Yesterday's Roses (35 page)

“I know. But if you'll have me, I'd very much
like
to marry you.” He lightly traced the shape of her ear with his tongue, pleased with her trembling response. “Don't you know that you're everything to me, Miss Hallie Gardiner? That I don't want to be without you, even for a moment? Say you'll marry me, sweetheart.”

Hallie wrinkled her forehead as if considering his proposal. “Only if you tell me what the ‘V' stands for.” She traced the monogram on his pillow case with her fingertip.

“Valentine,” he mumbled, with a pained expression. “My mother was a sentimental woman.”

“But your birthday is in November?”

“Nine months later—on the sixteenth,” he replied with a meaningful smile.

“I don't understand … Oh!” She flushed a dull red as she grasped his meaning.

“Exactly. My parents knew how to celebrate Saint Valentine's day right. Care to spend it in the same manner, Dr. Gardiner? This year and every year?”

She threw her arms around him, drawing him close until his head rested against her breasts. “I want you so badly it makes me ache! Yes!”

“Not nearly as badly as you're making me ache.” With a sigh, Jake burrowed his cheek against Hallie's pillowing softness, contentedly molding his body against hers. They fit together as perfectly as if they'd been made for each other.

“I certainly hope Seth hurries back,” he muttered, his body throbbing at her closeness. “I'd hate for you to break your promise to God.”

And on the first day of the year 1866, wearing her tattered old gown, Dr. Hallie Gardiner became Mrs. Jake Parrish. Though she hadn't walked down a rose-strewn aisle to the strains of Mendelssohn's “Wedding March” or worn a gown of fine Brussels lace, Hallie couldn't have asked for a more beautiful wedding. She was marrying the man of her heart, and that made it perfect.

C
hapter 23

Hallie stood in the cool entry hall, stripping off her cocoa-colored kidskin gloves. She had just spent the afternoon inspecting the framing of the new Mission House and Mission Infirmary and was now preoccupied with making a mental list of the furnishings and supplies that would be needed once the buildings were complete.

True to Jake's generous nature, he had offered to rebuild the Mission House, as well as adding a separate, forty-bed hospital. He insisted that both buildings be built of only the finest materials and by the most skilled of craftsmen, and just thinking about the staggering cost was enough to make Hallie cringe. Thrifty by nature, she frequently tried to point out ways to save money, but he merely shrugged and ordered the sturdier flooring or the heavier roofing, claiming that the extra expense was a small price to pay to ensure Hallie's safety.

Hallie felt her heart swell with joy, as it always did when she thought of her wonderful husband. She was the luckiest woman in the world to be married to Jake Parrish. Unlike most men she knew, who would have keeled over of apoplexy at the mere idea of their wives practicing medicine, Jake was proud of her accomplishments and never failed to introduce her as his wife,
Dr.
Parrish. And though she was often called away from home on emergencies, sometimes at the expense of their evenings together, she had yet to hear him complain.

Feeling truly blessed, she laid her gloves on the foyer table and began to remove her fashionable pillbox hat. As she looked into the gilt-framed mirror before her, she grinned at the frivolous creation on her head.

The hat was as different from her burned-up bonnets as a butterfly was from a moth. Made of copper-colored crushed velvet and liberally trimmed with ribbons in shades of cocoa and gold, it was the most beautiful hat she had ever owned. She paused to caress the soft fabric before laying it on top of her gloves. The hat was a perfect example of Jake's exquisite taste, as was every item in her extensive new wardrobe.

When she had first seen the dazzling selection of gowns and feminine frippery he'd ordered, she had accused him of taking leave of his senses. It was positively sinful the way the man spoiled her. Speaking of sinful …

She had been speechless with equal parts shock and pleasure when he had unwrapped a daring array of gossamer undergarments; she had been overwhelmed with desire when he had then whispered temptingly into her ear, begging her to don her new unmentionables and treat him to an intimate examination.

Consequently, every time she felt the silken undergarments caressing her flesh beneath her clothing, she was reminded of the way Jake had loved her that afternoon. Not that she needed reminding, of course. For how could one forget a trip to paradise?

So blissful was Hallie in her new life that she had playfully renamed Parrish House “Eden,” a change which had prompted Jake to suggest some sinfully wicked uses for apples. Unfortunately, like Eve in the biblical garden paradise, Hallie, too, was plagued with a serpent who sought to expel her from her heaven on earth.

