A Veiled Reflection (15 page)

Mac shook his head and reached his hand out to cover her mouth. “I'm not mad,” he said simply. “I've just been busy.”

He took his hand away from her mouth, but his touch caused Jillian to feel quivery inside. Her stomach did flips, and she thought she might actually need to sit down.

“I just felt bad about it,” she finally managed to say.

He grinned, his expression suddenly turning very mischievous. “It was actually one of my more memorable and pleasant dining experiences.” She felt her cheeks grow hot and stammered for something to say.

She didn't need to worry about it, however, as the rumbling and creaking of Mary Barnes' wagon interrupted their moment.

She waved to Mac and Jillian, then pulled Clarence and Dobbin up rather abruptly. Pushing her sunbonnet back, she called down,

“Mac, Little Sister is sick. She's running a fever and vomiting. I haven't been able to help her, and I'm afraid for her. I wondered if you'd take a look at her?”

Mac nodded. “Let me get some things together. Oh, and I'll have to change my clothes and saddle the horse, but I'll be quick.”

Mary nodded. “Hello, Judith. How's life at the Harvey House?”

“Same as usual,” Jillian said, moving to stand beside the wagon.

Mary wrapped the reins around the brake handle and climbed down. “I'm afraid Little Sister is quite ill,” she said, her tone grave. “I'm not even sure she's going to make it.”

Jillian felt overwhelmed by memories of her grandmother's death. She could still see the pasty complexion and hollow look in her eyes. Death had engulfed the house as her grandmother waited for it to finally settle upon her, and Jillian couldn't bear the memory.

“I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do.” Even as she said the words, Jillian knew that wasn't really the truth. She had no desire to help at Little Sister's bedside.

“You can pray,” Mary told her quite seriously.

“I'm afraid I wouldn't know a great deal about that,” Jillian admitted. “I've never done much of it. I've heard preachers do it, but I'm not at all comfortable trying it for myself in any length, much less for someone else. What if I said the wrong thing? What if I couldn't think of anything to say at all?”
And what if God won't listen to me because of
my lies?
she thought to herself but remained silent.

Mary looked at her for a moment, then patted her arm. Her wrinkled expression was as gentle as her voice. “You just talk to God like you would your own pa.”

Jillian laughed. “No one talks to Colin Danvers. They listen. My father is the one to do the talking and dictating.”

“Well, God isn't like that. He listens. He cares about what we have to say. It's all there in the Bible. Many a time folks had to call out to Him. You should read up on it and see for yourself. The Psalms are full of prayers.”

Jillian shook her head and looked away. “I'm afraid I don't have a Bible.”

“No Bible? Well, then, I'll just have to be lending you mine,” Mary replied.

“No, I couldn't do that,” Jillian said quite seriously. “I'll talk to Reverend Lister about one or I'll write home to have my mother send me one, but I couldn't take yours.”

Mary smiled. “I have another. Besides, you've been such a dear sweet girl and so helpful. I'd be proud to have you use it.”

“Perhaps I could just borrow it for a short time,” Jillian suggested.

“Just until I get one of my own.”

Mary nodded. “I'll send it back with Mac.”

“What should I do with it? I mean, I know you say to read it and see the prayers and such, but Mary, I've never read the Bible before. I'm not sure I know how.”

Mary gave her a hug. “Oh, Judith, you're such a dear. It's just like Reverend Lister says on Sunday. By gettin' better acquainted with God's Word, you get better acquainted with God himself. Why don't you start in the Gospel of John. Now, mind you, all the books are good, but John has a way of putting Jesus into flesh and blood, while keeping Him all holy. Read some of the Psalms as well.”

Jillian nodded, but her conscience sorely bothered her. Mary was helping her to learn more about God—how could Jillian go on deceiving her? She glanced around her, and seeing that Mac was still nowhere in sight, Jillian determined to set things right.

“Mary, there's something I need to tell you.”

The older woman stepped back and studied her. “It's something weighin' heavy on your heart, eh?”

