Kind-Hearted Woman

by Spaeth, Janet

  “Lolly?” Colin croaked out.

  “Hey, he’s talking! Wait until Lolly hears about this! God does answer her prayers, I guess.”

  “Maybe she could pray us out of this drought, do you think?”

  Colin had totally lost track of which one was speaking, as the exchange between the two men arced over his head.

  “She hasn’t left his side since he got here, except for now, of course.”

  Then a few of the stray bits clicked into place. A woman with long, light brown hair. Dark blue-gray eyes, the color of river-wet rocks. And a soft smile, a gentle touch, a quiet and true voice that sang—sang something he couldn’t quite remember. But she had been there. “Ki-ha-wo?”

  “What did I tell you, George?” the younger one asked. “He wants a cigarette.”

  Colin shook his head, an unfortunate action since it caused all the loosely connected fragments in his cranium to fly apart in a painful flurry. He shut his eyes again, closing out the world until the storm of pain could subside.

  He was slipping back under the water at Jones Beach. The gentle waves were cool on his face, wet and refreshingly liquid. He could breathe under this water.

  But first he had to say something, something that was very important. He struggled back to the surface and fought through the pounding that caromed around his skull.

  He took a deep breath and focused every fragment into a fairly cohesive whole, and then he spoke. “Kind. Hearted. Woman.”

  Then, having said it, he let the water reclaim him.

  ❧

  “He was awake, I tell you, he was,” Bud said to Lolly. “And he asked again for a cigarette.”

  George swatted at his brother. “He did not. He said something, but it didn’t make any sense. He said, ‘Kind-hearted woman.’ ”

  “Kind-hearted woman?” Lolly looked at their guest, prone on the sagging old couch. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was open a bit and his breathing seemed to be not as labored. Perhaps her brothers’ cleaning him up had helped. The dirt had been sponged away, his hair washed and combed, and he was garbed in an old work shirt and pants that once belonged to George. “Why would he say that?”

  “He’s loco,” Bud said. “He smacked his head when he passed out and he’s probably got amnesia.”

  “Oh yeah,” George said. “I forgot to tell you. He’s got a big swelling over his ear. His hair covers it, but we found it when we were washing him up.”

  “He kind of yelped when I touched it,” Bud volunteered. “So George looked at it really close. There isn’t any cut or anything, just a lump the size of your hand there. And it’s an amazing color of purple, too.”

  Lolly knelt beside the sofa and gently pushed aside the man’s hair. “His name is Colin,” she said as she examined the wound. “Colin Hammett. I don’t know if it’s better or worse if there’s no cut. At least it won’t get infected, but it sure looks like he hit something pretty hard when he fell. I wonder what it was.”

  “He was over by the fence. Probably fell against the post. How do you know his name?” George frowned.

  “I’m assuming it’s his name. It’s what’s written on the flyleaf of that Bible.” She smoothed the hair over the wounded scalp, taking care not to touch the swollen area. “He looks like a Colin. Did he have any other injuries?”

  Her brothers shook their heads.

  “Not that we could see, anyway,” George contributed.

  She bit her lip as she studied Colin’s face. She knew absolutely nothing about medicine, but it did seem to her that he should have woken up. And since she knew now about the blow to his head, the stakes had been raised.

  That much she was sure of. Head injuries could be deadly.

  “We’d better get the doctor here.” As soon as she said the words she knew that this was the right course, but how on earth would they pay for a doctor’s visit? The only physician in Valley Junction was Dr. Greenleigh, whom Lolly knew solely from church. She had no idea how much he’d charge, but she suspected his services didn’t come cheap.

  “We can’t afford a doctor,” Bud said.

  “We can’t afford to let him die, either.” George straightened their guest’s collar. “I sure do hope that God is watching over this one. I really do.”

  You are, aren’t You? Lolly asked God silently. You are watching over him?

  She began praying in earnest, sometimes with words, sometimes without. George and Bud both left, and she only vaguely noticed. Colin had to live. He had to.

