Be My Texas Valentine

by Jodi Thomas

  “Dr. Powell? Are you home?” called a female voice from the front parlor.

  Angelina nearly busted her bustle flying out of the kitchen ahead of him as he answered, “I’ll be right there.”

  “No-ah-Pow. No-ah-Pow. Smch-smch-smch,” Gabby trilled from the cage as he and Angelina rounded the corner and came face-to-face with a red-haired woman who had her look-alike son in tow.

  “Mrs. Rawlston. How are you? Is Roy Lee feeling any better?” Noah eyed his ten-year-old patient. “Have his bowel movements shown any indication of improvement in the past week or so?”

  “Yes.” She nodded briskly, setting her feathered hat into motion. “I must say, I didn’t believe you at all but the frog actually came out, as you said it would.”

  Angelina looked on in horror. “You mean he—”

  “Pooped a frog. Yes, he did. I told him to quit putting strange things in his mouth, but he refused to believe me. He took a dare to see how many frogs he could fit in his mouth and swallowed one.” She grabbed her son by the ear as the boy poked his finger into the birdcage. “Just like he’s about to get his finger pecked off if he doesn’t keep his hands where they belong. Roy Lee, leave those birds alone.”

  “Says-a-me. Says-a-me. Open up.” Gabby rattled the latch. Her bill seemed to be waiting for another poke of the tiny finger.

  “Oww, Mama, that hurts!”

  “I’m going to make something else hurt if you don’t start minding your manners, young man. Now tell Dr. Powell what you did this morning so I can decide whether I need to make you an appointment with the undertaker.”

  Roy Lee’s chin dipped to his chest as he mumbled, “I put some crawdad eyes in Beth Ann’s sandwich when she wasn’t looking, and she got so mad she wrestled me and poured some of her daddy’s chaw down my throat. I got to spitting it out quick but plenty of it went down and made me spiteful sick. It was all black and gooey and it looked like big ol’ lumps mixed with the flapjacks I ate this morning.”

  Angelina paled noticeably. “I need to sit down.”

  “Here, dear, let me help you.” Mrs. Rawlston let go of her son and helped Angelina to the settee. The boy moved closer to Noah, just to keep out of swatting range of his mother’s arms. “Wait till you have a boy of your own. None of this will affect you in the least. Why, by the time you change his first dirty diaper—”

  “You ladies enjoy your talk.” Noah rustled Roy Lee’s red hair. “We’ll go see how much his belly’s grumbling and be right back.”

  He gladly escaped with the ten-year-old and took him to the bedroom he used as an operating room. He lifted the boy up on the examination table. “So Beth Ann’s pretty upset with you, is she?”

  “Naww, she likes me. She told me so.”

  “Is that why you put crawdad eyes in her sandwich?”

  “Yep. I figured I’d see if she was dumb enough to eat them.”

  “So you’d know if she was the girl for you?”

  “Yep. I don’t want no dumb girl liking me.”

  “She didn’t eat them, did she?”

  “Nope.” Respect filled his voice. “She found ’um right off. Said she suspected me right from the get-go.” Brown eyes stared up at Noah. “What’s a get-go, doc?”

  “Don’t know for certain, but I think only smart girls can spot one.”

  “That’s what I figure. ’Cause whatever it is, it made sure she knew about them eyeballs and she didn’t eat ’um. I still ain’t certain how come she had her daddy’s chaw so close by, but she used it quicker than I could tell her I was real sorry. Phew! I won’t never do that again.”

  Noah held back a laugh. It sounded like Beth Ann was a lot smarter than even Roy Lee knew. She’d obviously come prepared for possibilities. “So you plan on telling her she’s your girl now?”

  “On Valentine’s Day.” Roy Lee rubbed his tummy. “I figure that’ll give me enough time to get out of trouble with Ma so I can ask Beth Ann to the dance with me.”

  “Sounds like a good plan, but I’d like to offer a piece of advice.”

  “Yeah?” The boy looked at him askance.