Jillian nodded. “Very.” She didn't bother to tell Mary that it was only one of many things, but instead she struggled for words to make her confession. “I've misled you, and I'm sorry.”

“However have you done this?” the woman questioned.

“I'm not Judith. My sister—my twin sister—is Judith. I'm Jillian Danvers.” Mary looked at her and her expression made it clear she didn't understand anything about this deception.

Jillian sighed. “My sister needed me to come here in her place so that she could marry the man she loved. She didn't want to cancel out her contract with Mr. Harvey, but neither did she want to wait until her contract was up in order to marry. I know it sounds rather silly, but at the time Judith made it seem like a necessary crusade.”

Mary nodded. “Sisters have a way of talkin' you into matters. I have a sister myself. She was forever getting me in trouble.” She smiled and reached out her hand. “I'm glad you told me the truth, Jillian. It means a lot to me that you'd trust me with your secret. However, I'd advise you to just come clean with Miss Carson and the rest of the town. Maybe if they know the situation, they won't mind keeping you on.”

Jillian shook her head. “I don't know if that would be wise or not. After all, if Judith is made to pay the back wages, she'll be in grave trouble.”

“Pray about it, Jillian. Lies only breed more lies, and all of it leads to destruction.”

Just then Mac came around the house leading his sorrel gelding. “I'm ready, Mary,” he said, tossing fat saddlebags over the back of the horse. He quickly tied them securely, then mounted.

Mary climbed back up in the wagon and took up the reins. “Remember what I said,” she told Jillian, then flicked the reins and maneuvered the mules in a circle to head back to her desert house.

Mac smiled, tipped his felt hat to Jillian, and followed after the older woman. Jillian walked back to the Harvey House in silence. Mary had asked her to pray, but in truth, she didn't know what to say. She had said all sorts of little, rather insignificant prayers, but this was different. This was a prayer to save a life. To see a dying mother through the birth of her child. How should she pray?

Oh, God, you know I'm not a religious person. I don't know much about
these matters, but Mary said you would understand. Please comfort Little Sister.
And give Mac the ability to help her through this.

Mac urged his horse forward, leaving Mary to follow after him. He could beat her to the house in half the time, and given Little Sister's symptoms of fever and vomiting, he figured they had little time to waste.

But even with Little Sister uppermost in his thoughts, it was Jillian who crowded in to consume his heart. How could he have been so foolish? He knew better than to allow such emotions and distractions. Hadn't he stayed in this territory for that very reason?

A rattlesnake slithered off to find the shelter of a rock as Mac urged his horse into a dry wash. What was happening to him? Why couldn't he just keep Jillian in the role of a friend? He hadn't had any problem keeping Judith in that position, so why should Jillian be any different?

A distant memory crowded into Mac's mind. He could see her. Almost hear her. Shaking his head, he forced the image away. There was no room for her in his life now. He was different . . . and she was gone.

Still, he could see her smiling face and hear her laugh. She had worn her blond hair very similarly to Jillian Danvers. She had been pretty and sophisticated and everything that a lady of society should be.

He felt a familiar tightening in his chest. A guilt of sorts, a sorrow blended with regret and a touch of bitterness. He had loved her, and she had betrayed his heart. Why should Jillian be any different?

“God help me,” he muttered, lightly kicking the horse's side. “Help me to put everything back in its proper place—including my heart.”

TEN

MAC FOUND THE DAYS AHEAD weighted with concern for the young Navajo woman. He had made at least a dozen trips back and forth in as many days, always wondering what more he could possibly do to help Little Sister. Somehow she clung to life physically, but emotionally she was already gone. Mac had tried to talk to her about regaining her strength, but she held no interest. Her family had shunned her, her people had turned their backs on her, and because of this, she had lost the will to live.

Mary stewed and fretted, beside herself with grief for the young woman's condition. When Mac finally felt certain that Little Sister would die within the next few days, he broke the news to Mary. She had taken it well, but her initial thought was to find Bear.

