“Unfortunately, too many people in this town are foolish. And his wife’s dying in childbirth didn’t help. Three people he treated died of influenza over the winter, and then, recently, that Bowman woman.”
“Joanna Bowman died because of a fire, not because of her treatment.”
Miss Shaw was probably in her thirties, a slim dark-haired woman with a pleasant face. She raised a hand. “You and I know that. I just wonder if the rest of this town will figure it out.”
She poked her needle through the fabric and stretched the thread taut.
Ellie studied her and wondered what she did and why she lived in the boardinghouse. But Ellie wasn’t one to ask questions. She respected privacy. “What are you making?”
“A pillow.”
Ellie stepped closer and noted the pair of cardinals the woman had so deftly created with her needle and thread. The birds seemed to be merely resting on a slender limb before returning to flight. “I’ve never seen anything so pretty,” Ellie said with heartfelt admiration.
Miss Shaw inserted the needle and plucked it back out a few times. “They’re just simple stitches.”
“Well, it’s beautiful.”
She looked up at Ellie. “I certainly don’t need another pillow. My room is full of pillows and wall samplers. But it passes the time.” She bent her head over her work again.
Ellie sensed her loneliness. Single women were scarce in Kansas. Why hadn’t Miss Shaw married?
The sound of hooves and harness rings made Ellie turn. Caleb halted the buggy at the foot of the stairs.
“Afternoon, Miss Shaw,” he said politely, touching the brim of his hat as he rounded in front of the horses. He’d hitched two to the buggy this day.
“Dr. Chaney,” she replied. “Lovely day for a ride.”
“Yes, it is.” He assisted Ellie onto the seat. She turned to find Nate asleep in a padded basket on the wide bench in the back. Caleb climbed back up and slapped the reins over the horses’ rumps.
Ellie gave Miss Shaw a hesitant wave. “Is she one of your patients?”
“She’s come to see me a time or two,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered. Will there be many people at the ranch for dinner?” she asked after they’d left the streets of the town behind.
“Hard to say,” he replied with a grin. “My sister and her family. Quite often the preacher is there.”
Ellie observed the surrounding ranch country, noting the direction and the road she’d never traveled before. The day was warm, but Caleb hadn’t rolled back his shirtsleeves. She plucked at the front of her blouse. She’d never ridden in such a fine vehicle before J.J. had picked her up in this one. She realized it was the same buggy.
“This is your buggy?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Do you call on patients during the week?”
“A few. I’m still working on building up my practice.”
“I think you’re a very good doctor.”
He turned his gaze to her. “I wish a few more people thought that.”
“They will.”
He grinned.
She smiled shyly and looked away.
“This is all Chaney land,” he said several miles later.
Ellie gazed in awe at the grazing cattle on the far horizon. “All this?”
“Yep. My father wanted me work the ranch with him. Take over one day. I disappointed him by becoming a doctor.”
“You didn’t want to ranch?”
“Ranching’s all right. But ever since I can remember I wanted to help people. I wanted to know how to heal them. I placed my share of the Arabians and a bull up for sale so I could afford my schooling. My father wasn’t very happy about it, but once he found out I was serious, he bought the stock from me. Since I wasn’t there, he had to hire a foreman and that cut into his profits.”
Ellie listened and thought about what he was telling her.
“The thing is, I understand his feelings. He’s getting older. He wants someone to take over the ranch he worked his whole life to build. I’m his only son.”
Ellie glanced up and caught his handsome profile against the cloudless sky.
“Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing,” he said. “Maybe I should have listened to him and saved myself the expense and the trouble.”
“But look how many people you’ve helped,” she said in surprise.
“Not that many.”
“You helped me.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Just about any ranch hand can set a broken arm, Ellie.”
She was taken aback. Where was the confidence he’d always projected? How could he even think for a minute that his work wasn’t valuable?
“There’s the house,” he said before she could pull any more thoughts together.
