Love takes wing (Love Comes Softly #7) (15 page)

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"We . . . we went to school together:' she answered. "His ma was my teacher. She still teaches at our school. Been there for several years now"

Rand's eyes narrowed. "An' he'll be workin' with ya now?" "He's to be Luke's associate," she answered simply.

"How do you feel about thet?" asked Rand.

Belinda frowned slightly. She really wasn't sure, but she answered as truthfully as she could. "Luke has been countin' on it fer some time. He will have more time with his family now. Thet's what he's wanted fer such a long time."

"An' you?" asked Rand.

"I . . . I guess maybe I'll have more time, too," Belinda stammered.

Rand smiled, his expression saying
That's what I have wanted . . . for a long time, too.

He drove for a moment in silence.

"This here doctor . . . he's not married?"

"No-o," answered Belinda.

"Got 'im a girl?"

"I . I wouldn't know. We haven't been in touch fer. . . . fer some time."

Belinda took a quick glance at Rand, and his face seemed rather stiff. She felt very uncomfortable, and she was relieved to see the doctor's residence just ahead.

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FIFTEEN

Confusion

"And how are ya feelin' this mornin'?" Belinda asked Mrs. Stafford-Smyth upon entering her room.

"Oh, it's good to see you!" exclaimed the elderly lady with feeling. "I've missed you all weekend."

"Problems?" questioned Belinda with a frown. She did hope nothing had gone wrong while she had been away.

The woman shook her head and waved a pale hand feebly in the air. "No, nothing . . . nothing specific," she admitted. "Flo does her best and so does that deah Mrs. What's-her-name, but it just isn't the same as when you are heah. They never seem to know. . ."

She went on and Belinda let her talk, much relieved to know that there really was nothing seriously wrong with the woman.

Belinda busied herself checking her patient's temperature and pulse as Mrs. Stafford-Smyth poured out her woes. Without comment about the complaints, Belinda fluffed up the pillows, politely asking, "Would ya like to sit up in a chair fer a few minutes?"

"Oh my, yes," responded the woman. "I am so sick, sick, sick of this bed." Then she hurried on. "You see, that's exactly what I mean. Those . . . those other two. They nevah think of things like that. They just do the 'necessaries. It's as though they don't want to bothah . . . just want to get the day ovah with."

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"I'm sure they don't feel thet way," Belinda assured the elderly lady. "It's jest thet they haven't had much experience in bedside nursing care. Mrs. Mills has nursed neighbors fer years, but most of her time has been helpin' mothers an' newborn babies. Flo is just being trained in nursin'. Luke wants to have a second nurse available so thet one doctor an' one of the nurses might get some time off now and then. He is even talkin' of trainin' a third girl to help jest so she'll have some knowledge if he ever needs to call on someone. Mrs. Mills is gettin' older an' won't want to nurse much longer."

"Well, I think it's a splendid idea to train others. Believe me, I do," insisted Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. "But you must admit that some folks are fah more adept at sensing needs than othah people are. You are one of those few, Belinda. You seem to feel for the patient--to understand the hardness of the bed and the misery of lying day aftah day on one's back."

She hurried on. "I know you need time off. No one can work day and night. But I do hate the days or nights when you are not heah. Things just always go so much--"

"And how is our patient this morning?" a man's voice asked along with a rap on the door for their attention.

Belinda recognized Jackson's voice before she turned around to invite the tall young man to enter. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's face showed her surprise, and her eyes were filled with questions.

"Mrs. Stafford-Smyth," said Belinda without really looking directly at Jackson, "this is Dr. Brown, Dr. Luke's new associate. Dr. Brown, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth of Boston."

Jackson crossed to the bedside and took one of the lady's weak hands in his, smiling at her warmly. And though the patient was not aware of it, Belinda watched his trained eyes already picking up much information about her physical condition.

"And how are you feeling this morning?" he asked her sincerely.

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She didn't answer his question. Instead, Belinda could tell she was studying him, her eyes--as sharp in their own way as his-- assessing everything about him.

She must have been impressed by the nicely dressed, professional young man, because she finally answered him, respect in her tone. "You caught me by surprise," she responded slowly. "I was expecting my favorite Doctah Luke to be in to see me. Now I see a good-looking young man who appeahs to me to know what he is doing. How can such a small town have the honah of two such notable doctahs while the city of Boston suffahs with old has-beens and young, smug upstarts?"

Jackson laughed heartily, patting her hand as he did so.

"Doctah Brown, you say?" Mrs. Stafford-Smyth said, turning toward Belinda. "Where did you evah find him, my deah?"

Belinda could feel her cheeks flushing. She could also feel Jackson's eyes upon her. She did wish that Mrs. Stafford-Smyth were not quite so forthright.

"Dr. Brown grew up in our community," she explained, hoping her voice was even and controlled. "His mother is the schoolteacher in our country school. Dr. Luke has been in touch with him all through his trainin', hopin' to entice him back to our little town."

The elderly lady's eyes again rested on Jackson. "I still say it is unfai-ah," she protested good-naturedly.

Jackson became serious and all-doctor then, examining the patient, asking questions, and jotting items of note on the small pad he carried.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth cooperated. Belinda had the impression that she rather liked doctors fussing over her.

"We have some new medication I would like to try," Jackson told the woman. "It has been used with good success in the hospital where I took my training. I will explain to Nurse Davis the dosage and how it is to be administered."

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Mrs. Stafford-Smyth nodded in agreement.

