Love Finds You in Groom, Texas (31 page)

See, Anne? He really does care. And he’s showing you more and more with each passing day.
But what could she do about it? Come Monday morning, she would be packed up and headed to Dallas.

A couple of tiny raindrops fell and hit the back of her hand. “Oh no. It’s about to come down.”

“I just want to say something before it does.” Jake squared his shoulders. “I—I—I think you did a wonderful job with the wedding.”

“Thank you.”

“I definitely see this as your talent. You are an organizer. A coordinator.”

“Thank you. I’ve been thinking that when I get to Dallas I can—”

She stopped talking because he stared into her eyes. “Make me a promise.”

“W–what’s that?”

“Don’t say another word about Dallas today, okay? This is the perfect day, and I don’t want to spoil it by thinking about you moving away.”

“All right.” She forced back the lump in her throat.

“There’s so much I need to tell you….” Jake pulled her into his arms. Just then, a clap of thunder sounded overhead. Off in the distance, Kate let out a scream. Anne pulled away from Jake and turned to find her sister running across the church lawn. Seconds later, the rain began to pour in earnest. Looked like whatever Jake had to say would just have to wait for another day.

Not that she had a lot of days left.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Texas Panhandle might not be known for its illustrious hospitals, but we know a thing or two about caring for the sick. Ask anybody’s grandmother or aunt and she can fill you in on the proper home remedies for nearly all types of illness. Struggling with heart-related issues? Eat more garlic. Dealing with a gassy stomach? Brew a tea from fresh dandelion leaf. Feeling dizzy? Try a little ginger. Struggling with joint pain? Try a pinch of Epsom salt. Battling a cough? Enjoy a piece of licorice. Itchy with eczema? Use the juice from inside a local cactus plant. Yep, you might have the illness, but we’ve got the cure. Don’t let what ails keep you from enjoying life in the Panhandle.—“Tex” Morgan, reporting for the Panhandle Primer

On Sunday morning, Anne awoke to a flurry of activity outside her bedroom door. She put on her robe and opened the door to find Maggie rushing down the hallway, her red hair looking wilder than ever.

“It’s Emily,” Maggie said. “I’ve put in a call to the doctor. She’s very ill.”

“Ill?” Anne’s heart began to race. “But just yesterday she was fine. I can’t imagine what happened.”

“Maybe something she ate?” Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know. I just know that she’s crying out in pain. I’ve never seen a child in this much anguish.”

“Heavens.” Anne raced down the hallway and opened the door to Emily’s room. She found both of her sisters in the bed, with Kate leaning over Emily. Anne sat on the bed and stared at her sister, who was doubled over.

“Emily. What’s happened? Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” Emily let out a horrible groaning sound. “Oh, Anne, I’m so sick.” She flung her right arm over her head and fell back against the pillows.

Anne reached down and rested her palm against Emily’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. What are your symptoms?”

“My head is aching, and my chest hurts.” Emily began to cough then caught her breath. “Oh, do you see what I mean? Can you call for the doctor?”

“Maggie’s already done that. He’s on his way.”

Kate looked on, her eyes growing wide at that pronouncement.

“I’m too sick to go anywhere,” Emily said. “I don’t believe I can be moved for days. Maybe weeks.”

“Mm-hmm.” Anne’s suspicions kicked in. “Tell me more.”

“I think she has dysmantery,” Kate said.

“Do you mean dysentery?”

“Yes, dysentery,” Kate said with a nod. “That’s it.”

“I believe dysentery presents with far different symptoms.” Anne spoke in her most serious voice. “But I shall wait for the doctor to decide. After he bleeds her out, we will know more.”

“B–bleeds me out?” Emily sat up. “Is that really necessary?”

“Perhaps not.” Anne shook her head. “He might be persuaded to operate straightaway.”

“O–operate?” Emily paled.

“Strange that dysentery would present with symptoms in the chest and throat, though.” Anne did her best to hold her voice steady. “Usually it affects a far more…remote region of the body.”

“I see.” Emily sat up in the bed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I feel a bit woozy, sister. And my throat is…” She coughed again. “Quite terrible. I’m in so much pain. Perhaps it isn’t dysentery after all. I believe I must have scarlet fever.”

“Ooh, scarlet fever.” Anne nodded. “Now that diagnosis makes far more sense. I once read about a character who had scarlet fever.”

“Oh?” Emily’s expression brightened.

“Yes, she didn’t last more than a few weeks.” Anne tucked the covers around her younger sister, keeping her expression serious. “And it’s quite contagious, so I suppose we’ll have to keep Kate from seeing you. Come now, Kate. You’ll have to say good-bye to Emily and visit with the adults in the other room.”

“Oh, pooh.” Kate stood on the bed and began to jump. “Why should I do that? She’s not sick anyway.”

Emily grabbed Kate by the hand and pulled her down onto the bed, glaring at her. “Why, of course I am. Remember, Kate? We talked about this earlier. I’m quite ill. Far too ill to travel to Dallas just yet.”

“So that’s it.” Anne pulled back the covers, revealing Emily fully dressed and wearing shoes. “You’ve come up with a story to keep you from going to Uncle Bertrand’s house. And you think feigning an illness is the way to go?”

Emily rose and straightened her skirts. She put her hand on her hip and stared at Anne. “Don’t tell me you want to go with him, Anne.”

“I’m not saying that. I just don’t see that we have much choice.”