To the east of impressive whitewashed stables sat a two-story house. The yard—if an expanse the size of a field could be called that—was bordered by a pine pole fence and dotted with shade trees and evergreens. The long drive was free of ruts and weeds, and the horse pulled them to a stop beneath the shade of a towering oak behind the house.
“Mother will give me a tongue-lashing for bringing you in through the kitchen.” He reached for Nate, who was starting to fuss.
“Maybe we shouldn’t then.”
“Nah. It wouldn’t be near as much fun.”
Ellie followed him up the porch stairs. He held the door open and she stopped uncertainly.
“Go ahead.”
Her heart hammered at the prospect of entering his family’s home, and she fought the urge to turn back and run. She stepped inside.
The kitchen was enormous and mouth-watering aromas emanated from it.
“Caleb! You should have brought Miss Parrish to the front door,” his mother said, rushing forward. “You’d think this boy was raised in a barn. I apologize for my son’s lack of manners, Miss Parrish.”
“I—I don’t mind.”
Caleb cast her a grin.
“Let’s see Nathaniel!” another woman said, moving up to touch the baby.
“Ellie, this is Mildred,” he said, kissing the woman on the cheek. “She’s my other mother.”
The woman with faded red hair and vibrant dark eyes patted Caleb’s shoulder fondly. “I work for Mrs. Chaney,” she said to Ellie. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Ellie said, using her words. They must have been appropriate, because Mildred smiled.
Caleb’s mother caught sight of something through the window that brought a broad smile to her face. She hurried to the doorway.
A fair-haired girl of about five ran up the stairs and into her waiting arms. “Don’t you look beautiful today, Lucy!”
“Mama made this dress for me an’ I wore it to church an’ then I wore it all the way here to show you.” She spun in a circle, the frilly dotted Swiss pinafore billowing.
“Unca Caleb!” she cried, spotting her uncle and running toward him.
“Lucy, Lucy,” her mother chided from the doorway. “A lady moves slowly and gracefully.”
Caleb handed Nate to Ellie and quickly bent at the knees to pick up the little girl, who immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed his neck. He hugged her soundly and she placed a kiss on his tanned cheek. “Best kiss I had all week,” he said with a wink.
She giggled.
“Lucy, Patricia, Denzil, this is Miss Ellie Parrish, Nate’s new nursemaid. Ellie, this is my sister, Patricia, her husband, Denzil, and my pretty niece, Lucy.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Ellie said again.
“Delighted,” Caleb’s fair-skinned sister replied. She wore a fashionable pin-striped green dress with a white bodice. She pulled the pin from a matching hat.
“Miss Parrish,” the tall gentleman said with a nod. He was dressed as nicely as Caleb, in dark trousers and a white shirt and tie.
“Lucy, what do you say to Miss Parrish?” her mother asked quiet
ly.
“How do you do, Miss Parrish,” she said, around the finger she’d stuck in her mouth.
Lucy’s lesson in manners placed Ellie in an embarrassing position. She had no inkling of the appropriate response. She felt her cheeks grow warm.
“You have eyes just like your uncle,” she said without thinking.
That must have pleased her, because the finger popped out of her mouth. She grinned and gazed at Caleb adoringly. “I do?”
He kissed her cheek and set her back on the floor. “Where’s that grandfather of yours?”
“He’s probably sneaked back to the stables to stare at his Welsh cob,” Caleb’s mother said wryly. “I don’t think he paid this much attention when I gave birth. Lucy, why don’t you go tell Grandpapa that dinner’s almost ready?”
Lucy clambered out the door, and her mother rolled her eyes.
Denzil followed at a more sedate pace. Patricia removed her hat to reveal upswept fair hair, held in place by pearl-studded combs. She carried her hat and bag to a cabinet where she stored them, then immediately opened a drawer and pulled out an apron. Obviously at ease and in familiar surroundings, she tied it around her narrow waist. Ellie could taste her discomfort at being out of place.
