by Linda Ford
Chastity's heart sank through the seat of the bench. "She flatly refuses to sell."
"I'm confused. I don't understand why you think your mother should sell this place. It's a prospering business. Besides, how often have I heard you say you're perfectly happy here? Why would you want to change that, especially when it's plain that your mother has no intention of selling?"
She shrugged, at a loss for words. As plainly as Michael had just expressed them, her wishes appeared silly and juvenile. She swallowed hard.
"I guess it's only a childhood dream."
Ignoring his puzzled look, wanting nothing more than for him to understand her desire, she forged ahead. Even if they were left with no choice but to live here, she ached for him to acknowledge the yearning of her heart.
"All my life I've dreamed of living in a little house all my own, sharing it with no one but my husband and children." Her voice fell to a whisper. "All I want is a place of my own."
His brown eyes were puzzled. "I guess we wouldn't have to run the boardinghouse all our lives." He smiled gently. "Someday you'll get your little house."
She nodded, knowing she would have to be content with his promise of "someday."
"Don't look so disappointed." He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. "Things will work out. You'll see."
With a contented sigh, she relaxed against his chest. After a moment, she pushed away and lifted her face. "Michael, you have a way of putting things in perspective. You're so good for me."
He lowered his head and gave her a warm, gentle kiss that settled through her.
A few minutes later he said good-bye, and Chastity crossed the kitchen toward the rooms she shared with her mother and would in a few weeks share with Michael. Her steps faltered. What would Mother say about his proposed arrangement?
She paused in the doorway, half hoping her mother had fallen asleep already, but she glanced up. "You have something you want to discuss, ma cherie?"
Chastity lifted her hands in a gesture of resignation. "It's impossible to hide anything from you."
Her mother smiled. "Of course, I'm your mother." She patted the bed at her side, and Chastity hurried over, sitting down so she could see her mother's face.
"Michael and I were talking."
"You've made some decisions?"
Mother's face was smooth, giving away nothing. Chastity took a deep breath and began.
"Michael wants us to get married as soon as he has finished teaching for the summer."
Her mother nodded. "I see."
"He wants to move in here. He means for us to live here." Chastity's throat tightened as she said the words.
Her mother looked at her, waiting for the rest.
Chastity dreaded saying it. "He thinks we should make this our room. He says it makes sense for you to move to the guest room beside Mrs. B." Her words came out in a rush, and then she sat there, breathless, watching her mother's reaction.
Mother looked around the room. Her eyes widened. Then she sighed. "It will take some getting used to." Then she turned back to Chastity. "How about you?"
Chastity lifted her eyebrows.
"It's been all 'Michael says this' and 'Michael wants that.' Are you happy with the plans?" She patted Chastity's arms. "Before you answer, remember I'm your mother and I see things others don't."
Chastity swallowed hard, determined she would not make this any harder for her mother than it already was. "I don't suppose it will come as any surprise to you that I someday hope to have a little house of my own."
"I know, ma cherie. I've always known."
Chastity waited for her emotions to calm before she continued. "I don't know why it seems so important."
Her mother stroked her hair. "Perhaps it's because so many things have been missing in your life."
Chastity drew back. "I certainly don't think that. You've always been here for me."
Mother nodded. "Thank you. But you've missed a family. A father." She sighed. "And you've had to share everything with the boarders. Even your mother. And though you've always been sweet and nice about it, I can't help thinking it's created an emptiness inside you that may never be filled."
Chastity lay back. Could it be true that this longing, this emptiness, would never be satisfied? "It doesn't make sense. I'm not unhappy. I feel as if I'm trusting God. I try to. Why should I long for things that will never be mine?"
Her mother tucked Chastity's hair behind her ear. "Perhaps you are reaping the result of my bad choices."
Chastity looked at her. "What do you mean?"
Mother shrugged. "I was so desperate for someone to love me and take care of me that I married Simon without knowing who he really was. If I'd taken more time to figure out what it was I wanted and to get to know him, things might have turned out differently. And you're the one who has had to pay for my mistake."
"Mother!" She grabbed her mother's hand and squeezed it. "I've never suffered. In fact I always thought I was luckier than most people to have a mother who cared so much and who taught me to trust God wholeheartedly. Things will work out somehow. I know they will."
Her mother gave a low laugh. "Now it's you who's reminding me to trust God." She picked up her Bible. "He will never fail us."
Mother read a few verses, and then they prayed together.
Chastity silently mouthed the words, God, help me be content in the place You have put me.
* * *
The days fled past. Michael kept busy in the classroom and Chastity in the garden.
One morning, well into June, Chastity returned to the house from weeding and pulled off her gloves when the front doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," she called to Emma, who was ironing sheets.
"Yes?" she asked, as she opened the door to a tall, thin man, neither old nor young. "May I help you?"
"Miss LaBlanc?"
"Yes." It wasn't unusual for people to have been given the name of the owners of the boardinghouse.
"I need to speak to your mother." He coughed—a cough that shook his frame and made him grasp the door post. He sucked in a rattling breath. "I have something for her—for you both."
Chastity noted bright red spots in each sunken cheek.
