janet dailey- the healing touch (4 page)

Handing out the blue ribbons was the high point of her year.

She arrived at the fair early on Saturday morning and stood in the center of the hustling, bustling activity, soaking in the unique ambiance. Sheep, cows, pigs and goats protested loudly with grunts, groans and bleats as children herded them down gangways and into their pens. Women scurried from tent to tent, carrying prize flowers, cakes and pies and needlework of all kinds, many bearing ribbons of distinction.

In the Quonset hut, some of the local men displayed their woodworking and leather crafts, miniature train sets, and homegrown vegetables of outrageous proportions.

Seeing dozens of familiar faces, Rebecca greeted almost everyone she met. In a town as small and intimate as San Carlos, most of the citizens knew one another— by reputation, if not by name. The gossip grapevine kept everyone informed.

Just as Rebecca was nearing the livestock area, she spotted a particularly endearing and familiar face. Katie Stafford was clinging to the end of a small, white, leather bridle. At the other end was a transformed Rosebud. The little nanny was decked out with pink ribbons, silver bells and pale blue bows in her tail and around her neck. The goat was behaving quite well—for a goat—as she pranced proudly along behind her mistress.

But most surprising of all, Rebecca saw Michael Stafford walking beside
his daughter and her pet, look
ing almost as proud as they did. Wearing a broad, carefree smile, he appeared more relaxed and at peace with himself than Rebecca had ever seen him.

"Hey, Dr. Rebecca! Doctor, over here!" Katie shouted across the way as she bounced up and down and waved her free arm enthusiastically. She turned to her father. "Look, Daddy, over there! It's Dr. Rebecca!"

"So it is," Michael said. He gave Rebecca a dazzling smile that nearly stopped her heart. "How are you today, Doctor?"

"Ah...fine, thank you," Rebecca replied, feeling suddenly, inexplicably, shy and awkward.

"See what we won!" Katie said as she held up a bright red ribbon and waved it under Rebecca's nose. "See! See! Rosie won second place!"

"A red ribbon! Good for you, Katie." Rebecca leaned down and scratched the top of the nanny's head. Many animals seemed to be embarrassed when their masters and mistresses "dressed them up" in ribbons and fluff. But Rosie appeared to love being the center of attention. "You deserve a red ribbon," she told Katie. "Rosebud looks beautiful today! You did a wonderful job of grooming her."

"Daddy helped." Katie beamed up at her father. "She wouldn't hold still when I was giving her a bath. So he helped me chase her around. She got more water and soap on us than we did on her. But it was fun."

Rebecca turned to Michael and their eyes met over the top of Katie's head.

For a moment he seemed embarrassed, then he shrugged. "A red ribbon isn't too bad," he said with a silly half grin, "for a mangy runt. Huh, Doc?"

"Not bad at all," Rebecca replied.

Michael looked down at Katie and patted her shoulder. "Why don't you and Rosebud go on ahead without me," he said. "I want to talk to Dr. Barclay for a minute. I'll be right there."

Katie looked from her father to Rebecca and back. A smirk played across her face. "Sure, Dad. No problem," she said knowingly.

As soon as Katie and the goat were gone, Michael seemed even more nervous than before.

"I...ah..." he began. He paused to clear his throat.

She leaned closer to him. "Yes, Mr. Stafford?"

"I wanted to thank you for what you said the other day," he blurted, as though afraid to lose his momentum and courage. "I don't mind telling you, I was furious with you then. But I thought about it, and I decided you were right. I have been neglecting Katie."

He drew a deep breath, and Rebecca could see the pain in his eyes. This man was no coward, but he had been deeply hurt. That much was obvious, in his face, his voice, even his body language. Usually, he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, as though guarding his heart.

It was ineffectual armor, Rebecca knew. Unfortunately, there was no way to shield the soul from life's cruelest arrows. She remembered Tim and how she had felt the first year after he died. Yes, she knew all about

having your heart pierced when you least expected it. A wound like that took a long, long time to heal, if it ever totally did.

"I was married once," she said, "and I lost my husband, too. I've felt some of what you're going through, and I know it's a really tough time for you."

"Yes, it is. But that doesn't excuse the way I acted about the little goat" He stared down at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. "I don't know why I said what I did and..."

His voice trailed away, and Rebecca could see the depth of his guilt on his handsome face. Who would have thought that a face that looked so strong could reflect so much doubt? So much self-condemnation?

