Yesterday's Roses (3 page)

“Damn it!” Jake bellowed. “Hop Yung! You get your yellow ass—” He whipped around, only to find Hop Yung right behind him. A muscle worked in his jaw as he skewered the houseboy with his angry glare. “Where the hell is Dr. Barnes? I sent you for him more than an hour ago! So help me, Hop, if you forgot to fetch the doctor—”

“Hop talk to doctor assistant,” the Chinese man cut in defensively. “He say doctor come r-right way!” At his employer's quelling expression, the houseboy swallowed hard and sidled toward the door. “Hop go. See what keep doctor.” With that, he sprang out the door, slamming it behind him with a loud
bang!

“Celine? How much time do you think we have?” Jake asked the black woman, distractedly raking his fingers through his hair.

“Don' know, Mista Jake. She seems real bad off. Don' know what else to do.”

“Excuse me,” Hallie interrupted. All three people jerked around, obviously having forgotten her presence. “Maybe I can help?” When they just stared at her as if she had suddenly mutated into a three-headed monster with cloven hoofs and a forked tail, she proceeded urgently, “There is someone who needs a doctor's services, and this Dr. Barnes doesn't seem to be in any kind of a hurry to get here. Perhaps I should have a look at the patient.”

It was Penelope who finally broke the stunned silence. “Absolutely not! Dr. Barnes will be here any time. We know and
trust
him!”

“Are you so sure he's coming? God knows, I've been in enough situations where I couldn't leave a patient, not even if President Johnson himself had demanded my services.”

Jake ran his thumb across his jaw and studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “Are you a good doctor?”

She answered without the slightest hesitation, “Very good.” And the words rang true.

“You've got conviction, I'll grant you that. I'm almost inclined to believe you.”

“Jake!” Penelope shrieked, trying to be heard above the raucous cries, which had resumed with a vengeance. “You're not actually considering engaging this woman, are you? I'm not at all convinced that she's not a fraud.”

Fraud. Charlatan. Butcher. That did it! Hallie had had enough, thank you kindly. She'd been gracious enough to offer her services, and they'd been insulting in their refusal.

“Fine!” she snapped. “Then I don't see any point in continuing this interview. I'll be returning to the mission now, and leaving you to the tender mercies of this Dr. Barnes—if he shows.”

As she turned to leave, Jake Parrish's hand shot out and grasped her arm in a bruising grip. When he turned her to face him, Hallie could have sworn that she read a fleeting anguish in his expression. Visibly wincing at the sound of another heartrending wail, he nodded.

Penelope's face distorted into a study of horror as she realized her brother's intent. “Jake, if you engage this woman and something goes wrong, well, don't say I didn't warn you!” Lifting her skirts, she ran up the stairs, her shoulders shaking with soundless sobs.

Jake's eyes narrowed as he met Hallie's indignant glare. “You say you're a good doctor and you want to help?” His punishing grasp tightened on her arm. “Then pray for strength, Dr. Gardiner. You're hired!”

Chapter 2

“Fine.” Hallie nodded at Jake Parrish, picking up the gauntlet he'd defiantly thrown. “Of course, I'll require the use of
both
my arms in order to provide my best services. That is, if you haven't permanently impaired my circulation.”

Jake glanced down, genuinely startled by her remark. He was clutching her arm so tightly that the veins in his hand were standing out in tense relief. Murmuring an apology, he loosened his grip and deftly eased his hand into a gentle, massaging motion.

A burning tingle raced down Hallie's arm as her blood resumed its flow. Surprised at the tenderness of his ministrations, she quickly glanced up from his long-fingered hand to his face. As their eyes met, she could have sworn that he looked … kind.

Confusion and hallucinations are common symptoms of a head injury
, she told herself, suddenly wondering if she'd suffered a worse fall from the gate than she had previously thought. After all, as Mr. Parrish had already pointed out, he wasn't kind.

“Doc?”

Hallie jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Your arm? I take it you've suffered no permanent damage?”

“Uh? Oh … no.”

He smirked at her confusion in a manner that made Hallie long to kick him. Arrogant beast! She would have thoroughly enjoyed watching His Supreme Smugness's face dissolve into a mask of pain and outrage as he howled at the indignity of it all.

“The patient?” he prompted with mock helpfulness.

“Of course.” She gave the arm he was massaging an impatient tug. “Will you please stop prodding at my arm in that annoying fashion? Must I remind you that I'm hardly a delicate young miss and am not likely to fall into a fit of vapors at a little rough handling?”

“Yes to your first question.” Jake abruptly dropped her arm. “And no to your second.”

To Hallie's mortification, he leaned forward to examine her face critically, making it clear that he was searching for signs of her impending fossilization. As if in confirmation of some insulting conclusion, he nodded and actually had the nerve to chuckle.

Uppity bastard!
Hallie's foot began to twitch.
I know exactly where I'd like to kick him.