“I can't stay here, Mary,” he told her gravely. “I have to get back to town and check in on my other patients. And you can't leave Little Sister here alone.”

“Maybe you could bring somebody out with you when you come back,” Mary suggested. “Maybe Jillian would come.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Who?”

“Jillian. She told me all about her little deception. I suggested she come clean on the matter, but that's no nevermind. Why don't you seek her out and see if by chance she could come here in the next day or so? I should be able to make it to the village and back within a matter of hours, and if Bear isn't off tendin' to business elsewhere, it should be easy enough to find him.”

“What if you can't convince him to come?”

Mary shrugged. “I don't know, Mac. I suppose I'll just cross that bridge when I get to it.”

Mac packed his saddlebags and headed for the door. Once outside, he glanced upward at the blackening sky. “Maybe we'll get rain from this one.”

Mary shook her head. “I wouldn't count on it. It'll probably blow on over to the east. We could sure use some, though. I'd hate to see us headin' into the summer only to sustain more drought. Bad enough to live where water is so limited, but to have a drought on top of it is sheer misery.”

Mac nodded and mounted his horse. “I'll be back as soon as possible. If no one in town needs me, I might even come back yet tonight and check in on her.”

“Don't forget to see about bringing Jillian.”

“I won't,” he promised.

By the time he'd ridden back to Pintan, a few sprinkles of rain were all that marked the passing of the dark clouds. The drops made strange little indentations in the dry sandy ground, giving it a speckled appearance.

In the west, the sun was already starting to lower. Mac would have to be quick about it if he was to return to Mary's yet that evening. Traveling the desert at night could be most dangerous, and he had no desire to cause his horse to misstep into a hole or meet up with something worse, like a bobcat or mountain lion.

Things looked to be quiet at the Harvey House. The trains had apparently come and gone, taking satisfied dinner crowds farther down the line to their destinations. Mac looked at his dusty clothes and thought it might serve him better to get a bath before checking on any patients or even Jillian's availability to ride with him back to Mary's. Spying Kate McGee on the opposite side of the street, Mac called out to her.

“Miss McGee, I wonder if I might impose upon you?”

Kate looked up and, seeing it was Mac, crossed the road. “And what would ya be needin' with the likes of me, Dr. Mac?”

“I'm wondering if Miss Danvers is available to speak with me. I have a problem, and Mrs. Barnes suggested I seek her out.”

“I can be sendin' her over to yar place,” Kate replied with a grin. “She's ironin' linens right now, but I'm sure she's nigh on to finished. If not, I'm sure she'll be a-hurryin' through when she finds out you've called for her.”

Mac shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it's business.”

“Oh, and for sure it is,” Kate laughed. “I'll be sendin' her over in short order for . . . business.”

Mac nodded in irritation. “That's fine. I'm going to clean up a bit and check on some patients, so there's no hurry.”

Kate headed off to the Harvey House, but her laughter still rang in Mac's ears. Was it so evident to everyone in Pintan that he had feelings for Jillian?

The very idea of having feelings for anyone created a tug-of-war in Mac's heart. He enjoyed Jillian's friendship and found her intelligence and interest in things around her to be refreshing, but she was, after all, a woman. A very attractive woman. A woman with a background of luxury and wealth, and one who intended to go back into that setting once she'd fulfilled her sister's contract.

He thought of the fact that she'd opened her identity up to Mary's scrutiny. He knew the older woman would have advised Jillian to be completely honest with those around her, but he also understood Jillian's dilemma. It seemed rather harmless that she should lie about being Judith. Judith's tasks were still being taken care of, and it wasn't as if the deception was really hurting anyone. Or was it?

He sighed and clucked at the horse as he pulled him around back of the house. Why did she have to mean so much to him in such a short time? Was it the familiarity of Judith that had allowed him to settle easily into a friendship with Jillian? He smiled at the thought of her seeing herself nothing like her sister.
They are more alike than she
can see,
he thought. Still, he'd never desired to hold Judith in his arms—to kiss her lips.