Read Leave a Candle Burning Online
Authors: Lori Wick
Tags: #Christian Fiction, #Widowers, #Christian, #Physicians, #ebook, #General, #Romance, #Massachusetts, #Fiction, #Religious, #Love Stories
“Did you get that handle?” Iris Stafford asked Scottie Peterson when she arrived home.
“I did. Doyle put the rake together.”
Scottie showed the tool to Iris, who nodded her approval. Anyone watching them would never guess that Scottie was the mistress of the house and Iris her cook. Iris was well old enough to be Scottie’s mother and had been looking after her long enough to take such liberties.
“Eli’s been asking after you,” Iris informed her.
“I’ll go right up.”
Scottie moved from the kitchen to the open stairway that led out of the spacious parlor. She moved along the upstairs hallway and slipped into the first door on the left.
“Hello,” she greeted the two men inside, Eli in the bed, and his man, Finn, standing by the window.
“How did it go in town?” Eli asked as Finn, always willing to fade into the background, quietly made his way from the room, closing the door behind him.
“Fine. I got that new rake handle.”
“And dress material?” Eli questioned. “You picked out something for your new dresses?”
By now Scottie had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. Her brow creased before she answered.
“I don’t think I need new dresses, Eli.”
Just watching her, Eli began to smile. He knew she would have a proper argument for her side, and he looked forward to hearing it.
“When did you realize this?”
“As I walked into town,” Scottie informed him. “I had several new dresses made when we were married.”
“Scottie,” her husband said patiently, “that was five years ago.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she argued without heat, her brow creasing again.
“It was,” he insisted, still patient. “Five years next month.”
“How could it be that long?”
Eli didn’t comment, but his smile grew.
“I’m being laughed at.”
“Just a little,” he admitted as he reached for her hand. “How many years did you think it had been?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” she confessed, her eyes on nothing, wondering where the time had gone.
Eli reached up and gently stroked the creases on her forehead until she relaxed. He did that whenever he thought she might be worrying. This time it reminded Scottie of the man and the rake handle. She suddenly sat up straight and told her husband about the incident.
“He bled?” Eli clarified when she was finished.
“Yes. I wanted to do something, but he said he was all right.”
Eli’s eyes had rounded a bit, but Scottie knew she was not in trouble. Eli was rarely upset with anyone, and never with her. Nevertheless, the man’s injury lingered in her mind.
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know,” Scottie admitted. “I think I’ve seen him at the meetinghouse, but I don’t know him.”
“You didn’t think to ask Doyle?”
“No.”
The couple was silent for a moment.
“But you think he was all right?” Eli questioned.
“He said he was, but it might have been all politeness.”
Eli nodded thoughtfully, knowing his wife had that effect on some men. “I can tell Finn, and he can keep an ear out. I’m not sure we can do anything else.”
“Maybe I’ll see him on Sunday,” Scottie added as the realization struck her.
Eli agreed that she might, but just moments later his mind was on something else. He asked Scottie to bring the account books. He had some numbers he wanted to go over with her.
Dannan slipped into the workroom at his house—the one where he mixed medications and worked on experiments—long enough to check the cut on his head. It wasn’t overly deep, but the skin was tender. He cleaned it up, making sure the bleeding had stopped, before heading out to ready his rig. He wanted to check on Cathy Shephard’s arm before another thing interrupted him.
In the kitchen at the Peterson house, Finn sat at the worktable sipping the tea Iris had made him. A newspaper was open in front of him, but it wasn’t long before Iris needed the space to roll out crust, and Finn was forced to shift to one corner.
“Anything new?” Iris asked after a few minutes of quiet.
“I think the Corgiat house is for sale.”
“By the bank?”
“It would seem. Did he have debt?”
“I doubt it,” Iris answered but then gave a small grunt. “But then no one thought old man Zantow had debt either, and none of us will soon forget that debacle.”
Finn huffed a little himself at the point. It was an incident from the past that had long been resolved, but memories in Tucker Mills could be longer.
Both stopped talking when they heard Scottie on the stairs. They didn’t fear reprimand, but if she was coming downstairs already, she probably needed one of them.
“Finn,” Scottie wasted no time in saying, “Eli can’t get into position to take a deep breath. Can you shift him around?”
“I’ll go right up,” the man offered and left the table immediately.
“Is he hurting?” Iris wished to know. “Does tea or broth sound good?”
“He’s not hurting, but tea sounds nice. Thank you, Iris.”
Scottie left her to it and returned to her husband’s side. She told herself it was wrong to worry or fear, but she was doing a lousy job listening.
“Come in, Dannan,” Maddie invited the town’s doctor, not surprised to see him.
“Thank you, Maddie. This basket is from Doyle,” Dannan said, offering the handle to his hostess. “Some things for Cathy,” he added.
Maddie took the basket with a word of thanks and led Dannan to the parlor, where Cathy was sitting in the rocking chair. Valerie had fallen asleep and was in the cradle in the corner.
“Dannan’s here,” Maddie announced quietly, seeing the thundercloud on her aunt’s face.
“How are you, Mrs. Shephard?”
“Tired of sitting!” Cathy all but snapped, but she softened when she saw Dannan’s smile. “It aches, but I’m keeping still.”
“You’ll be glad of that,” Dannan gave his approval. “I saw Doyle this morning,” he continued conversationally, checking the splint and rewrapping it with a careful touch. “He seems to be faring well.”
“Probably living off the cookie jar,” Cathy grumbled.
“I think he said he had cake and pie for breakfast,” Dannan replied, catching Cathy by surprise. She laughed when she saw the glint in his eye.
“Oh, go on with you,” she said, swatting at him with her good arm.
Beyond telling her that all looked well and she was doing a good job, Dannan didn’t comment further.
“Job?” Cathy was outraged over the word. “I’ve not done a thing!”
“Right now, that’s your job,” Dannan continued calmly. As he was in the process of putting his hat back on, Maddie invited him for a cup of tea. Dannan accepted, and a short time later, the three sat around the table in the parlor, tea and freshly baked scones before them.
“Do you cook for yourself, Dannan?” Cathy asked.
“When Conner and Reese Kingsley aren’t taking me in, I do.”
“Reese is a good cook,” Maddie complimented. “I have more than one recipe from her.”
“She is a good cook, but then I would say that about most of the women whose homes I’ve visited in town.”
“Spoken like a hungry man,” Cathy commented, and Dannan laughed.
A small sound from the corner just then brought Maddie to her feet. Dannan hid a smile. It wouldn’t be too many more months before Maddie would allow Valerie to wake on her own, but like most new mothers, she was waiting for any excuse to hold her baby.
Dannan decided not to linger. He didn’t have anything pressing, but a doctor on the outskirts of town—when he didn’t need to be—was no help to the townsfolk. Finishing his tea with a genuine compliment, Dannan took his leave.
Conner sat at the desk chair at the bank, his eyes gazing out the window but not really seeing anything. Troy watched him and waited. Eventually Conner looked at his partner.
“What’s going on?” Troy asked.
“Just thinking,” Conner said, his voice as quiet as ever.
“About?”
Conner hesitated. Troy waited.
“Reese.”
“What about her?”
“Do you think a woman can be that hale and hardy and still die in childbirth?”
Troy sighed. It was an easy question to ask at this point, but the answers were tougher.
“I think any woman can die in childbirth,” Troy said honestly. “But I can’t but wonder whether being as healthy as Reese would help. You might want to ask Dannan what he thinks.”
“I might do that.”
“This is where trust comes in, Conner.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” the younger man agreed before putting his mind back on banking.