"I was afraid for Katie," he admitted, "because I truly thought the goat was unhealthy. I didn't want her to lose something else she loved...not so soon after..." He paused to gather the rest of his thoughts. "I know I overreacted, but the poor kid has already lost so much."

"I understand." Rebecca stood there, wondering if she should say what was on her mind. She would risk making him angry again, but she felt she should be honest with him.

"Mr. Stafford," she said. "I don't claim to know everything you're feeling, everything you've experienced. But if you overreacted, I think if s only because you love your daughter so much."

"Yes, I do," he said. "And her mother's death was very hard for her."

Rebecca nodded. "I know you're afraid of her suffering another loss, and you don't want her to love something else that could die."

"That's true," he said, obviously touched that she understood. "Living things are just so.. .so.. .fragile."

"I know they are. Believe me, in my line of work I know that all too well. But Katie can't close her heart, not even to protect it. She has far too much love to give. And so do you," she added quietly.

He said nothing, but stared down at the sawdust on the ground.

She continued, "To love a living being is to risk getting hurt, because we all die, sooner or later. But there is one thing that's worse than losing someone you love. It's not having anyone to love in the first place."

She couldn't tell how her words had affected him, because he continued to look down at the toes of his boots.

"I know you're afraid to feel your love for Katie," she ventured, knowing she was going too far. But if she was going to upset him, she might as well go all the way. "You know, Michael, there are lots of ways to lose someone... besides death, that is. We can lose someone we love, even though we see them every day...if we allow our fear to get in the way."

He cleared his throat and nodded curtly. "Yes. Of course you're right, Dr. Barclay. But I have to get going. Katie needs help loading Rosebud into the trailer."

Before she could reply, he was gone.

"Way to go, Rebecca," she muttered. "You sure have a great way with people. The true gift of gab. Maybe, in the future, you'd better confine your conversation to fuzzy
faced critters who can't talk."

Chapter Three

"Would you like another cup of tea, dear?" Bridget took the cobalt blue china teapot from under its knitted cozy and offered it to Rebecca. "Why don't you finish this one off and I'll brew another."

The offer was too tempting to resist. Bridget made the finest cup of tea in town—claimed it was a special County Kerry blend—and Rebecca had managed only three hours of sleep the night before. A little caffeine was exactly what she needed to get her over the midaf- temoon slump, and sipping tea here in Bridget's homey kitchen was a great way to infuse.

Besides, Rebecca had never been able to deny Bridget anything. Something about those bright green eyes, the translucent skin and the open, friendly smile made her irresistible. Twenty years ago, when Rebecca first met her, Bridget had been young and beautiful. In spite of the passage of two decades, she was still youthful in spirit and more beautiful than ever.

"Oh, okay," Rebecca said, twisting her own arm behind her back. "If I must, I must."

Bridget placed a plate, which was covered with an ornate silver lid, in the middle of the table. With elegance and flourish, she swept the lid aside, revealing a dozen or so of her
famous queen cakes. Rebecca re
membered the first time she had ever eaten this particular delicacy. She had been ten years old, visiting the Flores girls, and Bridget had treated them all to a formal afternoon tea.

Dressed in old-fashioned clothes garnered from the attic trunks, the six girls had glided into the dining room, nearly falling off their oversize high heels, tripping on the long hems, dripping with costume jewelry. On their heads they wore an assortment of wide- brimmed bonnets, sporting plumed feathers, silk flowers, satin ribbons and, in Rebecca's case, a rhinestone brooch.

Apparently, Bridget was remembering too. She wiped her hands on her snowy apron, sat across the table from Rebecca and helped herself to the plate of goodies. "You girls always loved my queen cakes," she said. "You were so cute all decked out in those fine old clothes. I miss havin' you around."

"But now you have Katie." Rebecca bit into the cake, which looked like a simple cupcake without frosting, but tasted divine. One bite and you could tell that Bridget didn't spare the butter, fresh eggs or cream. Rebecca tried not to think about the fact that she could almost hear her arteries hardening with every swallow.

"Yes, I have little Katie, and a darlin' child she is, too," Bridget said, a smile softening the lines that had begun to develop around her eyes and mouth. "Have you ever seen eyes so blue...outside of ol' Ireland, that is?"

"No, I haven't. Her eyes are a beautiful color, but I see a lot of sadness in them, too."

Bridget nodded and took a sip of her tea. "Aye, 'tis true. She still grieves so for that dear mother of hers— may she rest in the arms of the angels," she added, crossing herself.

