Katie's Maverick (Strasburg: The New Generation Book 2)

by Pippa Greathouse

  A scowl was sent his way before she sighed. "But what if he's not there? The doctor?"

  "Then I wanted to be alone with you, anyway." He was grinning.

  "You were downstairs a long time."

  "True. I was speaking with Louisa, Mrs. Andrews, and your grandmother."

  She was silent, waiting on what he would say. Finally, she asked, "You didn't believe me?"

  "It had nothing to do with not believing you. I just wanted to make sure I got the whole story. I knew Miss Watson was trying to get at you. It's almost as if she is daring me to correct her. But I won't."

  But as he got her to the walk, she glared at him. "You can't be serious!"

  "I'm very serious. You see, Katie, discipline should be given out of love. I have no love for Phebe Watson. I don't think I ever did. If she wishes that as a demonstration, she's thinking along the wrong lines. The only person I love enough to take responsibility for her behavior is you. And this wasn't your fault."

  Katie looked up at him. "I don't know what to say."

  He glanced down at her. "You don't have to say anything. You're stuck with me. And my discipline, but only when it's needed."

  She sighed, leaning her head against his chest. Guarding her arm, he tightened his arms around her. Just then, however, he caught a glimpse of her slippered feet. "Katie, where are your boots?"

  "At home."

  He rolled his eyes. "Why?"

  "It wasn't snowing when I left home yesterday."

  A light dusting of snow had covered them both as they reached the doctor's office.

  "I hope he's here. We should have wrapped it in ice, already. Perhaps it wouldn't have swelled so much."

  "Nick, I'm telling you, it's fine."

  "It looks terrible. And don't raise your voice to me."

  Katie stared upward, suddenly. "Look, Nick, I…" Her throat had suddenly gone dry. "I don't think I need to see him. Honest, it'll be all right."

  Nick studied her. "You're frightened."

  "No, I-I just don't think there's any need." She felt her eyes grow wide but couldn't seem to help it. "I've changed my mind," she said suddenly. "I want to go back to the church."

  Nick's voice was firm. "Oh, no, you don't. We'll get this looked at and then we'll go back. Katie—" He paused. Her eyes were round, wide, and frightened. "Katie, I'll be with you. I promise. I'll even hold you if you want. But this has to be looked at."

  She was blinking; the wariness in her vivid blue eyes gave her away. She was terrified.

  "Come, sweetheart. I'll be with you every minute, I promise."

  "No." she whispered, reaching out to grab hold of the side of the door with her good hand, she did her best to halt his progress.

  Inside, Dr. Bilkey stood to his feet as he heard them.

  "Ah. Not another sore throat, I hope? Hello, Miss Katie, Nick."

  "No. Sore wrist. Why, is there something going around?"

  "Tonsillitis. I've seen seven little ones with it, today. Katie, what's going on? You don't appear very happy to see me."

  Nick set her down and took hold of her arm, holding it out as the doctor whistled. "You need to get some ice on this."

  "We were hoping you could tell us it wasn't broken. I wasn't sure what to do."

  The doctor gave them a reassuring smile. "Come here. Let's take a look."

  Katie seemed glued to the floor, but her eyes were glued to Nick's face, pleading. Finally, he glanced at the doctor and picked her up, setting her up on the exam table. Sitting down next to her, he put an arm around her waist. His other, he moved to her cheek as she leaned against his shoulder.

  Dr. Bilkey smiled. "I'll be as gentle as I can, Katie. Let me take a look." He waited until she took a breath, then took her wrist, examined it carefully, glancing up every few seconds to gage her reaction. He stopped a moment and looked down, frowning. Then, suddenly, he tugged, hard.

  Katie's shriek of pain filled the room, and Nick held her close, pressing her head to his chest.

  "Shh, Katie. I've got you," he whispered.

  "Now. Don't move. Nick, hold her still while I get the materials I need."

  "It's broken?" Katie's face was pale. "Y-you mean you'll have to s-set it?"

  "No. I mean I just did. Now, I have to fix it in place so it stays that way. How did you do this?"

