Where Wildflowers Bloom: A Novel (3 page)

She turned to Mr. Saxon. “I know we’ve been enough trouble to you already, but could you ask Dr. Greeley to come?” She rubbed her throat, willing herself to be calm.

“Already did, miss. Stopped on the way. He’s with a patient. Said to tell you he’d be here directly.”

She drew a chair beside the cot and sank onto it, clasping one of Grandpa’s hands between her own. “Thank you.” She addressed both men in a quavering voice.

“Glad to help.” The owner of the livery stable tugged at his curly beard and shuffled his feet. “Reckon I best be going. I ain’t no doc.”

Mr. Saxon moved to one side to allow his employer to leave. “You don’t mind, miss, I’ll wait out front until Doc Greeley gets here.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. “I’m grateful for your help.”

After he left, she stared around the small room. Intended as sleeping quarters for a house servant, the space had been unused for years. Dust tickled Faith’s nose. Not a good place for Grandpa, but as it was the only bedroom on the first floor, it would have to do.

Faith heard voices in the entry hall and then Dr. August Greeley appeared in the doorway. His white hair flowed around his shoulders, framing the precise white goatee on his chin. “The young fellow out there said your grandfather took a fall.” He patted Faith’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry. I’m sure he’ll be right as rain in no time.”

The doctor dropped his medical bag on the floor and bent over the cot. She watched while he raised one of Grandpa’s eyelids. “Hmm.” After placing an open pocket watch in one hand, he closed his fingers over the unconscious man’s wrist. Lips moving, he counted to himself.

“Pulse is steady. Can you fetch me some water so I can clean off this blood?”

Faith jumped to her feet, glad to have something to do. In moments she returned with a basin filled with warm water from the reservoir on the stove.

Once Dr. Greeley had swabbed and bandaged Grandpa’s temple, he sat in the chair Faith vacated and wiped his hands on a towel. “He should come around any minute. After he wakes up, he’ll need to be watched for a few days. Blow to the head’s a serious matter, ’specially on old fellas like me and Nate here.”

Faith looked past the doctor at her grandfather. She could barely discern the rising and falling of his chest as he drew breath. She squeezed a question past the iron bands of fear that circled her throat.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?”

F
aith sensed a presence behind her.

Mr. Saxon stood in the doorway. “I saw this happen when I was soldiering. Most always, they came around.” From his expression, she knew he meant to be comforting.

“Most always?” She knit her fingers together and rested her chin on her clasped hands. “What happened when they didn’t? Did they—?”

Dr. Greeley interrupted. “Nate’s lips are moving.” He shot a stern glance at Mr. Saxon. “No need for worrisome comments.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.” His face turned stony. “I’ll be going now.”

Faith glanced between him and the doctor. “Just one moment. I made up a meal for you since you missed your dinner.” She returned to the kitchen and handed him the towel-wrapped food. “You’ve been more than helpful. I can’t thank you enough.”

“No trouble.” Without his ready smile, his face relaxed into weary lines.

After he left, she noticed her bonnet on a table in the entry hall. It had been brushed clean of debris from the wagon. Grandpa’s cane hung from the edge of the table. Another kindness for which she owed thanks to Mr. Saxon.

“Miss Faith? Your grandfather’s asking for you.” Dr. Greeley motioned to her from the bedroom doorway.

“Praise God. He’s awake.” She stepped around the doctor and bent over the cot. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts. What happened?”

“Mr. Saxon said your bad leg gave way and you fell. Your head hit the wagon.”

“Where were we?”

“At the Wylies’, delivering china. Don’t you remember?”

He started to shake his head, then winced. “Nope. Last thing I recall is young Saxon directing me to the Wylies’ house.” Grandpa shifted on the cot and looked at the doctor. “August, what happened?”

Faith’s eyes widened. “I just told you—”

Dr. Greeley held up a hand to stop her. “You fell and hit your head,” he told Grandpa. His voice was matter-of-fact. “You’ll need to stay home and rest for a few days. Mind yourself when you walk about.”

“Well, I can do that all right. Faith here is running the store now.”

She smiled, relieved that he remembered.

Grandpa took her hand. “Why am I in the servant’s room? What happened?”

A pulse throbbed in her throat. She stared at the doctor, sending him a frantic question with her eyes.

He warned her to silence with a slight shake of his head. “You fell and took a bad blow to your temple. Rest now. Faith will bring you a cool cloth for your forehead in a moment.” The doctor lifted his medical bag and clasped Grandpa’s shoulder. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

Faith followed him from the room. As soon as they were out of earshot, she asked, “What’s the matter with him? He keeps asking the same question.”

“I’ve seen brief amnesia with head injuries before. It’s nothing to worry about—unless he’s still asking tomorrow.” He tilted his head, an avuncular expression on his face. “Just be patient with him for now. Most of all, don’t let him move around too much. If you need firewood split, or other such, best call on a neighbor.”

“I can do firewood. Have been ever since . . .” She blinked away quick tears. “Since Papa and Maxwell left. They showed me how.” She opened the front door and stood to one side. A chilly breeze slipped past her, ruffling her skirt. “How long do you think it will be before we can go back to the store?” Faith hated herself for asking, but the only time Grandpa had closed the mercantile was when they received the news from Westport.

“ ‘We’?”

She nodded. “Grandpa has asked me to take over for him. Now . . .” She waved a hand toward the rear of the house. “I can’t be in two places at once.”

“Nor should you be. I thought your grandfather was rambling when he said you were running things. I don’t know what possessed him—a young lady such as yourself involved in commerce. It’s not proper.”