“Oh, but don’t you see?” Emily sat on the edge of the bed, and tears rose to cover her lashes. “I feel like we’ve been given a second chance at life here. It’s like we’re in heaven. And if we have to go to Uncle Bertrand’s, we’ll leave heaven and go to—”

Kate’s eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her sister’s mouth. “Don’t say it on a Sunday, Emily.”

“Anyway, we’ll go to a horrible place with weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.” Emily’s gaze narrowed. “A place of eternal torture and punishment…and all for a crime we did not commit.”

“I daresay you’ve committed a crime or two just since I arrived in the room.” Anne sat next to her sister and took her hand. “Though I believe a jury might find you innocent, under the circumstances.”

“Any juror worth his weight in salt would find Uncle Bertrand guilty.” Emily put her hands on her hips again.

“Of what?” Anne gave her sister a pensive look. “He’s just come to give us a ride back to Dallas. That doesn’t make him evil. It just makes him…” She couldn’t think of how to finish the sentence, so she left it hanging in the air.

“Did I hear someone say my name?”

Anne looked toward the door, stunned to find Uncle Bertrand standing there.

Anne’s heart flew into her throat. “Oh, I, well, we…” She shrugged.

“Emily, are you ill? Maggie is quite concerned.” He drew near and touched her forehead with his palm. Emily flinched at his touch but eventually rested her head against the pillow and feigned illness. Her eyes fluttered closed.

“I’ve sent for the doctor,” Maggie said, entering the room in a flurry.

“I’ll fetch him myself,” Uncle Bertrand said. “It won’t take me long to get to town in the car.”

“No!” Emily sat straight up in bed. “I’m feeling much better, thank you. It’s like a miracle, really. Thank you all for praying.”

“We never had time to pray, you little tyrant.” Anne groaned then looked at her uncle. “You see what you’re getting, don’t you? She’s skilled at storytelling.”

“I suspected as much.” Uncle Bertrand grinned.

“What gave me away?” Emily asked.

“For one thing, you’re fully dressed. If you were genuinely ill, you wouldn’t have had the strength to put your clothes on.”

“Ah. Good point.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll have to remember that next time.”

He nodded. “I, for one, am glad you’re well. I stopped by to give you girls a ride to church. Thought you might like to arrive in style in the Cadillac.”

“Oh, yes, please!”

Maggie looked back and forth between them, clearly confused. “I guess I should call the doctor back and tell him not to come?”

“That’s right.” Uncle Bertrand nodded. “Tell him the little minx—er, patient—had a remarkable recovery. He would be better served caring for the real patients.”

Maggie nodded and disappeared into the hallway. Seconds later her voice came back, “Breakfast will be served in fifteen minutes. It’s our last Sunday morning together, so I’d like to see everyone at the table.”

At once, Kate began to cry.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Anne asked, sitting next to her on the bed.

“Oh, Anne, she’s right. It’s our last Sunday here ever. And I was just starting to get used to it.”

Anne’s heart grew as heavy as lead. She gazed up at Uncle Bertrand, who stood in the doorway with lips pursed. He quickly excused himself.

“We’ve got to be strong,” Anne said, “so dry those eyes. Let’s eat some breakfast and enjoy our time with the people we love.”

The people we love.

The words came without her even thinking them through. But they were true. Wholly and completely true. She loved these people—every last one of them. And leaving them tomorrow would likely be one more thing in a long line of very difficult things she’d had to do over the past few years.

Still, what choice did she have?

With new resolve, Anne headed off to her room to get ready for the day.

Jake enjoyed every minute of sitting next to Anne in church. He tried not to think about the fact that she would be leaving tomorrow, but those niggling thoughts tormented him despite his best attempts.

When the service ended, her uncle offered them a ride in the Cadillac. Jake took him up on the offer, passing off the family truck to Jeremiah to drive home. Though the others in the vehicle laughed and chatted, he could not. In fact, he felt downright ill. It wasn’t a pretend illness, like the one Emily had feigned. No, this was the real deal.

He somehow got through lunch, though he barely touched his food. Afterward, when Anne slipped off to help the girls pack their luggage, he paced the parlor.

His mother approached from behind. “Jake, I don’t mean this the way it’s probably going to sound, but you look awful.”

He turned to face her but couldn’t seem to respond.

“Are you ill?”

He shook his head. For a moment, anyway. Then he decided to be honest and offer up a nod. “I think I am.”

“It’s been a long week. You’re probably exhausted. Or maybe you’re suffering from allergies. Remember that time you sneezed for a week after eating peanuts?”

“It’s not a physical sickness,” he said. “I’m…heartsick.”

“Ah.” His mother drew near and touched his arm. “Because Anne is leaving tomorrow?”

He nodded, doing his best to swallow the giant lump in his throat. It wouldn’t budge.

“If you want her to stay, you have to tell her.”

“It just seems so complicated. There are more lives involved here than just hers and mine. And besides…” He took a few steps toward the door and then turned back with a sigh. “I’m not good at telling people what I’m thinking. I get tongue-tied.”

“Pooh. I see you talking to that mare of yours all the time.”

“Well, that’s different. She doesn’t judge me. Or poke fun at me. And she certainly never twists my words around.”

“Tell you what, Jake. You go on out there and pretend you’re talking to the woman you love.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tell it to Frances.”

“You want me to tell my horse that I love her?”

“We all know you love Frances. I’m just saying you might feel better if you take a practice run by acting like she’s Anne. Say what’s on your heart. Rehearse. There’s nothing wrong with that. Might be just the thing to get you over the hurdle. So go on now.”

Jake shook his head, understanding how ridiculous that idea sounded and yet how likely his mother was to be right.