  She looked up at Nick, who was watching her closely. "I fell," she whispered.

  "And tossed a bowl of soup across the room," Nick added, giving her a smile and a wink.

  She glared.

  Dr. Bilkey looked curiously from one to the other. "There's a story behind that, I've no doubt."

  Katie began to watch the doctor carefully as he pushed over a small table. He measured two pieces of wood, to use as splints, reaching from her elbow to her fingers, wrapping a bandage from one end to the other. More bandages followed and then two more splints. After a bit, an oilcloth was wrapped around it. By the time he was finished, the cloth went from her elbow to her fingers and was big and bulky.

  Katie stared at it. "It's tight. How am I supposed to help serve in this?"

  "You're right handed?"

  She nodded.

  "Simple." Dr. Bilkey frowned. "Don't. Don't twist it. Don't pull with it. And most of all, don't lean on it. I'm fixing you up with a sling, and hopefully, it'll remind you not to use it for a few weeks."

  She sighed, leaning back against Nick's chest. "A terrible time to have this happen," she scowled.

  "Trust me, Katie, when I say there is never a good time to break a bone," Dr. Bilkey said in a firm voice. "But please believe me, when I tell you this—if you disregard my advice and re-injure it, it may take you months, not weeks, to recover." He nodded, when he saw her eyes grow wide. "You're ready to go. Nick, if she needs something for pain, give her some of this. Here." He reached into his cabinet and handed Nick a small bottle and wrote on a small piece of paper. Laudanum. One teaspoon when the pain gets bad. Three times a day or so. "Make sure you give it to her before bedtime the first few nights, or she won't sleep." He pushed the little supply table back against the wall. "Oh, one more thing. I heard earlier that the wolves are getting close to town. Apparently, the weather's gotten too cold, and with all the snow, they're having to scavenge for food. Abel Carter was in earlier today and said his neighbor shot one this morning. Be careful."

  Nick nodded. "Will do. I'm surprised we hadn't heard."

  "Is everyone there all right, or do I need to come and check on someone?"

  "Gleason," Katie said quietly. "He stayed out too long yesterday in the cold and slipped on the ice when he took the horses back and had trouble getting into the stables. He's been sleeping a lot since then, and he doesn't look good. And it wouldn't hurt to check on Mrs. Billings, although she claims she's warmed up now."

  Dr. Bilkey glanced from Katie to Nick. "I'm on my way."

  "We'll see you there. But we need to stop by the General Store, first."

  "Get the sign, will you?"

  Nick nodded in agreement. "Be glad to." He lifted Katie down, kissing her forehead. "You heard what he said about injuring your arm further, short stuff. That's why I insisted on bringing you. It wouldn't have healed, and suppose you'd continued using it and you did more damage?"

  She looked down at the sling that plastered her arm to her chest and shook her head. "How can I be of any help at the church like this?"

  "You won't. You'll rest." Wrapping her blanket back around her, he led her to the outside, turning the sign on the door as he left so it read 'Be back soon' from the outside. Lifting her once again, he strode down the block to the General Store and opened it. As the bell tinkled, Katie looked inside. Sam Greene nodded toward them.

  "Hello, Nick. Afternoon, Katie. You're the second set of customers we've had in here all day. What can I help you with?"

  "This young lady managed to leave home without her boots," Nick answered, setting her down on the countertop. "Do you have something to fit her?"

  "I think
so. Size?"

  "Five."

  He came back a few moments later with a pair and handed them to Nick. Katie pushed the blanket back and reached for them with her good hand, but he gave her a stern glance and moved them out of her reach.

  "What did you do to your arm, Miss Katie?"

  "I fell, sir."

  Nick, placing his large hand around her right ankle, ignored her silent gasp.

  She blinked, locking eyes with his. A tingle had made it all the way up her leg from his touch as he slid the boot on and laced it up. Why did he do this to her every single time he touched her?

  "How does it feel?"

  She swallowed, her mouth dry. "A little stiff," she said in a husky voice.

  He grasped her left this time, watching her face, and then grinned, as if he knew exactly the kind of reaction he was evoking in her. She fixed her glare on him, but her eyes were wide.