  “Tell Beth Ann you’re sorry before Valentine’s Day. She might go with some other boy if you wait.”

  Noah examined the young Romeo, listening to his belly and breathing, checking to see if he had any temperature. “Have you eaten anything since you lost your flapjacks?”

  “Yeah. Some of Ma’s blueberry pie.”

  “You’ll live then.” He set the boy on his feet and would have given him the usual peppermint stick he offered his other youthful patients but decided to give the kid’s stomach a rest. “No need for the undertaker.”

  “I told her I was tough.” Roy Lee strutted down the hall to the waiting room.

  When they returned to the women, they found that others had joined Angelina and Mrs. Rawlston. In fact, it looked like a meeting of the Ladies’ Church Auxiliary Club had been called. Noah greeted his patients, none looking particularly ill. He focused his attention on Roy Lee’s mother.

  “My diagnosis is that you need to keep his mouth closed for a while,” Noah informed her, “and insist that he only put things in it that are supposed to go in it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, Dr. Powell.” She rose from her seat next to Angelina. “Well, ladies, it’s been good talking with you. I hope you all start feeling better. Must be an epidemic going around.”

  Angelina was the only one of the group who looked even remotely in need of his attention. But he wasn’t sure if she was still reacting to the visual Roy Lee had given of losing his breakfast or if she was upset. She looked more like she was pouting.

  “I’m next, Dr. Powell.” Carrie Sanders stood, lifting her double chins to a determined angle and daring the other women to contradict her claim. “I came in just as you took Roy Lee in to be examined.”

  “What can I do to help you, Miss Sanders?”

  An hour later he had seen all of the women and found none of them to be suffering from anything but a sudden need for attention. Each of them had mentioned the dance and hinted that they were still available. He decided he ought to just escort Angelina to the party and be done with it. If every female in the territory was going to visit him in the next few days to let him know of her availability, he would get nothing done.

  To his surprise, Angelina was alone waiting in the parlor when he finished with his last patient. He expected her sister to have joined them by now. “I’m sorry, Miss Brown. I never dreamed I would be that busy. I was hoping to show you and your sister where everything is that I use for the birds, then to see you both home.”

  “Something’s kept JoEmma. I’m getting concerned about her. She should have been here long before now.” Angelina looked almost mad, not just concerned. “I wanted us both to be informed of your preferences for Amigo’s care.”

  He suspected she was frustrated by the other women’s appearance at his office today, but there was still a sense of sincerity in her concern over her younger sister and his expectations concerning his pet. “How about I close up for a while and find out what’s kept her? You can go along with me or I’ll see that she gets home as soon as possible.”

  “I’m afraid she’s overdone herself again.” Angelina stood and dusted the wrinkles from her skirt. “I’ll go on home and prepare her some chamomile tea. That always strengthens her.”

  “Let me get a buggy for you.” Noah decided that was the least he could do for her since she’d waited so long.

  “No, I’ll walk. If I ride, I wouldn’t be able to lift the wheelchair if I find her along the way home. If I’m walking, I can at least push her home if she’s too tired to roll it herself.”

  Noah watched her walk away, his respect for Angelina Brown deeper than before. She loved her sister. Choosing to walk just now said it louder than any words ever could.

  He hurried in the opposite direction, heading for the mercantile a couple of streets away. Looking through every business window that showed activi
ty inside, he saw no one who looked remotely as if they were wheelchair level. No sign of her along the sidewalks. It took him less than ten minutes to get to Kimble’s Mercantile. As he stepped inside, he saw her dozing in her chair near the pot-bellied stove that stood in one corner of the store. Coffee wafted from a blue-speckled pot on one of the burners.

  Noah wished his boots didn’t cause the slats of the floorboards to creak as he walked through the aisles toward her. Instead of waking her, he simply sat in one of the chairs near the stove that the owner provided for customers who whittled or shared stories while they drank coffee.

  Mrs. Kimble, a big German woman who looked like a blond-braided Viking of long ago, came in from a back room, saw him, and held a pudgy finger up to her lips to signal silence.