  ❧

  Shadows crossed the room. Sunset came late on summer nights, but it started to creep across the horizon when she heard the rumble of the truck pulling up in front, followed by the smoother motor of an automobile.

  The door slammed, and footsteps hurried across the floor to the couch.

  “Lolly, let me take a look.” Dr. Greenleigh perched on the side of the sofa. “If you all don’t mind, I’ll need some privacy. I’ll tell you as soon as I know anything.”

  The three siblings left the room and gathered in the kitchen. Bruno followed them and sprawled on the floor next to them, chewing on something.

  Lolly reached down and took the doctor’s handkerchief out of the dog’s mouth. “Nasty, Bruno.” She’d wash it before she returned it. That dog. . .

  Sudden tears filled her eyes. “You stupid dog,” she said, fighting back the sobs that were building inside her. “Can’t even leave the doctor’s hankie alone.” She swabbed at her eyes. Silly, crying over something like a handkerchief.

  “He’ll be fine,” George said, but Lolly noticed the way his fingers were white where he gripped the back of a chair. “He’ll be fine.”

  Bud shook his head. “I hope so. I don’t want to be gloomy about this, but he’s in really bad shape.”

  She knew that, but hearing Bud say it so baldly rattled her with unexpected force. Their guest had to live. He had to.

  Her eyes stung as she fought tears. She mopped them away with the back of her hand as she lost the fight and great watery drops slid down her cheeks.

  George put his arm around Lolly’s shoulders, and she leaned against him, grateful for his strength.

  Dr. Greenleigh called them back into the living room. “What this fellow needs is water. Start small at first and then build up, for the next day or so. Clear soup if you have some. Then add in food, a bit at a time. He may be ravenous, but it won’t do his stomach any good to eat a lot right away.”

  “Eat a lot right away?” Bud echoed. “He’s not even awake. How can he eat?”

  “Bud’s got a point, in a way,” Lolly said. “I think I’d be glad if he just woke up. Why won’t he wake up?”

  The doctor nodded. “Well, he’s tired for one thing. Ex-hausted. I’d wager that he hasn’t had a good, restful sleep in quite a while. But he’s also got a head injury, and that’s tiring in itself.”

  “I thought people weren’t supposed to sleep if they got conked on the head,” Bud said. “I’d always heard that you had to keep them awake.”

  “He doesn’t have a concussion, so it doesn’t matter. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to sail on through this. Head injuries are mighty dangerous things.” He looked at each of them slowly, one at a time. “The greatest danger, I’m afraid, is that he may lose all or some of his memory.”

  “But it’ll come back, his memory that is, won’t it?” Lolly asked, her hands twisting in her apron.

  The doctor shrugged. “We would hope. The brain is an incredible thing. It has the remarkable ability to heal or to re-create new paths that go around the damaged area. Having said that, I do caution you that I’ve seen my share of brain injuries, and some people never recover.”

  “You mean they die?” Bud asked.

  The doctor faced him. “Or sometimes the body stays alive, but the brain doesn’t—or at least not much m
ore than is necessary to sustain life functions. I can’t say which is worse. That’s not my call.”

  No one spoke until at last the doctor said, “Lolly, George, Bud, I’d recommend you pay close attention to him, and that you pray. What medicine can’t do, God can. It’s in His hands.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” George said, as the physician clicked his medical bag shut and headed for the door. “How much do we owe you?”

  The doctor paused and shook his head. “No charge. I can’t imagine a more fortunate place for a man to almost die than here. If anyone can save him, the three of you can. The healing that’s needed here isn’t something medicine can do. No, it’s up to you three—and God. I’ll check back tomorrow.”

  The door closed behind him, and for a moment they stood in silence, stunned by the gravity of the task ahead.

  “Well,” George said, “no pressure on us, huh?”

  Bruno barked at the doctor’s car as it drove away. “He’s quite the watchdog, that one,” Bud said almost absentmindedly. “Barks when the doctor leaves.”