The man swayed. Chastity grabbed him, clutching at his sleeves.
"You're sick!"
She turned and called over her shoulder to Emma, hoping the girl would hear the urgency in her voice. Something clattered in the kitchen, and Emma was at Chastity's side.
"Help me get him into the spare room."
Emma grabbed one elbow. Together they steered the tottering man down the hall and shuffled him through the door to the edge of the bed, where he collapsed on the covers.
"What is it?" Mother called from the kitchen.
"Just a minute, Mother," Chastity said, then to Emma, "I don't want her coming in here until we know if this man has something contagious." She lifted the man's legs to the bed and pulled off his scuffed boots.
"Right."
They stood at the bedside looking down on the man.
He regarded them from fever-glazed eyes. "I don't want to put you to any trouble."
Chastity smiled. "It would appear you're the one with the trouble."
He nodded, tried to say something, and had a coughing spell. Finally he gasped, "Thank you for your kindness."
Emma turned to Chastity. "Do you want me to get Doc Johnson?"
"Yes, please. And if he isn't in, leave a message."
Emma hurried from the room.
Chastity studied the gaunt man. Without his hat, she could see he had thinning blond hair. From the way his clothes hung, she guessed he had been sick a long time.
"What's your name?"
He tried to smile. "Colin Courtney. Please call me Colin."
"Do you have any family I should contact?"
He shook his head, too weak to speak.
Chastity patted his shoulder. "You rest. I'll go tell Mother what's going on and then bring you
some water. And not to worry. You can rest here until you're better."
"You're very kind," he whispered as she slipped away.
Mother was standing up from her chair when Chastity hurried into the kitchen. "Mother, what are you doing?"
"I was going to see what all the commotion is about."
Chastity explained about the visitor and that he was now resting in the spare room. "I want you to stay away until we know what's the matter. There's no point in everyone's coming in contact with him if it's something contagious."
Her mother gave her a hard look and pursed her mouth, preparing to argue, then relented. "I suppose you're right. Have you sent for Doc?"
"Emma's on her way."
"Good." Mother sat back. "No matter what is wrong with the poor man, he's going to need lots of fluids. And some broth. Do you still have the chicken bones from Saturday?"
Chastity smiled to herself. She might succeed in keeping her mother from the sickroom, but she couldn't keep her from playing nurse from a distance.
"I'll take him water right now. By the way, his name is Colin Courtney." Chastity paused, remembering. "He said he had something for us. I wonder what it could be?"
Mother looked up, interested. "I don't know the name." She turned away. "I can't imagine what it is."
Chastity hurried back to the bedroom with a cup of water. Shey supported Colin's shoulder so he could gulp the drink, Doc Johnson trundled into the room. "You run along for a few minutes, Chastity, while I have a look at our patient." He dropped a dusty satchel on the floor and lay an equally dusty coat on top. "I found these on the step. I presume they belong to your guest."
"Thank you," the man muttered. "I guess I dropped them."
"Now you lay back and behave yourself while I check you over." Doc waved Chastity aside and sat on the edge of the bed, his bulk making the springs protest shrilly.
Chastity hurried to the kitchen. Emma already had the chicken simmering on the stove. She glanced up at Chastity's entrance. "Doc was full of questions, but I said I didn't even know the man's name."
"Colin Courtney."
Chastity put the kettle on for tea and took out a tray, her hands busy even though her thoughts were centered elsewhere. When Doc called her name from the bedroom, she set the creamer down and hurried to the bedside.
"Besides being too thin, the man has a dose of pneumonia. He'll need some good nursing to pull through." Doc shook his numerous chins. "That's where you've found your bit of good luck, my man. You couldn't find a better place to get good nursing. Chastity and her mother have provided care to strangers many times over the years."
The weakened man nodded.
Doc turned to Chastity. "I took it for granted you'd be taking care of him here."
"Of course. Where else would the poor man go?"
Doc rolled his lips like a bull frog. "I've taken the liberty of removing his shirt and pants."
The man lay under a thin blanket.
Doc Johnson picked up his black bag. "I'll leave this syrup to calm his cough. Give him lots of fluids. Sponge him to bring the fever down. Call me if he worsens. Otherwise I'll drop by tomorrow. Good luck, my man."
When Chastity started to follow him to the door, Doc said, "No need to show me out. You've got your hands full here."
Emma could manage tea and the rest of supper preparations, leaving Chastity free to care for the sick man. As Doc had said, Colin would need good nursing to fight his illness.
She hurried to the kitchen for a basin of water and cloths to sponge him down.
Chapter 8
Colin coughed until it seemed his thin frame would break. Finally the cough syrup took effect, and he fell back on the pillows, the perspiration pouring from him.
Chastity sponged his forehead, his neck, and his shoulders. "Your sheets are soaked again. I'll have to change them before you can rest." She hated to make him move for fear it would start another bout of coughing.
"I can't thank you enough." His voice was tight, and she knew it took an effort to say even those few words.
He rolled toward the wall, and Chastity pulled out the sweat- soaked sheet, tossing it toward the door. Then she pulled the clean one tight and tucked it in place. He lay back, and she spread a light blanket over him and smoothed it across his shoulders.