  He nodded and folded his arms into each other, crossed his long legs out in front of him. A board creaked beneath his boot. Mrs. Kimble frowned. JoEmma stirred and her head lifted as her eyes blinked open. It took her a minute to focus on him next to her. When she did, her eyes widened in apology. Brown. They are more brown than hazel, he decided.

  “I’m sorry. I must have dozed off.” She glanced at the store owner. “Did we finish the pots?”

  “Ja, you finished enough. Now you go home and rest yourself, liebling.”

  “I’m taking you home.” Noah stood and grabbed the back handles to her wheelchair.

  “I can make it there by myself, thank you.” Her cheeks stained crimson, making her look even paler. Her fingers flexed and she rubbed her palms together. “I’m okay now.”

  “Are you trying to tell a doctor his business?” Noah could see that she wasn’t up to the long roll of the chair across the roadway. Her hands were obviously sore. Why wasn’t she wearing gloves? “I promised your sister that I would make sure you got home, and I keep my promises.”

  JoEmma gripped the chair as if she were preparing herself for a wild ride.

  “Relax,” he said as he bent to whisper the word in her ear. She smelled of the earth and honeysuckle she’d been planting in the pots and something he couldn’t quite define. The blend of aromas appealed to him and he knew that he wouldn’t think of JoEmma Brown ever again without recalling the fragrance.

  “Ready?” he asked. “Is there anything else you need to take with you?”

  “Just me.”

  Mrs. Kimble waved her out. “Don’t let your young man keep you out too long.”

  “Oh, but he’s not my ...” JoEmma’s words trailed off behind them as Noah rolled her out of the mercantile and down the sidewalk.

  “People always assume we’re together, don’t they?” Noah teased, recalling how his childhood buddies had taunted him for helping her home that day she’d skinned her knee. He’d fought a couple of them for saying she’d fallen on purpose just to get his attention. From that point on, the boys thought of her as his girl and watched what they said about her. He decided to be truthful with her now. “You know Mrs. Lassiter is trying to get me interested in one of you Browns as a bride.”

  JoEmma’s shoulders stiffened, but her words were gentle. “Angelina would have no problem with that. In fact, I’d say that would please her greatly. She’d be a wonderful wife.”

  “I’m sure she will be one day.” Though Noah admired JoEmma for trying to help her sister’s cause, he wondered why the younger Brown didn’t seem interested in him for herself. He’d always thought JoEmma liked being around him. At least, he’d always felt extremely comfortable with her. Did vanity spur his question even now? “What about you? Have you ever thought about marrying, Miss Brown?”

  “If I’m going to take care of Gabby and Amigo, you need to feel comfortable in calling me JoEmma. No formal name for me, please. We’ve known each other too long for that.”

  “Yes, we have, and maybe you’ll dispense with the Dr. Powell business. I’m just Noah.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So answer my question. Will you ever marry, JoEmma? I’ve never known you to have a particular beau. But, of course, I was gone those years at college.”

  “I had a beau or two until I took the fever, then afterward I wasn’t sure how this would affect me. So I found interest in other things like animals and flowers and things I could do at a new eye level once my health put me in the chair. I didn’t want to be a burden to a husband. What I can and cannot do is limited, and I wouldn’t want to stifle a man’s life in any way. Especially an active man who would be slowed down by the things I can’t do, and he might feel obligated to do for me.”

  “I don’t recall a time when I haven’t seen you working,” Noah countered. “You’re one of the most active women I know, despite your infirmity.”

  “Thank you. I try to be.” She sounded pleased for a moment before adding, “But just a moment ago, you saw. Every once in a while I just have to turn off for a few minutes, like I’m a light that can be blown out for the night and lit back up in the morning. What if I have no fire at a critical moment when I need it?”

  He knew exactly what she meant. That critical moment had happened once to him and he had been as healthy as an ox. But all the fire had gone out of him and he’d given in to pure exhaustion. Not exhaustion of the body. Exhaustion of arguing with a woman about what was best for her. A woman who ultimately lost her brave battle for life because he’d given in and listened to her instead of his better judgment. And because of that, he’d lost his patient and his father’s respect.