  “We should take turns watching over Colin,” Lolly said. “If he wakes up—when he wakes up, someone needs to be at his side.”

  It was odd, she thought as she sat next to the couch later in the day, how things could change in a matter of minutes. And with those changes, how her perception shifted, too.

  She’d felt caught, robbed of any choices she might make. And now, here with an injured stranger in her life, she was even more snared, unable to leave. But she no longer felt bound to the farm. She had a mission.

  three

  He is beyond what I ever could have expected. If I could dream a love story, this would be it. With him at my side, I feel light and carefree. I waltz on rainbows; I skip on clouds. The world is glorious with color, and melody surrounds me. He holds my hand, and we face the future. . .as one.

  Her head bobbled on her chest as she fought sleep. She was so tired. George had slept right through his shift with Colin, but she hadn’t had the heart to wake him up. He worked so hard to keep the farm going, and doing that while keeping Bud in line—or as much in line as possible—was difficult, and she knew that.

  But she had to stay awake. What if Colin woke up? She couldn’t let herself succumb to sleep. She had to stay awake; she had to.

  A touch on her arm startled her.

  She must have drifted off. The sun was up, and the dog was snuffling around her feet.

  “Sorry,” George whispered. “I guess I overslept.”

  “How is he?” She looked over at Colin.

  “Better. He stirred a bit as I came in here. I wouldn’t be surprised to see our patient coming to later on today, maybe even this morning. Why don’t you catch a few minutes by yourself? You know, swab off, drag a comb through your hair, that kind of thing. Maybe even pop on a clean dress.”

  She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Colin’s side, not when he might be waking up at any moment. “I’m fine.”

  “No offense, sis,” George said, “but you’re not.”

  “No kidding,” Bud added as he joined them. “You should take a run by a mirror sometime soon, and then tell me if that’s the first thing you’d want to see if you were returning from the world of the nearly dead. You, dear Lolly, are a mess.”

  There was no point in taking offense at anything Bud blurted out. What his mind thought, his mouth said.

  And, in this case at least, he was right, she realized when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the mantel. The bun at the nape of her neck had almost entirely worked its way free of the string she’d used to hold it back, and now lank locks straggled around her face. Her dress was wrinkled and soiled from the day before. She wasn’t a sight for sore eyes as much as she was a sight to make eyes sore.

  She filled the basin in the bathroom and dunked a washcloth in it and began to repair the damage as best she could. Soon her hair, still wet, was pulled back in a respectable braid that was tied with a piece of blue ribbon, and she smoothed down the blue and white dress she’d changed into.

  “Better?” she asked as she reentered the room.

  “Lolly, we have guests. More guests.” Bud’s voice let her know exactly what he thought of these visitors.

  Two women stood up from leaning over the couch. From the stormy expression on George’s face, she knew that he wasn’t happy. Bruno was growling softly outside the screen door, obviously not pleased at being exiled.

  Lolly’s heart sank as she saw who was gathered around the couch. She wasn’t ready for them. Even with a good night’s sleep she wouldn’t be a match for them.

  Hildegard Hopper had been widowed so long that the townspeople disagreed whom she’d been married to. Whoever the mysterious Mr. Hopper had been, he hadn’t lasted long into the marriage, but he’d managed to leave her well enough off that she’d never wanted for anything, even with the depression nipping at everyone else’s heels.

  Today her substantial body was wrapped in a spotless ivory dress, and she wore matching shoes with tiny curved heels and open toes. An absurd hat made of a scrap of wool, some netting, and a miniature bird’s nest was perched atop her waved auburn hair.

  Amelia Kramer was a tiny little thing, just the opposite of Hildegard, and within her gray-curled head were filed the town’s secrets. Like a miniature human sponge, she absorbed everything that was said or done around her. Amelia reminded Lolly of a moth that fluttered around the brighter light of Hildegard Hopper.

