“I know all that!” Lindsay burst out impatiently. “That’s what he told Aunt Jennifer and me. She doesn’t believe it. I don’t know whether I do or not. Do you?”
Dr. Corbett hesitated, and then he grinned and said briskly, “Well, I see no reason to doubt him. And anyway, I’m convinced he’s a right guy; that you and Miss Jennifer are quite safe in having him here. So relax.”
“Relax?” Lindsay almost spat the word at him in her indignation. “Who’s unrelaxed? You’re the one who was making an uproar; carrying on, as Amalie would say, because Aunt Jennifer and I were in peril of our lives with a strange man in the house!”
“I’m sorry I frightened you,” he said penitently, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that indicated a secret amusement.
“Frightened me?” she snapped hotly. “Look, I met Alden Mayhew yesterday; he’s been in the house since early this morning; we’ve had lunch together. I pride myself on having learned a little something about judging character during my hospital experience. I wasn’t frightened at all; I just thought you were being silly.”
His eyes held resentment now, and his tone echoed the look.
“Oh, you did, did you?”
“I did, I did!” she assured him hotly. “Oh, I know nurses aren’t supposed ever to think doctors are silly; we’re supposed to grovel at their feet and worship them.”
“One more crack like that, Lindsay, my girl, and s’help me, I’ll smack you!” he warned her ominously.
Her eyes widened and, startled, she took a backward step from him and tripped. His arms shot out, caught her, steadied her and for a moment held her as he looked down into her wide eyes. And then, with a small scowl drawing his brows together, he bent his head and kissed her hard on the mouth.
Lindsay caught her breath and struggled free of his arms.
“That’ll teach you to get sassy with me, my girl,” he told her, and marched to the edge of the drive. There he remembered something and turned to say curtly, “Oh, by the way, I asked Mayhew to go with us to the Tavern Monday night. All right with you?”
Lindsay managed a slightly unsteady, “Of course. Why shouldn’t it be?”
Dr. Corbett studied her with a curious intentness for a long moment, and then he said slowly, “To tell you the truth, I’m sorry now I asked him. But you and I will have other times to be alone together.”
And without waiting for an answer to that, he got into his car and drove off, leaving Lindsay to drop into the old swing as though her knees would no longer support her.
Chapter Seven
Alden was true to his promise and left the house immediately after breakfast each morning, taking with him a neatly packed lunch of sandwiches and a thermos of coffee that Lucy-Mae packed for him. He rarely returned until mid-afternoon, and then he paused only briefly to speak to Lindsay and went on upstairs, and she would hear his typewriter clacking busily away. At dinner he was an amusing, entertaining table companion. But afterwards he once more disappeared up the stairs, and the typewriter went into action again.
“I suppose, after all, he is a writer,” Miss Jennifer said reluctantly one evening when Lindsay was giving her her supper.
“It would seem so, wouldn’t it?” Lindsay agreed neutrally.
Miss Jennifer looked up at her, scowling.
“You haven’t been able to find out anything else about him?” she demanded accusingly.
“Now how could I possibly find out anything about him? Here, Aunt Jennifer, eat your pudding. It’s good for you,” Lindsay soothed her.
“It ought to be good for me. It tastes unpleasant enough,” Miss Jennifer complained.
“Why, Alden and I enjoyed it.”
“Oh, you call him Alden, do you?” Miss Jennifer pounced on that.
“Of course. It would be silly to be formal, since we live under the same roof.”
“Oh, since you know him well enough to call him by his first name, I see no reason you shouldn’t try to find out who he really is and what he’s doing here,” Miss Jennifer said firmly. “After all, you’re a woman and he’s a man; and you’re a good-looking woman. Imagine some people might even think you are beautiful. Me, I always think pretty is as pretty does.”
Lindsay said dryly, “So you always reminded me when I was growing up.”
“Didn’t seem to make much impression on you,” snapped Miss Jennifer.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Aunt Jennifer,” Lindsay said.