"Did you know Mrs. Stafford?" Rebecca felt a bit guilty for trying to get information out of Bridget. If she wanted to know details, she should probably just ask Michael. But the few encounters she'd had with him had proved that they were neither one particularly good at communicating with the other.

"No, I never laid eyes upon the departed lady," Bridget said, "but I'm sure she must have been a saint, considering the love her husband and daughter still have for her."

"Yes, I'm sure." Rebecca felt a tiny stab of jealousy toward the woman for having been adored by such a wonderful child as Katie and a man like...

No, that didn't bear thinking about. She pushed the thoughts aside, feeling horribly guilty for entertaining them even for a moment.

"When does Katie get home from school?" Rebecca asked, glancing up at the cuckoo clock on the wall.

"Any minute now. I'd say your timing was just about right," Bridget said with a knowing grin. "Unless you dropped by to see Mr. Michael. I don't expect to see him for hours yet."

Blushing violently, Rebecca searched her mind for an appropriately adamant denial. Nothing came, so she
found herself stammering like an idiot. "Ah... no... I... I never wanted... I don't even... no!"

"Oh, I see." Bridget raised one eyebrow and patted her every-hair-in-place blond French roll. "You haven't taken a fancy to him then?"

"Certainly not."

"Hmmm... now I would have thought... oh well, never mind."

The squeak and whoosh of school bus brakes outside relieved the tension of the moment, and Rebecca silently blessed its arrival.

"Why, there's the darlin' lass now," Bridget said as they both watched through the kitchen window while Katie climbed down from the bus.

"She doesn't look very happy," Rebecca commented, noting how slowly Katie was walking and how her shoulders slumped.

"No, 'tis a terrible shame." Bridget clucked her tongue and shook her head sadly. "A wee thing like that should have someone to play with after school. I try to give her as much attention as I can, but I have my other duties and..."

"You know," Rebecca said, thinking aloud, "I'm not all that busy this afternoon. Do you think she'd enjoy going down to our old swimming hole? The weather's pretty warm."

"Oh, aye! I'm sure she would. What a lovely idea, dear. She's very fond of you. I know she'd be pleased to spend some time with you."

"Do you think it would be okay with Mr. Stafford?" Rebecca was reluctant to mention his name, for fear of more teasing, but he seemed so definite about certain things. She didn't want to find herself locking
homes
again with him any time soon.

"Well, I don't see why not," Bridget said thoughtfully. "You're a trustworthy adult. And you'll be right here on the property. I think he'd be grateful that you paid attention to her."

The back door opened, and Katie shuffled in. Without looking up, she tossed her books on the counter and placed her Beauty and the Beast lunch pail in the sink.

"Hi, Mrs. Bridget," she said listlessly.

"Welcome home, love," Bridget replied. "Look who's here."

The instant Katie saw Rebecca, she was transformed into a bouncy, animated eight-year-old, a bright smile lighting her face. "Dr. Rebecca!" she shouted, running across the room to the table where Rebecca sat.

For a moment Rebecca thought she was going to receive a hug, but at the last moment, shyness seemed to intervene. Katie stopped abruptly a few feet away and stood with her hands behind her back, awkward but happy.

"Hi, Katie. It's nice to see you again."

Katie blushed and shuffled her scuffed lavender and pink sneakers. Then a look of horror crossed her face. "Oh, no, you're not here because of Rosie, are you? Is she okay? Are Hilda and Pepe all right?"

"The goats are just fine," she said. Reaching out, she placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. "I came to see you."

"Really?" She looked relieved and happy, but a tad dubious.

"Really, really." Rebecca waited as the hint of a frown melted. "But who's Pepe?"

"He's Hilda's other baby...the boy. You know, Rosebud's brother. He's a lot bigger than Rosie. Mr. Neil won't let me play with him. He says Pepe's too rough."

"I'm sure he's right." Rebecca donned a businesslike face. "What I'd like to know is this—do you have plans for the next couple of hours? Because if you don't..."

"Wow, this is really neat!"

Rebecca could tell by the glow on Katie's face and the enthusiasm in her voice that the secret swimming hole was a success.

"The Flores girls and I spent hours here," Rebecca said as she led Katie through the narrow gap between two rocky cliffs toward the natural pool that lay nestled in the tiny arroyo. "On a hot afternoon, it's the perfect place to cool off."