That serpent was named Penelope.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Hallie turned away from the mirror. After numerous sharp rebukes and stern lectures from Jake, Penelope no longer openly expressed her hostility toward her new sister-in-law. In fact, unless she was spoken to directly, she didn't speak at all. And in those instances when she was obligated to reply, she would likely as not answer in monosyllables. As for the girl's relationship with her brother, it had become cool almost to the point of alienation.

It was that change in relationship that concerned Hallie the most. Though Jake never discussed the troubling situation, she could tell that his sister's withdrawal hurt him.

Hallie bristled defensively at the thought of Penelope's spiteful behavior. Well, she'd be damned before she would allow the spoiled brat to cause Jake any more pain. He deserved his sister's love and respect, and she intended to see that he got it. That decision made, she squared her shoulders and tightened her lips into a determined line. There would be peace in the Parrish household. Now. Before it was too late and irreparable damage had been done to the Parrish siblings' relationship.

Steeling herself for what was bound to prove an unpleasant encounter, Hallie marched down the hall toward the music room. Penelope's great love in life was her music, and the girl spent most of her afternoons at the piano practicing her singing.

But this afternoon the music room was empty.

“Hop!” Hallie hollered, spying the houseboy at the far end of the hall.

Quick as a speeding cannonball, the little man was by her side. Sketching a deferential bow, he inquired, “Missee Parrish need Hop?”

Hallie nodded. “Have you seen Penelope?”

The mere mention of Penelope's name was enough to make Hop assume an expression of long-suffering martyrdom. He grumbled something in Chinese, and rolled his eyes toward the heavens. “Missee Penlop in room. She say she sick.” He made a derogatory noise. “Hop say she mean-headed only. Been mean-headed all week. She always mean-headed.”

Though Hallie was too discreet to voice her thoughts, she secretly agreed that Penelope had been acting more “mean-headed” than usual. Why, the girl had done so much scowling during the past few days that she'd be lucky if her face wasn't permanently frozen into lines of discontent.

After thanking the houseboy, Hallie headed toward Penelope's room, formulating a plan of action as she went. If Penelope was truly ill, it wouldn't hurt to look in on her. If not, if the girl was indeed sulking, as Hop suspected, then they would have their long overdue talk. With that agenda in mind, Hallie knocked at her sister-in-law's bedroom door.

“What?” was the muffled response.

“Hop said you were feeling ill,” Hallie half shouted through the door. “I thought I might be able to help.”

There was a long silence before Penelope finally replied, “I'm fine. Go away and leave me alone.” Even through two inches of solid wood the annoyance in the girl's voice was unmistakable.

Hallie smiled to herself. Aha! So Hop had been right. Penelope was indulging in one of her sulks again. That being the case …

“No. I won't go away. It's time we had a talk.”

Hallie thought she detected the sound of a snort, but given the thickness of the door, she couldn't be certain. However, Penelope's next words were audible enough.

“I don't have anything to say to you … now or ever!”

“Well, I have plenty to say to you, and whether you like it or not, you're going to listen. You have five seconds to prepare yourself before I come in. One.”

In a loud voice, Hallie announced each number. On the count of five, she pushed the door open.

Decorated in shades of pale blue and salmon pink, Penelope's bedroom was a young lady's dream come true. On the floor lay a rug loomed in a fanciful pattern of vines, flowers, and fruit. The walls were papered in blue, pink, and white stripes. Against one wall stood a mirrored armoire, its doors slightly ajar to reveal the girl's opulent wardrobe. Opposite the armoire was a marble-topped dressing table, the surface cluttered with perfume bottles and silver-handled brushes.

In the center of the room stood a mahogany canopied bed daintily carved in a rococo design and accented with gold leaf. Huddled into a ball beneath the embroidered brocade coverlet was Penelope. Hallie paused a few feet from the bed, taken aback by her sister-in-law's haggard appearance.

Half-hidden beneath her sweat-dampened tangle of ebony hair, the girl's face was pasty white and pinched with pain. Faint grayish-purple shadows ringed her glittering green eyes, and her lips, normally tinted a dusky pink and curled downward into a pout, were drawn into a tight, colorless line.

If this was Penelope's idea of “fine,” Hallie thought, she would hate to see what the girl considered “ill.” As to what was wrong? Hallie sighed inwardly and advanced toward the bed. The trick was going to be getting the patient to confide in her.

At Hallie's approach, the trembling figure on the bed shrank further beneath the coverlet. Fixing her unwelcome guest with a belligerent glower, she hissed, “What do you want?”

Assuming her most reassuring manner, Hallie replied, “You're obviously ill, and I'd like to help you if you'll let me.”

Emitting a classic Parrish family snort, Penelope flopped over onto her side and presented her would-be savior with her back. Here she was, suffering from the worse case of monthly cramps she'd had in ages, and her brother's gold-digging wife insisted on playing nursemaid.