  “You try to forgive yourself if that happens and become more diligent at learning how not to allow yourself that weakness again,” he whispered, lost in the sad memory.

  A calloused palm reached up and touched Noah’s hand. “You do understand.”

  Those three words bound him to JoEmma as surely as if they’d shared volumes. She had spoken in a language that had touched his heart and made him want to spend more time with her. Made him want to deepen their conversation. She talked with depth, not the shallow talk of others.

  It was then he made up his mind that he would attend the Valentine’s dance and exactly whom he meant to escort. But first, he would prove she was no burden to anyone. Not even to herself.

  He would find out if there was a chance to heal what ailed JoEmma Brown. If not her body, then her spirit.

  Chapter 6

  When Noah reached his office and started to move past, JoEmma signaled him to stop. “Please don’t take me home yet.”

  He halted his pushing, then gently turned the chair halfway around. Coming in front of the chair to face her, he bent so that their eyes met at the same level. He had positioned her so that she wouldn’t be facing the setting sun and she wouldn’t be staring up to see him in shadow. His consideration pleased her.

  “I promised your sister that I’d bring you right home when I found you. She’ll be worried.”

  “I won’t take long, I promise. I would just like to say good-bye to Gabby,” she whispered. “Not good-bye exactly, but ... well ... you know what I mean.”

  Understanding shone in the depths of his eyes. “I felt the same thing earlier today about Amigo. Really, JoEmma, if you want to change your mind, we’ll take the birds back to your house.”

  “No, this is best for them. I’ll just miss seeing her whenever the mood strikes me. We shared a lot of nights visiting with each other,” JoEmma said softly, rolling her chair a few inches closer to the front door of his office. “Shall we?”

  Noah opened the door and immediately took back command of the pushing. “This will allow me to take a look at your hands while I’m here. I have some salve that I think will help.”

  She let her palms rest in her lap, not sure quite what to do with them. He’d obviously noticed the calluses and, being a healer, wanted to help with her pain. Still, she wondered what else he’d taken the time to notice about her. She was no longer a girl with pigtails and skinned knees. Did he find her at all interesting? Pretty?

  As he rolled her into his waiting room, JoEmma instantly saw where he kept the birdcage
and gave a little whistle.

  “Says-a-me. Says-a-me. Open up.” Gabby flew to the cage door. Amigo made little kissing noises.

  “There you are, Funny Feathers.” JoEmma appreciated when Noah immediately rolled her toward the cage, took it down from the hook, and set it on the table next to the settee.

  “We’ll find somewhere else to hang the cage so you can reach it.” Noah sat on the settee to watch her watch the birds.

  It was only then that she realized he must be really tired from seeing patients all afternoon then looking for her and rolling her home. “Thanks for everything, Noah. For finding Gabby and giving her a good home. For helping me and Angelina.”

  “My pleasure. I hope this will allow us some time to catch up with each other after all these years. I’ve been so busy and you’ve been ...” His words trailed off.

  “Housebound basically,” she interjected, rather than saying what she was really thinking, which was she’d deliberately isolated herself from activities that might make her feel awkward or required too much stamina.

  “I was going to say, you’ve been just as busy with all your projects. Would you like something to drink?” He started to rise but she waved away his effort.

  “No thanks. If Angelina’s worried about me, she’ll have something waiting on me so I best not stay too long.”

  He nodded. “You know your sister well. She’s brewing up something even as we speak.”

  “Of that I’m certain.” JoEmma laughed, not meaning anything that had to do with something to drink.

  “She and some of the other townswomen are full of plans for Miss Whitaker’s party, from what I could tell this afternoon. I believe they had a gathering of the minds about it here in the waiting room.” Noah explained some of what had transpired.

  What had Angelina done? Made sure every woman in town knew she was going to the doctor’s office? JoEmma regretted even more that she hadn’t gotten here any sooner. No telling what was hatched among the hens.