"Now I do believe," went on Jackson, "that when I arrived, I heard some talk about sitting up for a short time. I think that's a splendid idea. Could I help you to settle Mrs. Stafford-Smyth before I go, Nurse Davis?"

Belinda nodded and went to prepare the lady's chair by the window. Then, with Jackson's help, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was carefully positioned on the chair, the draperies pulled back, and the window slightly raised so she might enjoy the freshness of the summer day.

Belinda thanked Jackson and was about to turn back to her patient when Jackson surprised her with a request.

"May I see you for a moment please, Nurse?" he asked.

Belinda felt a twinge of concern. Had he noticed something about her patient she had failed to see? And then she remembered the new medication--he had said that he would explain to her the proper use and dosage.

"I'll be right back," she assured Mrs. Stafford-Smyth, "and I will be jest outside yer door. If you should need me, I'll--"

"Nonsense," said the lady. "I'm fine. I haven't breathed such wonderful ai-ah for weeks."

Belinda smiled and followed Jackson to the hallway.

"She's really doing remarkably well," he commented after the door had closed gently behind them. "I am convinced that she has had first-rate care."

"Luke has--" began Belinda, but Jackson interrupted her.

"I know that Luke has handled her treatment well--but I was talking specifically about nursing care."

Belinda could only flush at his compliment. "Thank you," she stammered, her eyes dropping.

Jackson stood for a moment looking down at her.

"I was hoping you'd have dinner with me this evening."

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Belinda looked up quickly. The invitation had caught her completely by surprise.

"I . . . I thought you were goin' to explain the medication . . . to tell--"

"I didn't bring it with me," hastened Jackson. "I have a supply at the office. I'll bring it this evening and explain it all to you then."

His eyes seemed to be pleading, and she wasn't sure just why. Was it necessary to meet over dinner to discuss the medication? Would a doctor ask his nurse to discuss cases over a meal? But she had worked only for Luke, and they were occupants of the same house. They could discuss cases anytime. Maybe it wasn't unusual. How was she to know? She found her head nodding in agreement. Instinctively she knew that working with Jackson was going to be different than working with her brother Luke.

"Very well," she responded, licking her lips to moisten them. "When are you off?" he asked next.

"Mrs. Mills comes at seven."

"Fine. I'll see you then."

"But . . . but. . ." argued Belinda. "I . . . I should freshen up some before . . . before dinner."

"Of course," he smiled. "I was thoughtless. How much time do you need?"

"It's going to make supper--er, dinner--very late," Belinda reasoned. "Ya'll be starved by then."

"Tell you what," he bargained. "Why don't we both catch a little something to eat around four, and then we'll be able to wait until eight with no problem."

Belinda felt she had been invited into some kind of conspiracy--actually, it was rather exciting. She nodded, a smile playing about her lips.

"I'll leave orders downstairs to send something up to the room for you and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth," he went on, and when Belinda

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was about to protest he waved it aside.

"I'll see you later," he promised with a smile that both dismayed and warmed Belinda. He touched her arm gently and was gone.

Belinda stood slowly shaking her head, watching his brisk strides take him down the corridor. Just before he rounded the corner, he turned slightly and gave her a little wave of his hand. She blushed, not expecting to get caught watching him walk away.

She pushed the door open gently and returned to her patient, glad to have something with which to occupy her time and attention.

"How are ya?" she asked solicitously. "Are ya tirin'?"

"Oh my, no," said the woman forcefully, "and don't you dai-ah try to put me back in that stuffy old bed yet."

Belinda smiled and went to freshen the bed while her patient was out of it.

"My," went on Mrs. Stafford-Smyth, "such a nice young man! You're a lucky girl."

Belinda lifted her eyes from the bed she was remaking, about to ask the lady what she had meant by her statement. But Mrs. Stafford-Smyth went on. "He likes you, you know. Anyone can see that. Have you known him long?"

Belinda wanted to deny the lady's assumption, but she wasn't sure she could truthfully do so, so she skipped it and went to the woman's question.

"We went to school together for a couple of years. He was a year ahead of me, an' he left to go take his trainin'."

"And did you develop your interest in nursing before or aftah you met him?" questioned Mrs. Stafford-Smyth frankly.

Belinda felt her face coloring but she answered, perhaps a little too quickly, "Before. I guess I've always been interested in nursin'. When Luke discovered my eagerness to learn it, he promised to

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help me. I was only a little girl then."

The lady smiled, then nodded. "See! It's like I said. Good nurses are born, not made."

They were silent for a few moments. Belinda continued straightening up the room, and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth sat looking out upon the sun-drenched world beyond her bedroom.

"I must say, though," she mused, "it certainly has complicated things for me!"

"Complicated things? Meanin'?" Belinda asked, not following the woman's train of thought.

"I had been hoping I might soon be ready to make the train trip home."

"The new medication won't complicate thet, I'm sure," Belinda quickly assured her. "In fact, it might well hasten thet time fer ya."

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth's eyes began to shine with excitement, the first that Belinda had seen there. Then the woman sobered again.

"That wasn't just what I meant," she continued. "I had . . . had been planning for some time to ask if you would accompany me."

Belinda's breath caught in her throat in a little gasp. She had never even thought about such a thing. The enormity of it caught her totally by surprise.

"You mean. . . travel with ya by train. . . all the. . . the way to Boston?" she asked.

"If you would!'

"Oh my," said Belinda. "I never thought I'd see the likes of Boston."

"Would you consider it?" asked Mrs. Stafford-Smyth.

"I. . . I don't know. I'm not sure thet Luke could manage--" "He would have Flo--and the new nurse he's training. You

said so yourself."