Mildred took Nate from her arms and tied him upright in a well-worn high chair. Immediately Ellie missed the security of hiding behind him.
“May I help, too?” she asked uneasily.
“You’re company,” Caleb’s mother said quickly, discouraging the idea. “And besides, your arm is in a cast.”
Ellie’s face flamed at the rejection. She’d blundered already.
“Ellie’s obviously not helpless,” Caleb said, “since she takes care of Nate every day. And she fixes my meals without help.”
Patricia glanced from her brother to Ellie, and a look of understanding passed across her features. Once again she opened the cabinet and withdrew a folded apron.
Caleb took it from her with a grin and shook it open. “Here, Ellie. Let me help. Hold your arm out.”
Ellie did as instructed and he reached both arms around her to catch the apron ties. She experienced a moment’s panic at the restricting closeness, but the next second he was behind her tying the sash, and the feeling passed.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Why don’t you help set the table?” Caleb’s mother suggested.
She had read the section on table settings. She’d practiced with Caleb’s dishes and silverware. She moved stiffly to the trestle table. “Where are the plates?”
“Not this table,” Patricia said kindly, coming to her side and leading her out of the room and into another. “This one.”
“Oh my…” Ellie caught her breath. The room in which they stood was elegantly furnished with a glossy walnut table that stretched eight feet or more and stood surrounded by cushioned straight-backed chairs. An enormous glass-paned cabinet on one wall held gold-rimmed dishes.
“The silver is in this drawer,” Patricia explained, “the tablecloths and napkins in here. We usually set for about ten. If there are extra settings when we get seated, that’s fine.”
Ellie stared at the table, at the intimidating size and decor of the room. Her knees trembled. What if she dropped one of those plates? What if she spilled while she was eating?
“What happened to your arm?” Patricia asked.
She took out a pressed white linen cloth and shook it out above the table. The fabric floated down a little to one side, with only a few wrinkles that needed straightening. “I fell off the platform at the train depot.”
“How awful! Are you from around here?”
Ellie smoothed out wrinkles, hoping her hands were clean. She should have washed them in the kitchen. “No. I’m from up by Florence.”
“Really? That’s where we live. I’ve lived there since I married Denzil—about six years now. Whereabouts did you live?”
“Um. Outside town really.”
“Parrish. Hmm. I can’t place the name.”
Ellie closed her eyes and stood in the overwhelming silence that followed. What if Patricia went back home and asked about her? No worry, she reminded herself. No one knew her as Parrish. She’d made that name up. Besides, there were many families who lived outside of town and came in only occasionally for supplies, and Ellie had never attended school regularly. As outcasts, she and her brothers stayed to themselves. She opened her eyes and discovered the young woman was simply going about her tasks.
Patricia opened the china cabinet and took out a stack of plates. She started placing them at intervals around the table and Ellie followed her lead.
She opened the drawer Patricia had indicated and counted out ten pressed and folded napkins. She handed half to Patricia and waited for her to place one at the left of a plate, and then added hers.
She did the same with the silver, counting forks and knives and spoons, handing her half, then mimicking how she placed them. Patricia did it just as the Episcopal ladies had instructed, and Ellie followed her example without a hitch.
Ellie’s first experience with seeing huge quantities of elegantly prepared food had been at the Arcade Hotel, but it never ceased to astound her that people went to so much work and expense. She’d spent too many years scraping for enough to keep herself and her brothers alive.
As the family gathered around the table, the women carried in a platter of curried lamb and bowls of steaming savory-smelling yams and other vegetables.
Ellie studied the food in the gold-edged china dishes and thought of the simple fare she’d taken such pleasure and pride in preparing and serving to Caleb. What must he think of her pathetic attempts? Her humiliation knew no bounds.
“Afternoon, Miss Parrish,” Caleb’s father said, arriving and standing behind his chair at the head of the table.