  Then, taking her by the waist, he stood her on her feet. "Take a few steps and see how they feel. I don't want them to be uncomfortable or you won't wear them."

  Katie turned in a small circle, nodding. "They're fine."

  Nick looked toward Sam. "She'll wear them," he said, dropping her slippers into his pockets and pulling out his billfold.

  Katie reached out to stop him. "No, I can pay for them. It isn't your fault—"

  But Nick had already put the bills on the counter, and Sam was chuckling.

  "Too late, Katie. Perhaps next time. Nick, is there anything else you all need for the church while everyone is there? Natalie and I want to help if we can. Blankets? Sugar? Flour?"

  Nick nodded. "I'm sure the ladies cooking would be most appreciative. Can I come back by after I get Katie back to the church?"

  Sam's eyebrows rose. "Certainly. I'll get it together. Watch that arm, Katie. Have you seen the doctor?"

  "Yes, sir. It's nothing."

  Nick wrapped the blanket back around her. Glancing over his shoulder at Sam, he made a face. "It's nothing, she says. Only a broken wrist."

  He had her inside the church before she tapped him on the shoulder. "Don't forget to pick up blankets. And the flour. And the sugar."

  "Bossy. After I get you inside, yes. Not before."

  Katie was hurting too much to argue. She said nothing as he carried her up the steps and inside the building, and when he set her down on the pew, she stayed there.

  Nick watched her from the corner of his eye as he prepared a cot on the top floor next to the hearth. He wrapped her up in a blanket and a quilt, with only her arm outside the blanket. A towel bundled around her wrist, he packed snow over it as the Dr. ordered.

  Dr. Bilkey drew him aside as he prepared to leave. "Mrs. Billings is fine now. I suspect she doesn't keep her house warm enough at home."

  "It was definitely cold when I went in to get her yesterday."

  "Someone needs to look after her at home more carefully. We all need to be thinking about that." He glanced back toward Gleason Carter. "I think Gleason will be all right. His chest sounds clear. Heart is steady and strong. He most likely developed hypothermia when he fell yesterday and couldn't make it into the stable. Keep him inside and next to the fire, and I'd suggest you keep Katie there, too." After twenty-four hours, you can stop the ice, and after another day or so, she can have heat on it. Give the laudanum, whether she asks for it or not, for the first couple of days. And I'd like more details about the fall."

  Nick folded his arms and leaned back. "I'll tell you, since she obviously won't." He explained what he'd found when he came down the steps and found her. He also related what her grandmother had told him.

  Dr. Bilkey raised both brows. "I see. Keep her up here, then. Consider that medical advice, if you will. Don't let her go down unless you're with her."

  "Understood."

  "I'll be in the office or in my house. Don't hesitate to come and get me if you need to."

  Nick watched him go and glanced over toward Katie. She was lying on her back, her small face pale. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell she wasn't sleeping. Two little dimples still creased the bridge of her nose, and he knew she was still in pain.

  He reached into his pocket and moved to the base of the steps, meeting the gaze of Marilyn Thatcher.

  She hurried over to him, frowning. "It was broken, wasn't it?"

  "Yes, ma'am. It's been set, but I need to give her some laudanum. A…" He pulled the bottle out and read the instructions. "Teaspoon."

  "I'll be right back. Is she awake enough to talk to me?"

  "Yes, but I suspect she won't be long, after she takes this."

  A moment later, she brought him the spoon but followed him up the steps. She stood in the stairwell, watching as Nick leaned down and touched her granddaughter's face, ever so gently.

  "Sweetheart," he said softly, "I want you to take some of this."

  "It'll make me sleepy," she protested.

  "Perhaps, but you need some relief from pain. Here. Your grandmother is upstairs."

  He poured the liquid into the teaspoon and then eased his left arm under her to lift her. She took it, and he lowered her back down, catching a glimpse of Marilyn at the top of the stairs, smiling. Capping the bottle, he walked toward Mrs. Thatcher.

  "I hope that Francis has given you his consent for her hand."

  "As a matter of fact, he has. Thank you, ma'am."

