, however. You will be much more comfortable with nice smooth sheets.”

“Aye. ’Tis true.” She allowed Emmalyne to help her up.

With her mother settled in the rocker, Emmalyne went quickly to work to remake the bed. “We have some very nice trees on the property, Mother,” she said, hoping to engage her mother in more pleasant conversation. “Aspens, mulberry, juneberry, oak, maple . . . Oh, and there are several pines, although I’m not certain of their type. There are plum trees, just as Father told me. It looks like there will be a nice crop
of fruit this year.” Emmalyne tucked in the sheet and smiled. “There’s a nice stream that runs behind the barn and a clearing in the shade nearby that might be a good place to set up a lounge for you.”

“We had a lovely burn that ran along our property in Scotland,” her mother murmured, her voice sounding far away. “My brothers oft fished those banks, and we girls liked to wade there in the warmth of summer.”

With the bed made and the pillows fluffed, Emmalyne said, her voice light and encouraging, “Wouldn’t you like to stay up for a while? You could keep me company while I do the kitchen walls.”

“I suppose I could sit up for a short time,” her mother said, sounding less than enthusiastic about the idea.

“Good.” Emmalyne gave her no time to change her mind. “Come along, then. You can sit at the table. Angus put it together this morning before he left.” She helped Mother to her feet. “I can make you some tea if you’d like.”

“That might be nice.”

Once she had made her mother comfortable, Emmalyne went to the stove. “I’ve managed to get things fairly well arranged. It was very dirty in here, but not as bad as I’d originally thought. Only two of the cabinets were in need of repair.” She didn’t bother to add that one of those had suffered only because of her grip on it when she fell . . . into the doctor’s arms.

Checking the stove’s fuel, Emmalyne added a few pieces of wood. The day would be much too warm to keep the stove heating at full capacity. She’d already put together a nice hash for their dinner and baked it during the cooler hours of the morning.

“The water will heat shortly. I made some scones this morning. Would you like one? You hardly ate any breakfast, and it’s already well past lunch.”

“I suppose I must. Do we have any jam?”

“Of course,” Emmalyne said with a smile. “Remember all the preserves we put up in Minneapolis?” Mother hadn’t participated all that much in their preparation, but Emmalyne knew she would remember the steaming jars lined up to cool. “I have some plum, blackberry, or apple jelly.”

“Plum sounds fine.”

Emmalyne prepared her mother a small scone with butter and the plum jam and brought it to the table. After the water heated and the tea was prepared, Emmalyne finally pulled on one of her brother’s old shirts and went back to her brush and the whitewash.

“Don’t you think the white color brightens things up considerably?” she asked over her shoulder as she retouched areas where the wash seemed thin.

“I suppose so.” Mother nibbled at the scone, and Emmalyne gave her a smile.

“Perhaps one day you will feel like making some curtains for the window. I had to throw the old ones away. You always make such nice curtains, Mother. I especially like it when you sew them with smocking and lace. They make a kitchen look so inviting.”

“I haven’t the energy to even think about such things.”

Emmalyne continued to wield her brush. “Well, I think in another few days you’ll start to feel better.” She was going to say something more, but the sounds out in the front yard drew her attention. “Sounds like someone is here. Maybe Dr. Williams has come to check up on you.”