Arching his brows in feigned astonishment, his voice dripping with sarcasm, Jake said, “Let's see now … one … two. I count two arms and both in your possession. Are you ready to begin your duties?” His handsome face became the picture of solicitude. “Of course, I realize that you're no longer a young miss and your circulation might not be what it once was. If you need more time—”

“I'm fine,” she snapped. The gall of the man, alluding to her age. Good Lord! She was only twenty-six years old, hardly ready for a shawl and cane. With an indignant sniff, she said, “If you're finished wasting my time with your pleasantries, I'd like to do the job you've hired me for.”

His only response was another of his superior snorts. As he turned on his heel, he nodded over his shoulder, apparently expecting her to follow.

The man must be suffering from a nasal condition,
she thought spitefully.
And hadn't Penelope snorted in much the same manner? Must be a family defect.
Well, she had just the treatment for their condition. One that involved a big, sharp hook.

So caught up was Hallie in her delightful pictures of treating Mr. High and Mighty's nose to the agonies of the hook that she was completely robbed of her breath, more from surprise than impact, when she slammed into something solid. An explosive curse told her that the “something solid” was Jake Parrish's back.

Instinctively she grabbed at him for support but soon realized her mistake. He, too, appeared to be fighting for his balance. For one dreadful instant, Hallie was certain they were about to go tumbling down the stairs to land in an ignominious pile in the foyer below.

To her eternal relief, Mr. Parrish quickly mastered the situation. Crushing Hallie against his side with one steely arm, he grabbed the oak banister and managed to haul them both to a more stable perch. As Hallie went hurling into his hard chest, she heard something clatter down the stairs.

They stood frozen in that position, Hallie clutched against the strength of his tall form, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, both fighting to catch their breath. The impropriety of their closeness was forgotten in favor of mutual relief, but only for a moment.

All too quickly, Hallie became all too aware of the muscles rippling beneath the fine linen of his shirt. There was something about the way his powerful torso pressed against her soft curves that made it impossible for her to breathe. Pointedly ignoring the spicy, masculine scent that clung to his waistcoat, Hallie turned her face from where it had been buried against his wide shoulder, suddenly overwhelmed by his disconcerting proximity.

She raised her eyes to see if their closeness was having the same electrifying effect on her rescuer as it did on herself. If the strange expression on his face was any indication of his feelings, then Jake Parrish was definitely disturbed by something. But it clearly wasn't Hallie's person doing the disturbing. Swallowing something that felt suspiciously like disappointment, Hallie pushed away from his slackening hold and followed his troubled gaze to the object at the bottom of the steep stairway.

It was just a cane. A black one with a gold top, to be exact. As Jake Parrish uttered a soft but graphic oath, Hallie cast him a questioning look. Pointedly ignoring her stare, he cursed again and struggled to brace himself more firmly against the banister, holding on to the gleaming wood as if it were a lifeline in a storm-swept ocean.

Hallie was puzzled by the expression of frustrated helplessness that spread across his face. He looked so … lost, as he seemed to mentally gauge the distance between himself and his cane. It was then that she realized the truth, and it stunned her: the cane wasn't an affectation. Jake Parrish was a cripple.

And she was a doctor, for God's sake! Why hadn't she noticed such an obvious infirmity before now?

Because you couldn't get past that pretty face of his,
she admitted to herself.

Cautiously, he took a halting step down, never once looking at Hallie. It was almost as if he was afraid of what he would see in her eyes. At his next step, his left leg gave out, and as he stumbled, his hissing intake of breath told her of his pain. Hallie impulsively reached forward to offer him support, but snatched her arm away before he could see it. She could only guess at how galling such a handicap was to a man as proud as Jake Parrish and knew that by offering her assistance she would only be adding to his indignity.

Politely, she pretended not to hear him as he drew deep, ragged breaths, or to watch him when he pressed his hand hard against his left thigh as if to ease a nagging ache. She even managed to avoid staring at the way his knuckles had bleached to a bloodless white with the tension of his grasp on the handrail. But when she saw a quicksilver flash of vulnerability burst across his previously blank face, Hallie knew she didn't have the heart to subject him to any further humiliation.

Acting quickly, she sighed, “Oh, clumsy me! If I'm not tripping over my own two feet, I'm dropping or breaking something. ‘Hide all the breakables!' my father would always shout. ‘Here comes the most graceless creature on the face of the earth!'” She illustrated her point by tripping down the stairs like a hell-bent hoyden to retrieve his cane.

As she handed it to him in a brisk, matter-of-fact manner, he gifted her, for the first time, with a genuine smile. Hallie swallowed hard as she stared at the dimple provocatively creasing his left cheek. She had realized that he was an extraordinarily handsome man, but when he smiled like that, he was more beautiful than the archangel in the church window back home. And she'd had more than her share of romantic fancies about that angel.

“Did your father really call you graceless?”

Hallie forcibly composed herself and nodded.

“Then his definition of grace differs from mine.” Jake expertly positioned the cane and with an incline of his head said, “If you'll follow me, Dr. Gardiner, I believe I hear your patient clamoring for your services.”