She groaned softly and flinched as a sudden pain radiated through her belly and down her thighs. Why couldn't this Dr. Gardiner person mind her own business and just leave her to suffer in peace? It wasn't as if the blasted woman really cared anything about her … or Jake. Curling back into a ball, she miserably pressed her thighs against her throbbing abdomen. Perhaps if she ignored the woman, she would give up her pretense of being a good Samaritan and go away.

But Hallie wasn't about to go anywhere. She hadn't missed Penelope's stifled moan, nor had she missed the way the girl had flinched with pain. Concerned, she sat on the edge of the bed and studied the tense form beneath the covers. After a moment's hesitation, she gently laid her hand on Penelope's shoulder. “If you're ill—”

“I told you, I'm fine!” Penelope snapped, jerking away from Hallie's touch. “I just want to be left alone.”

Hallie almost smiled at the girl's response. How often had she heard Jake utter those very words? Stubbornness was definitely a Parrish family trait.

Using the same no-nonsense tone she had often used with Jake early in their acquaintance, she said, “As a doctor, I've taken an oath to help those in need. To leave you alone when you're obviously in need of care would be to break that oath. And since I never break my word, I guess I'll just have to stay by your side until you allow me to help you.”

Penelope's only response was another snort.

This time Hallie did smile. The girl was a Parrish through and through. That being the case, it could be a long while before she finally unbent enough to accept help. With that possibility in mind, Hallie leaned back against the headboard and made herself comfortable.

The two women remained like that for a quarter of an hour: Penelope alternately feeling sorry for herself and wishing all sorts of hideous fates to befall Hallie, and Hallie grappling for the best way to break through Penelope's defensive wall.

It was Penelope who finally broke the deadlock of silence. Rolling over onto her stomach and propping her head up on her hands she glared at Hallie through the veil of her hair. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded in an accusatory tone.

Hallie let her serene gaze meet Penelope's hostile one. “I already told you why. It's because I'm a doctor, and it's a doctor's job to tend sick people.”

“Is it also a doctor's job to force attention on people who don't want help?”

Hallie shrugged. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On the identity of the patient. If the patient refusing my aid is a complete stranger, then I'm obligated to honor her wishes and pray for the best. However, when the patient happens to be the sister of the man I love, well, then it's my duty to render aid … no matter how stubborn or unwilling that sister might be.”

Penelope's beautiful green eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And when you decide that you no longer love Jake, will you still consider it your duty to tend me when I'm ill?” Restlessly she twisted a long strand of sable hair around her finger. “Or will you pretend that I no longer exist, like Serena did?”

Hallie stared down at Penelope, her eyes widening with sudden understanding. How could she have been so blind? Why hadn't she guessed that like Jake, Penelope too had been scarred by Serena's betrayal? Why hadn't she realized that the girl's wretched behavior was simply a ruse to hide her pain and fear?

Looking at her sister-in-law now, garbed in only a simple cotton nightgown, with her hair unbound, Hallie remembered something she often tended to forget: Penelope was little more than a child. She was only eighteen … barely out of the schoolroom. And yet, for all her youth, she had seen more tragedy than most people saw in a lifetime. No wonder the poor child was so unhappy and distrustful.

Suddenly overwhelmed with tenderness, Hallie sought to reassure the girl. Tilting her head to one side, her lips curved into a gentle smile, she replied, “I'll never stop loving Jake. He's more dear to me than life itself.”

Penelope shifted her gaze from Hallie's face and stared at the sable-colored curl coiled around her index finger. “Serena claimed that she loved him, too. But she didn't … not really. If she had truly loved him, she never would have treated him so horribly.”

Hallie shook her head. “I know it's hard to understand why—”

But before she could finish her explanation, Penelope cut her off. “It's her fault he went to war!” she accused wildly, her face contorting with sudden rage. “It's her fault he was wounded! She drove him away with her hatefulness.”

Tears escaped the corners of Penelope's eyes, and her voice faded until it was little more than a pain-filled whisper. When she glanced back up at Hallie, her eyes were brilliant from emotion. “How she laughed when she got Seth's telegram informing her of Jake's injuries. She said she hoped he would die. I hated her then.” With a soul-shattering sob, she began to weep in earnest.

Hallie's heart went out to the girl. She knew from her own wretched childhood experience how devastating it was to live in a household torn apart by marital strife. She knew how examples set in the home molded and influenced a child's perception of the world. Most important, she knew how those examples, good or bad, could affect the rest of a child's life.