“It seems to me, Lindsay, that you might be sufficiently interested in the man to want to know something more about him than just that he claims to be a writer.” Miss Jennifer went back to worrying the subject, which Lindsay privately felt had long been worn threadbare. “Since we are two women alone here, having a strange man in the house could be dangerous.”
“It seems to me, Aunt Jennifer, that I tried to tell you that when he first wanted to come, but you wouldn’t listen,” Lindsay pointed out. She added, “But don’t worry. Dr. Corbett has investigated him and is quite sure that his presence here offers no threat to our safety.”
“Oh? And who asked Dr. Corbett to poke his nose into my affairs?”
“Nobody, of course. It was simply that he felt it his duty, and that’s a word I know you think very highly of.”
Miss Jennifer seemed not to have heard the jibe. She was lying back against her plump pillows, the ruffled nightcap tied beneath her chin, a thoughtful look in her eyes.
“So. Dr. Corbett is interested in you, is he?” she observed at last.
Pink stained Lindsay’s cheek, but she only said stiffly, “He is interested in the safety of both of us. After all, you’re his patient”
“Humph!” sneered Miss Jennifer and eyed Lindsay sharply. “Well, if Dr. Corbett is interested in you, that’s fine. And if this Mayhew decides to make a play for you, that ought to make things right lively in these parts.”
“Have you finished your supper, Aunt Jennifer?” Lindsay said coldly.
“Sure, sure, take it away. And I hope Lucy-Mae’s feeding Mayhew better than you’re feeding me, or he’ll be leaving before the week’s out,” said Miss Jennifer, waving away the tray on which every dish had been emptied despite her complaints about the food.
Monday evening when Dr. Corbett arrived for his date with Lindsay, she and Alden were waiting for him on the verandah, Lindsay looking lovely in a sheer printed voile frock of pale green sprinkled with tiny pastel-colored nosegays, a gardenia from the big bush at the corner of the verandah tucked into her hair.
Dr. Corbett eyed her happily and greeted Alden like an old friend.
“The only girl I’ve ever dated who is always ready when she says she’ll be,” he boasted.
“One thing an R.N. learns long before she becomes an R.N. is punctuality, Doctor.” Lindsay laughed, grateful that the warmth in her cheeks was hidden by the slow-gathering dusk.
“Look here, Doc,” said Alden worriedly when they went out to the car, “are you sure you want me to horn in on this date? Three’s a crowd; that’s an old and well-proven fact.”
Dr. Corbett looked down at Lindsay, and though his expression was grave, the twinkle in his eyes belied it.
“Do we really want him to go with us, Lindsay?” he asked.
Lindsay looked from one to the other and hated herself because her voice was not as light and airy as she would have wanted when she said gaily, “Well, of course we do!”
“Quite sure about that?” Alden persisted.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Lindsay protested, and got into the car. “If you’re going to write about the Bayou, you certainly must see the Village and the Tavern. So come on!”
Dr. Corbett and Alden exchanged laughing glances, and Dr. Corbett said firmly, “Well, you can tag along this time, Mayhew. But don’t let it become a habit, will you?”
“No, Doc, I
surely won’t,” Alden answered with a pretense of vast humility. “Maybe at the Tavern I can find myself a girl, and then we can double-date!”
“That,” Dr. Corbett said firmly as he slid behind the wheel and started the car, “is definitely out! No double-dates. I don’t approve of them. They restrict my activities.”
Lindsay gasped. But both men chuckled and she subsided.
The Tavern was doing an excellent business when they arrived, and Pete came hurrying to meet them, beaming, perspiring, welcoming them eagerly. As he showed them to a table, he told Lindsay, “Two of the shrimp-boats got in today. More are coming in tomorrow, and the snapper catch was good. You tell Miss Jennifer I’ll be out to see her in a few days.”
“I’ll tell her, Pete, and I’m so glad for you,” Lindsay said.
They were scarcely settled at their table, with Alden taking in the scene around him, when the jukebox blared forth and Jay came threading his way toward them, beaming happily, his handsome face flushed, his step not quite steady. Ignoring the two men, he leaned toward Lindsay and said, “How ’bout a dance, Lin?”