  She nodded. "Come and get me when she wakes up. I'll bring up something for her to eat."

  And she was gone.

  Urgent need

  Katie slept a long time. When she finally awakened, it was with an urgent need to use the chamber pot. Nick had kept fresh snow on her arm, and when she pushed herself up with her left arm, she realized her pain was less severe.

  "Katie? What do you need?"

  "The bath," she said. "But it's downstairs."

  "I'll take you down."

  She locked eyes with his. "You can't go into the bath with me."

  "Can't I?" An eyebrow rose, accompanied by a grin.

  "Absolutely not."

  He chuckled. "I just want to make sure you get down the stairs, Katie. Relax. Besides that, Dr. Bilkey told me not to leave you alone on the same floor as Miss Watson—for any reason."

  A sigh escaped. "All right, then. Hurry it up."

  "Brat. If you hadn't just broken your wrist, I'd smack you. There has to be a place to wall off a chamber pot for you up here so you don't have to go downstairs every time. We'll figure something out."

  A groan escaped her. "We are not having this conversation, Nicholas Wellington."

  "Oh, but we are. Give me your good hand."

  When she refused, he put an arm about her waist and lifted her, tucking her under his arm.

  "Nick," she said, wiggling. "Let go of me!"

  Instead, he held her tighter to him, setting her down on the floor only when they reached the basement. The lanterns were lit, and she looked around, attempting to smile. She turned right into the bath that was around the corner and closed the door behind her.

  Nick waited. And waited. With all the ladies sitting on their cots smiling with amusement at him, he finally knocked on the door. "Katie? Do you need some help?"

  "No!" she shouted, from inside.

  "Then hurry up."

  "Leave me alone!" Her voice sounded strangled.

  He looked toward Marilyn Thatcher, who began to move toward the bath. But just then, the door burst open, and Katie erupted from it like a tiny volcano, stomping through the room and up the stairwell.

  He caught up with her halfway up the stairs.

  "What in the world is wrong with you?" he growled in her ear.

  She whirled around to face him, anger sparking in her eyes. Quietly, she leaned forward, glaring into his face.

  "You broke your right wrist when you were eighteen. I remember."

  "Yes. What's that have to do with anything?"

  "Why didn't you tell me just how hard it would be to hold my skirts up out of the way and wipe my
butt with the wrong hand?" she hissed, grabbing the banister and stomping up the rest of the stairs.

  Nick stood there, speechless, for about ten seconds. Suddenly, unable to help himself, he threw back his hand and howled with laughter.

  He hadn't the heart to tell her he was left-handed.

  Healing

  Katie finally managed, on the third day, to get Nick to let her go down to the basement. She was becoming impatient to see everyone. He had made her a private screened-in area on the other side of the sanctuary and hung blankets around it. Behind it was a chamber pot. Katie grinned at him as she realized the irony of the situation. Nick had taken over the serving of coffee and tea upstairs; he even emptied the chamber pot for her. He was now playing the part of the servant, and she was the one being waited on.

  At first, the thought of a chamber pot in the sanctuary horrified her. But Father Michael didn't seem to mind at all.

  She realized the door on the sanctuary led to a small bedroom for Father Michael, something she'd never thought about until Father Michael offered it to her. He thought the bed in there would be more comfortable. Katie refused, as much as she'd love to have slept on a bed again. Father Michael was aging; he needed it.

  The swelling had gone down a good bit in her wrist now, and she was thankful for it. Gleason seemed to be more energetic. He was eating well and seemed chatty and quite eager to get home. Katie only had one worry—Mrs. Billings.

  "Nick, I want to go to the basement," she said that morning. "I want to see Mrs. Billings and the other ladies. It's lonely up here."

  "You have me. Why would you be lonely?" His eyes were twinkling with amusement, and she knew he was teasing her.

  "I'm talking about girl chat. I want to check on Mrs. Billings. And I miss Lizzie, dreadfully. I wish she was here with us."

  A sidewise glance from Nick answered her. "God help us. I'll take you down, but you'll have to stay where I can see you. And before you protest too much, those were Dr. Bilkey's orders, not mine."