Indeed, the din had resumed with a vengeance. Without further comment, he began his tedious, self-conscious trek up the stairs, leaving Hallie to pace herself behind his awkward gait.

Though the stairs had been an ordeal for Mr. Parrish, he proved to be adept at maneuvering through the halls, and Hallie found herself almost running to keep up. As they rounded a corner, the wails grew deafening.

Suppressing the urge to clamp her hands over her ears, Hallie studied the corridor in which they had paused. There were two doors on either side of the hall, which ended at a pair of leaded-glass doors opening onto a spacious balcony. Shafts of late-afternoon sunlight glittered through the diamondlike windowpanes, infusing the entire area with a warm glow. Hallie would have found the effect enchanting had it not been for the heavy ironwork barring the doors—and the screaming.

Hallie looked to Jake Parrish with mute inquiry. Her question was not
why
he needed those bars, for the animalistic howls were answer enough, but for
whom
?

As if in answer to her unasked question, he shoved open the second door on the right, a motion which elicited a battery of garbled screeches from the occupant within.

“Dr. Gardiner,” he drawled, keeping his face rigidly void of expression. “Allow me to introduce you to my charming wife, Serena.”

The woman strapped to the functional iron bed struggled against her bonds at Hallie's approach. Serena Parrish had once been a beautiful woman, that much was apparent, even in the semidarkness of the room. Traces of her former glory were still visible in the white-gold iridescence of her matted hair, and in the amazing eyes that shocked the senses with their blaze of cerulean fire burning against the contrasting chalky white canvas of her face.

Though her face had that pinched, drawn look which Hallie associated with wasting illness, the well-bred elegance of the woman's bone structure had defied the ravaging forces of her ailment. Her screams had ceased when she'd caught sight of the stranger with her husband, and she now lay quietly, her lips still trembling. Hypnotically, Hallie was reminded of a moonlight nymph startled by the unexpected presence of a lowly mortal.

The silence also made Hallie twice as conscious of the crunch of broken glass beneath her boots. Drawing her attention away from the spell cast by Serena's compelling face, she peered down at the floor in disgust. Nasty, viscous-looking liquids congealed with multicolored powders amid the shattered remains of glass vials, staining the rich Aubusson carpet. The once beautiful parquet floor beneath the carpet was badly scarred, as if it had been subjected to violent and frequent blows; the spartan furnishings were bolted to the floor. All in all, the room bore evidence of a recent conflict, as well as the marks of past battles.

Though Serena's belly was heavily swollen with child, Hallie could tell by the size of her hands and feet that she was a small woman, and she had trouble visualizing her wreaking such havoc. Yet how else would one explain those thick leather straps binding her ankles and wrists?

Serena lay still for a moment, her expression angelic as she surveyed Hallie. “How very kind of you to visit,” she drawled in a voice thick with the echoes of Dixie. “Shall I ring Bosworth for refreshments? Yes, I do believe lemonade and … some of Mammy Celine's blackberry pound cake would be wonderful.” She pursed her lips for a moment, her gaze sweeping Hallie from head to toe. Smiling cordially, she added, “Why, I'm green with envy over that gown of yours. Is that one of Monsieur Worth's new creations?”

Jake snorted at his wife's remark. “As you can tell from that particular comment, our Serena is somewhat deluded.”

The clicking of his cane against the wooden floor warned Hallie that he had abandoned his relaxed stance against the door frame and was now stalking toward them. When the clicking came to a halt, Hallie could feel his presence at her back. Just as she was about to question him about his wife's condition, he hissed, “Damn it to hell!”

The explosiveness of his curse made Hallie jerk her head around in wonder. To her discomfort, she found her face scant inches from his chest. Hallie Gardiner was considered tall for a woman—an Amazon, according to her father. Yet next to Mr. Parrish she felt almost petite. For the first time in her life she was forced to tip her head back to peer into a man's face.

What she saw in this particular man's face was an anger so palpable that it would have burned her with its intensity had it been trained in her direction. Which it wasn't, thank God.

Hallie traced his fury-sparked gaze to the woman on the bed. Surely he didn't blame this pathetic creature for her condition, did he? Nervously chewing the inside of her cheek, she stole another glance at his face. She wasn't particularly comforted by the stony mask which had descended over his blazing features.

“Has the doctor finally arrived then, sir?” inquired a brusque voice tinged with a trace of an Irish accent.

Hallie didn't miss the way Serena flinched at the sound of the connecting door slamming shut.

A large, rawboned woman carrying a broom trudged to the bedside. Pausing to bestow a rancorous glare on Serena, she snapped, “Made quite a mess, did we? Always makin' extra work with never a thought for us poor souls havin' to clean up.”

Serena began to shake, her mouth working soundlessly, as the woman's bulky form loomed against the foot of the bed. Violently she twisted from side to side, her body arching rhythmically. It was almost as if she were seeking to escape some great torment. Whimpering like a frightened child, she jerked her head up and stared past Hallie. When her gaze touched her husband's, she started to wail.