“Not now, thanks,” Lindsay said curtly.
Jay flushed darkly.
“Oh, too good for your old friends, huh? Now that you’re a high-and-mighty trained nurse, you’re too good for the likes of me, huh?” he blustered.
“That’s it exactly, Hutchens,” said Dr. Corbett shortly. “She’s much too good for the likes of you, especially when you’re drunk. Now run away and leave her alone.”
“Oh, now, please,” Lindsay protested, flushed and very uncomfortable because the eyes of the whole roomful of people were on their table.
Jay looked down at her, at Dr. Corbett and finally at Alden. Then he shrugged, and his mouth was a thin, ugly line.
“Sure, sure, I don’t want no trouble. Plenty o’ gals I can dance with here,” he growled as he turned away.
“One of these days,” said Alden softly, his fist clenched, “I’m going to have the vast pleasure of kicking that guy’s teeth in.”
“You’ll take your turn, feller. I’ve got first crack at him!” said Dr. Corbett grimly. “He’s a trouble-maker and at the bottom of most of the skullduggery here at the Village.”
“Please sit down, both of you,” Lindsay begged. “He’s drunk. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.”
“You’re not sure of anything of the kind,” said Alden. “He wasn’t drunk the day he brought me out to Bayou House, and you will remember he was pretty unpleasant that day.”
“Well, after all, I did go to school with him,” Lindsay pointed out, trying hard for a light note.
“Well, shame on you!” said Alden.
“I didn’t really have any choice,” Lindsay defended herself. “There was only one school, and we both had to attend it.”
“And I suppose you are going to tell us that he was really a very nice boy,” Dr. Corbett accused her.
Lindsay laughed and shook her head.
“No, he was a very nasty, mean little boy. But he took my part against the others,” she answered. “If anybody was going to drop a bug down my back or scare me to death by turning a snake loose in front of me, he was going to be the one to do it.”
“That I can believe. Sounds quite in character for him.” Alden nodded. “I gathered, when I was gathering material for the article about him, that he was pretty much that kind of a lad and always had been.”
“So you wrote an article about him?” Dr. Corbett asked.
“Well, he is a colorful character, sort of representative of the Bayou and its denizens,” Alden defended him-self.
Dr. Corbett looked about the crowded room, thick with smoke, raucous with the sound of voices, laughter and the juke box.
“Fairly representative at that, I suppose,” he agreed. He looked at Lindsay and added, “Aren’t you going to defend the Bayou against us outsiders?”
Lindsay’s brows went up.
“Why should I? I’m an outsider, too—thanks be!” she answered. “And the minute Amalie is able to return to Bayou House, I’m going back outside and hope to stay there!”
“Nobody can blame you for that, surely!” Dr. Corbett smiled at her. “And I’m hoping it can be soon, too.”
“Thanks,” said Lindsay gratefully.
Dr. Corbett hesitated, his brows drawn together in an uneasy scowl. Suddenly he spoke as though he had just reached a decision.
“In fact, Lindsay, it may be even sooner than you expect,” he said quietly.
Lindsay caught her breath, and her eyes flew wide.
“You mean Amalie’s improving faster than I’d dared hope?”
“I mean it’s quite unlikely that Amalie will ever be able to return to Bayou House,” Dr. Corbett said flatly. “Dr. Potter and I have been scouting around for a replacement for her, and we have hopes that we have found one, as soon as she has a bit more training.”
Lindsay’s face fell and she shook her head.
“Aunt Jennifer would never accept a stranger at Bayou House,” she pointed out. “Not while I am a nurse and available.”