His tone riled Faith. “I can manage the mercantile, and I plan to. What’s proper has changed since the war.”

“Things haven’t changed that much, missy.” He wagged his finger at her. “I’ve known you since you were born. I’ll thank you to show some respect.”

“I could hardly refuse my grandfather’s wishes, could I?” She stifled her irritation. “Can you suggest a person who might be able to stay with him so I can tend the store?”

“Absolutely not. Your place is right here.”

The following morning, Faith jolted awake at the sound of her grandfather’s cane tapping across the downstairs floor. She flung the covers aside and dashed halfway down the stairs to the landing in time to see him fully dressed, walking out the front door. Gray daylight outlined his form as he moved out of sight.

“Mercy sakes! Grandpa!”

If he heard her, he didn’t stop.

No time to don a robe. She flew down the stairs after him and caught up just as he crossed at the end of their block. The mud in the street squished between her bare toes and wicked along the hem of her nightgown.

Grandpa stared at her with astonishment. “What are you doing out here? You’re not even dressed.”

“Grandpa, what are
you
doing out here? You might fall again. Come with me, and let’s have some breakfast.” She slipped her arm under his.

“Eggs and potatoes. Not that oatmeal pap.”

“Eggs it is.”

As the sun crested the horizon, roosters crowed insults at one another from behind nearby homes. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a curtain drawn back in their neighbor’s window. She turned her head and waved, grinning. Might as well give folks something new to discuss.

After eating, Grandpa paced back and forth in the entry hall. “You sure August said I have to rest at home?” He addressed the question on one of his trips past the kitchen door.

Faith turned from the basin where she was washing the breakfast dishes. “The doctor was very clear on the subject. ‘Rest for a few days,’ he said. He’ll be here later to check on you.”

Grandpa settled onto one of the kitchen chairs, a glum expression on his face. “I can’t be still for that long. He’ll have to tie me down.”

Her heart stirred. Maybe there was a solution for both of them. “Would you like me to bring you your papers? You can work here.”

“Would you do that?” He brightened for a moment, then his moustache drooped. “What about the mercantile? We can’t leave it closed. People depend on us.”

Faith crossed the room and dropped a kiss on his bald spot. “I have an idea.”

Dr. Greeley arrived a few minutes after ten. “How’s your grandfather this morning?”

“He’s stopped asking about his accident. But he’s restless. He’s not used to being idle.” Faith hung the doctor’s hat on the hall tree. “I told him I’d bring him some papers from the store, so he’d have something to do.”

“Good. No reason he can’t be up and around, but he needs to refrain from strenuous activity for a bit.”

“That you, August?” Grandpa stepped out of the parlor.

“None other.” He studied his patient. “Except for that bandaged head, you look like you’ve recovered.”

“Nothing wrong with me. A sore head’s all. You got time for a game of checkers?”

Faith recognized opportunity. Before the doctor could answer, she said, “While you two are busy with your game, I’ll dash to the store and get your papers, Grandpa.”

Surprise, followed by irritation, crossed the doctor’s face. “I wasn’t planning—”

“I shouldn’t be too long.” She favored him with a winsome smile. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you to stay.” She whisked upstairs and grabbed her shawl and bonnet.

When Faith reached the town square, she bypassed the mercantile and entered the office of the
Noble Springs Observer
. Mr. Simpkins eyed her with surprise.

“How about if I come tell you if I hear of more casualties? Save you the trouble of dropping in so often.” He sounded a touch sarcastic.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. I won’t bother you again. But that’s not why I’m here. I have a question and figured if anyone would have the answer, it would be you. No one knows more about Noble Springs.”

He straightened in his chair, chest puffed. “Ask away.”

“Yesterday morning, a woman named Rosemary was in the mercantile. Two of the ladies who saw her told me she had been a nurse. Do you know where I might find her?”

“Only one person like that around here. What would a decent gal like you want with her?”

Faith blinked at the open prejudice in his voice. Why was it permissible for a woman to care for a child who was ill, but not to help injured soldiers? “I have something to ask her. Where does she live?”

He walked to the window and pointed east. “Follow King’s Highway about three blocks. Saxons live on the left, gray house, white fence around the yard.”

“Saxons?” Faith swallowed. “Does she have a brother who works at Ripley’s Livery?” As soon as she asked, she remembered Rosemary saying that she’d come to Noble Springs to live with her brother.

“Yep. He showed up around six months ago, but she hasn’t been here that long. People are stirred up since the war ended. Some folks leaving, some coming. Be glad when things settle down.”

Faith thought of her own plans to travel to Oregon. “I can understand not wanting to remain around sad memories.”

“Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. Memories and all.” He combed his fingers through his rumpled blond hair. “Might as well stay put.”

She moved toward the doorway. “Thank you for your help.”

“Welcome. Say, I noticed your grandpappy didn’t open the mercantile this morning. Been some customers pass by.”

“We’ll be open this afternoon. You can tell anyone who asks.”

Once out on the boardwalk she turned east, but her steps slowed as she neared the gray house. Knowing that Rosemary must be Mr. Saxon’s sister altered her intentions. She hated to impose on the family again, after all that had happened yesterday, but the woman was her best hope.

Behind the picket fence, a neatly maintained yard with raised flower beds framed the front walk. Rows of seedlings lifted their leaves toward the sun. Faith couldn’t help but contrast the tidy garden with the tumble of weeds in front of her house. Some people had a knack for coaxing flowers out of the soil. She wasn’t one of them.