  Amelia had also dressed up for the occasion of meeting the mysterious visitor. She had on her Sunday best, a navy blue two-piece suit. Lolly knew from the design that once it had been quite expensive, but the seams had been repaired so many times that the cut no longer retained its original sharpness.

  “Eleanor!” Hildegard tippy-tapped over to Lolly in her impractical shoes and embraced Lolly in a deep hug. Lolly tried not to inhale too deeply; Hildegard did love her perfume.

  She winced as the heady scent invaded her lungs. Every-thing about Hildegard was simply too much: too much perfume, too much money, too much artifice.

  And she called her Eleanor. Nobody called Lolly Eleanor, not since the day she was born and George had called her Lolly. Lolly she’d become—forever.

  Lolly broke from the hug and summoned a smile for the women. “How sweet of you to come. I wasn’t expecting you, but—”

  “Oh, you goose!” Hildegard gushed on. “Of course you weren’t, but we just had to come and see for ourselves! You are so nice to take this man in when you have practically nothing to speak of to live on as it is, not with this terrible depression taking its dreadful toll on all of us!”

  “So nice,” Amelia echoed. “So nice.”

  Hildegard minced back to the couch. “He’s such a hand-some young man. If only his circumstances hadn’t brought him here to this lowly place.”

  George cleared his throat, and Lolly could tell that polite-ness was arguing with his desire to tell Hildegard Hopper what he thought of her calling their home lowly.

  Hildegard must have noticed, for she clapped one hand over her mouth. “Oh, my dears, I didn’t mean that! I meant his poor, poor condition, the state of affairs that placed such a man on the road, forced him to become a vagabond and to live off the kindness of strangers who might well not be able to stretch their own meager means to include him.”

  “Very kind of you to see to his needs.” Amelia nodded as she spoke.

  “Oh, these woeful times!” Hildegard fanned her face with her fingertips. “There isn’t a body in the whole of Minnesota who hasn’t felt the dreadful strictures of this horrible mess the nation is in, with no jobs anywhere and no money! Why, just the other day I was commiserating with Reverend Wellman about the sad state of the collection plate. One can hardly hope to keep house and home together, let alone give, as we all should, for the Lord’s good work. It�
��s a piteous time, indeed.”

  Amelia tsked in agreement. “Indeed, Hildegard. Wise, wise words.”

  “This poor man is indeed fortunate to have found you. Do you know what his situation in life is?” Hildegard’s eyebrows arched inquisitively at Lolly.

  “His situation?” Lolly asked blankly. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

  “His past. You know, what he was, what he did, who his people were.”

  Lolly moved a bit closer to Colin, and she noticed that her brothers leaned in almost defensively, too. “I’m sure I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep the coolness in her voice to a socially acceptable level.

  “We’re just concerned,” Hildegard said, heading for her with opened arms again, “for your safety. With just the three of you out here, all alone, so vulnerable, orphans, the lot of you—why, it pains my heart just to think of the consequences that might occur.”

  Lolly stepped aside to deflect most of the hug. “We’ll be fine.”

  “He could be a criminal,” Amelia said in a softly sinuous voice. It was, Lolly thought, what a snake would sound like if it could speak. The woman’s eyes were bright with anticipation, as if she hoped she was right and Colin might slaughter them all in their sleep. What a wonderful story that would be.

  It was definitely time for the two women to leave before she or her brothers said something they’d regret.

  Lolly placed a gentle hand on each woman’s elbow. “He is still quite weak, so I think I’ll ask you to return later. We are limiting his visitors and trying to keep the room as quiet as possible. I think you understand.” She continued to murmur until she had steered the women out of the room and to the door of Hildegard’s DeSoto. Bruno kept a wary eye on the group from the shade of the cottonwoods, occasionally baring his teeth at the visitors.

  Without giving either woman a chance to interrupt, Lolly’s flow of words continued until the two women were seated in the vehicle.

  “Perhaps another day? I hope so. Thank you so much for stopping by to see us. I hope you have a pleasant day.”