“Aunt Jennifer’s not going to have anything to say about it, as soon as we feel Clara is capable of taking over,” Dr. Corbett answered. “She has been a ward maid at the hospital. She’s a woman in her early fifties, strong as a horse, in perfect health, a widow. She’s ‘all-soul-alone’ in the world, as she expresses it, and anxious to find a place that she can call her home. She is being trained to look after a woman in Miss Jennifer’s condition, which, as we all know, does not require a great deal of nursing skill. It’s a pure waste for a nurse of your skill and capabilities to be stuck with a patient in Miss Jennifer’s condition. Clara Bates is perfectly capable of giving Miss Jennifer her daily bath and waiting on her; and she is tickled to death at the thought that she is being trained for such a job. Another couple of weeks and Dr. Potter will be bringing her out to meet Miss Jennifer, and to take you back to the bus station, where you can get the bus back to the hospital.”
Lindsay had listened eagerly but with growing depression.
“Aunt Jennifer will never consent,” she said heavily.
“So Aunt Jennifer won’t consent,” said Dr. Corbett grimly. “But she really won’t have anything to say about it. She can either accept Clara as an attendant, or she can stay alone with the two servants. And she won’t like that.”
Before Lindsay could manage an answer, he added sternly, “And if you open your lovely mouth to mention the word ‘duty,’ I’ll smack you!”
Lindsay laughed.
“Well, after all—” she began.
“After all, your aunt merely needs somebody to wait on her, to give her her bath and what little medication she requires,” he interrupted her. “And whatever obligation you may have had toward her, you have long ago discharged. So shut up about your ‘duty’ and get busy planning to return to a job where I’m sure you are needed much more than you are at Bayou House.”
Alden said mildly, “Of course I know I have no right to stick my nose into this interesting discussion, but I could just barely endure to know why, if this Clara person is standing in the wings ready to go on for Lindsay, you felt it was necessary to send for Lindsay in the first place?”
“That’s a good question, Mayhew,” Corbett answered. “The reason was that at the moment Dr. Potter sent for Lindsay, he knew nothing about Clara Bates and her potentialities. She was just another ward maid, and he was scarcely aware of her. It was Amalie who struck up a friendship with Clara and asked Dr. Potter why she couldn’t be trained to take over her job at Bayou House. Amalie has known from the first, although she refused until just a few days ago to admit it, that she won’t be returning there; that she may very well be a wheel chair case herself for a long time to come.”
Alden nodded. “That makes a lot of sense,” he agreed.
<
br /> Dr. Corbett grinned.
“So glad you think so,” he drawled politely, and turned to Lindsay. “Does it make you feel any better to know you don’t have to be buried here until an old woman’s broken hip mends?”
“Well, yes, of course, it does,” Lindsay answered. “But I dread the scene when we tell Aunt Jennifer I’m walking out on her.”
“We’ll have Clara on hand when that time comes, and Clara can have the job of convincing Miss Jennifer that she will be as well taken care of as if you were devoting the balance of your life to that job.”
Lindsay could not control a small shiver.
“What a gruesome thought!” she protested.
Dr. Corbett nodded and glanced once more about the room.
“I share that emotion,” he admitted. “I have six more months here, and seeing you leave is going to be a bitter dose to swallow. But at least we will have the consolation of knowing we’ll meet again somewhere.”
Alden chuckled.
“The orchestra will now play ‘Hearts in Three Quarter Time,’ while the camera pans to a green hillside, daisy-pied, where two lovers are lost in each other’s arms; fade-out,” he intoned in the softly modulated tone of a TV announcer.
Dr. Corbett eyed him without fondness.
“At the moment, I can’t remember just why I asked you to join us this evening,” he said flatly.
Alden grinned, completely undisturbed, his eyes twinkling.
“I can’t either,” he admitted. “I thought you were out of your mind when you invited me, but that it was just old-fashioned Southern hospitality like you read about in books,” he said cheerfully.
“Maybe it was, at that!” Dr. Corbett grinned back at him, and the tension was eased.
Later, when they had driven back to Bayou House and Dr. Corbett had stopped the car in the drive, Alden said cheerfully, “You can run along now, Corbett; I’ll walk Lindsay to the door.”
Dr. Corbett said grimly, “Get lost!”
Alden chuckled. “But I live here, remember?”
“I wish I could forget it!” snapped Dr. Corbett.
Lindsay said, “Good night, and thanks for a lovely evening, both of you.”
The Nurse Novel Page 23