She arched her back to ease her sore muscles and noticed the sky had turned slate gray.
Colin followed the direction of her gaze. "Almost morning," he whispered. "I've kept you up all night."
At the regret in his voice, Chastity shook her head to clear away the fog of sleepiness. "It wasn't your fault." He had alternately shivered, sweated, and coughed. "Besides, I managed to get a little sleep." She nodded toward the armchair.
His smile was weak. "Not very much, I'm afraid." He took a heaving breath. "I think I'll be able to rest now, so you go and get some sleep."
Chastity assessed his color. Despite the bright spots in his cheeks, his skin had a gray cast to it. He clutched the covers to his chin, and she knew it was the beginning of a chill that would lead to a rise in his fever. "I'll rest in the chair for a bit."
His eyes thanked her.
"Don't worry." She squeezed his hand. "I'll see you through this. You won't be alone. I promise you."
His eyelids closed, and he took a deep breath.
She tiptoed to the chair and stretched out, pausing only to ask God to heal Colin's frail body before she let sleep claim her.
She woke to the sun shining through the window and pulled herself up in the chair. Colin's covers were tossed aside. His skin glistened with sweat. He tried to stifle a cough, but when she stood, he let the cough rack through him.
His sheets were soaked again. As soon as he stopped coughing, she changed his bed and added the wet sheets to the growing mound outside the door.
A few minutes later, Emma came with hot tea. "How's the patient?" she whispered.
"About the same." Chastity nodded toward the pile of sheets. "I'm afraid you'll have to do laundry today. I expect he will need nursing most of the day. Do you suppose you could get someone to help you?"
After a moment of consideration, Emma nodded. "I'll see if Dorothy can come. What about you? Did you get any sleep?"
"A bit." She pushed her hair off her face, realizing how rumpled she must look.
"I'll relieve you after I get things organized."
Chastity nodded, shutting the door behind Emma. Colin seemed quiet for the moment, and she again settled into the chair.
The day passed with Colin alternately shivering and sweating and always racked with coughing. Chastity changed his sheets and continually offered fluids.
Early in the afternoon, Emma came to the room.
"Dorothy and I have everything under control. Run along and get some sleep."
Chastity headed to her room, pausing only long enough to tell her mother about Colin's condition.
The second night was a repetition of the first.
The next day saw no change in Colin.
Doc Johnson came by to check on him. "You're doing all you can," he told Chastity, shaking his head in a less than assuring way.
Chastity prayed even harder for Colin.
His gaze followed her every time she stepped away from his bedside. Sensing he did not want to be left alone, she pulled her chair close and asked, "Would you like me to read to you, or would you prefer I sit quietly?"
'Talk to me." The few words triggered a coughing spell.
As soon as he quieted, Chastity told him about the meal Emma was preparing, about Dorothy helping. She described the yard and the weather. He clung to every word. When his eyelids drooped, she thought he had fallen asleep; but when she stopped talking, he opened his eyes, silently begging for more.
So she told him about the boarders and her mother.
Again Emma came to the door in early afternoon to allow Chastity a few hours of sleep.
She returned to the sickroom refreshed, and Emma hurried out to c
omplete supper preparations.
"Talk to me some more," Colin begged.
So Chastity told him about growing up in Willow Creek, about life in a small town, about going to school. Somehow she ended up telling him about Adam and his drawing.
A short time later, Emma returned to the door. "Michael's here asking for you."
Chastity blinked. "Is it Wednesday already?"
Emma nodded.
"Where is he?"
"Cooling his heels in the sitting room." Emma paused. "I better warn you—he wasn't pleased to hear you'd been nursing a stranger night and day."
"Really?"
Emma gave her a thoughtful look before she ducked into the kitchen.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," she told Colin, closing the door softly.
In the sitting room, Michael stood with his back to her, his arms crossed as he looked out the window. She watched him for a moment, seeing nothing in his stance to indicate displeasure.
"Hello, Michael. I'm sorry I was busy."
Michael spun around, his face wreathed in a wide smile. "You're here now. That's all that matters." He strode to her side, taking both her arms and pulling her close. His expression darkened as he looked down at her. "So what Emma says is right. You've been nursing that man night and day. I can see it in the dark shadows under your eyes."
She shrugged. "He's very ill."
"How did he end up here?"
"I have no idea." She recalled how he'd said he had something for them and wondered what it was. "Maybe someone sent him."
"I suppose they knew he'd be welcomed here even if he was sick with who-knows-what."
His tone made it clear he thought it was an imposition. He held up his hand. "Don't deny it. Everyone knows your mother has a reputation for taking in strays."
She faced him squarely. "It's a noble reputation."
"I suppose it is." He sighed. "Though not one I should think we need to continue."
She stared at him. Where did he get the "we"? Last time she checked, this was still her mother's house. Did he think he would become owner and operator when they married? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was fatigue, she reasoned, making her overreact to his innocent statements.
"Never mind now." Michael led her to the couch and pulled her down beside him. "I've missed you."