She’d been standing back, waiting to see where the others sat. Her heart tripped a little faster at his recognition. “Hello.”
Caleb carried Nate, high chair and all, into the room and situated him near his own chair. He gestured for her to move beside him. She stood behind the chair he’d indicated the same way the men were standing.
“Ellie, this is Reverend Beecher,” Caleb’s father said.
“How do you do?” the gentleman said with a polite nod.
Ellie nodded back.
“This is our ranch foreman, Hayden, and his brother, Soapy.”
Ellie nodded again.
Soapy was the only one who seemed as uncomfortable as Ellie. He said something in his brother’s ear and Hayden said, “Soapy says he’s pleased to meetcha.”
Caleb grinned and touched Ellie’s arm, urging her forward. She thought of nothing but his fingers through her sleeve until he slid out the chair and urged her to sit.
Recalling the table-manners section of the cookbook, she sat at the same time he slid the chair in closer. Caleb’s father did the same for his mother and Denzil assisted his wife and daughter. Ellie measured the distance between her midriff and the table edge with a nervous glance.
Lucy was seated directly across from Caleb and Ellie, and she gave her uncle a broad grin. “I saw a frog last night, Unca Caleb,” she said. “It was jumping by my steps.”
“Did it scare you?”
She shook her head importantly. “No. It was just a baby frog. It was looking for its mama, I think.”
“I’ll bet you’re right.”
“Mama, do I have to eat yams?”
“Just a small portion, Lucy, to be polite.” Her mother placed a small dab of the orange glazed vegetable on her plate and reprimanded her pout with a raised brow. “Lucille…”
The child wore a disgusted expression and frowned as her plate was filled.
Having to encourage a child to eat was beyond Ellie’s experience. She’d only known hungry children who gobbled up whatever scrap was placed in front of them.
“I’m five,” the child reported, holding up all the fingers on one hand to demonstrate.
El
lie gave her a smile, noting the girl’s obvious comfort within the circle of her family and in their elegant home. The child showed no signs of neglect or fear or abuse. She was the apple of this family’s eye.
Years ago Ellie had stumbled through the night to find a home for a baby girl. So many times she had wondered how the child had fared. So many times she’d wished she could see for herself if she’d done the right thing. But she’d never allowed herself to check.
The reasons for cutting herself off were complicated. And painful.
She had to believe that the child had a home and a family like Lucy’s, that she was secure and pampered in the midst of people who loved her and saw to her well-being. Anything else was unthinkable.
Caleb’s mother raised a brow at Ellie. “Are you finding the food to your satisfaction, Miss Parrish?”
“Oh, yes.” Ellie glanced down to see she hadn’t touched anything on her plate. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her fork.
“Caleb, you oaf,” Patricia said from beside Ellie. “You haven’t cut Ellie’s meat for her. How can she be expected to do it with one arm?” She reached over and sliced the lamb on Ellie’s plate into dainty bites.
“I guess I’m just used to Ellie managing everything with one arm,” Caleb replied with a grin. “Sorry, El. Poke me in the ribs next time.”
Patricia slid Ellie’s plate back in place, and Ellie speared a bite.
“Hayden and Soapy are going to get ice later, so we can make ice cream,” Caleb’s father said.
Lucy squealed and bounced up and down in her chair. “I love ice cream!”
“Mind your manners, Lucy,” Patricia said quietly. “Eat your yam or you won’t get any ice cream.”
Lucy stilled on her chair and looked around with a frown.
Patricia involved herself in a conversation with Denzil and her mother.
Mildred brought hot rolls and served them to each person.
“Mildred doesn’t eat with your family?” Ellie whispered to Caleb.
“No. She works for Mother.”
Ellie blinked. “I work for you, but I’m eating at the table.”
Caleb glanced past Ellie’s shoulder. Reaching across the table, he speared the yam on Lucy’s plate and popped it into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “You’re not kitchen help.”
The Doctor's Wife Page 7
