Andrew’s words about Emmaline came to Kate. “I associate her with someone I saw in the news.”
Perhaps the answer was right there before her eyes.
What was the Philadelphia paper called? She had glanced through the paper not too long ago...Oh, the Inquirer. The Philadelphia Inquirer.
She could search the online edition, using Francie Morlen’s last name. Maybe that would yield results where the search of Emmaline’s name had not.
Glancing down at the Bible lying in her lap, she smiled. Once again, God had shown her a direction to go in search of the solution to a problem. She would head for the library as soon as she was finished with her Bible study.
KATE DIDN’T KNOW WHEN she realized that it was taking Paul an exceedingly long time to complete his run.
She had finished her morning devotions, showered, and made the bed. Then she returned to the kitchen to start breakfast, which she often made while Paul was showering. Paul, however, wasn’t back from his run yet. A glance at the clock told her he had been gone too long.
Alarm coursed through her. She hurried to the front door and walked out to the road to see if she could see him coming from either direction.
No Paul.
Grabbing her handbag and a sweater, Kate rushed out to the garage and started the Honda. She backed out into the road facing toward town and then hesitated. Which way might Paul have chosen to run today?
A glance in her rearview mirror arrested her speculation. Far, far down the road, she detected movement. In an instant, the movement resolved itself into the figure of a man. He looked as if he were drunk, lurching along unsteadily.
Her heartbeat picked up as she reversed direction and zipped off away from town along Smoky Mountain Road. In moments, she was closing in on the figure, whom she had determined to be her husband.
Paul was limping badly, his face set in pain, as she screeched to a halt right in the middle of the road and leaped out.
“What happened?” she cried as she rushed to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“I twisted my ankle,” he reported grimly as he draped his arm across her shoulders and let her take some of his weight. “Stepped on a loose piece of asphalt along the edge of the road.”
“How long ago?”
Paul shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I’d been running for about half an hour.”
“Heavens!” Distress colored Kate’s tone. “And you had to walk all this way. Oh, Paul, you’re never going running without the cell phone again.”
“Next time I plan to run alone on an isolated road, I’ll take it,” he promised.
She got him into the passenger seat, then executed a three-point turn and headed back to the house. As soon as she had him safely lowered onto the couch, she raised his foot into her lap and untied the shoelaces. Slipping the running sneaker and sock from his ankle, she grimaced as they both leaned in to look at the ankle. It was already swollen and slightly purple.
“This doesn’t look so good,” Kate said. “I’d better call the doctor.”
“It’s just strained a little,” Paul objected.
“Since when did you obtain your medical degree?”
After a tense silence, Paul said, “Oh, fine. Call the doctor. But would you at least get me an ice pack first?”
Kate did as he asked. But while she was placing the ice pack in a cover, a horrible thought struck her.
“Paul?” she called from the kitchen. “Was there anyone around when you hurt your ankle? Did anyone drive by?”
There was silence from the living room. Then Paul said, “Not that I recall. Why?” in a tone that meant he thought she might be losing her marbles.
Kate tried to chuckle, but the sound caught in her throat and she began to cry. As she returned and handed the ice pack to Paul, she said, “For a moment there, I had the ridiculous and slightly paranoid thought that Emmaline might have managed to cause your accident somehow.”
Paul smiled a little. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “No, this was just plain ol’ bad luck in action.”
Relieved and embarrassed, Kate called their physician, who told her to bring him right in to the ER, since he’d probably need an X-ray anyway.
Twenty minutes later, the Hanlons were in an exam cubicle at the hospital in Pine Ridge. The doctor on call commended them for getting ice on the ankle as soon as possible. He gave Paul ibuprofen to help limit the swelling, then sent him off for X-rays.
Kate waited impatiently while Paul was taken to radiology. While she was sitting in the waiting room outside that department, she heard a little voice with a clipped Yankee inflection say, “Kate? What are you doing here?”
She turned her head to see Abby Pippins perching on the edge of the seat next to her. “Hello, Abby. Paul twisted his ankle, and he’s getting X-rays.”
“I see.” But Abby’s sharp eyes looked over every inch of Kate as if she were the one who needed treatment.
“I see you’ve got your goodies with you.” Kate gestured to a small basket Abby carried. In it were two jars of some sort, adorned with pretty quilted covers. Abby made her own ceramics, and Kate suspected there were ceramic jars beneath the fabric.
Abby nodded. “Just a couple of visitations. You know how that is.”
Kate chuckled. “Indeed I do.”
Abby stood. “I’d best be moving along. If you need me, you call me. I’ll be there.”
As Abby headed for the next wing, a familiar figure in a white coat strode past. A second later, he backpedaled.
“Kate? Everything okay?” It was Dr. McLaughlin. He had not been in the ER when Kate brought Paul in. Despite their recent frustrating interactions, Kate was glad to see him.
“Not exactly. Paul twisted his ankle. He’s in getting X-rays now.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Me too,” she said glumly. “He’s been training to run in the American Heart Association 10K. This is going to put a crimp in his plans.”
“Maybe not,” the physician said. He came and sat down beside her, stretching out his long legs. “It just depends on what type of damage he did.”
There was a silence between them for a moment.
Then Kate said, “I’m sorry if I put you on the spot before, trying to worm privileged information out of you.”
Dr. McLaughlin grinned. “You wouldn’t be the first.” Then he sobered. “But seriously, Kate, please be careful.”
She nodded, wondering what she should say to him. “I’ve seen some...behaviors that have concerned me,” she said, careful not to use any identifying names. “I believe I understand what you’re saying.”
He gave her a long, intense look. “Good.” After another moment, he sighed, got to his feet, and patted her shoulder. “I hope Paul is all right.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “For everything.”
He chuckled. “You mean for nothing.”
“Right.” She felt glad that her rapport with Dr. McLaughlin had returned to its typical cordial tone. More and more, Kate was confident that Emmaline’s distaste for the doctor was unfounded, seeing how Emmaline had responded similarly to so many others. Lucky me, thought Kate sarcastically. It would figure that I’d be the exception to that rule.
AN HOUR LATER, they were back in the car driving home, with Paul’s ankle wrapped and instructions to keep icing it and taking ibuprofen to reduce the swelling.
Paul snorted. “Might as well have diagnosed it myself,” he grumbled. “A twenty-dollar co-pay and X-rays to tell me it’s just sprained.”
“At least this way you’re sure it’s nothing worse,” Kate soothed. “A few days, and you should feel much better.”
“A few days during which I won’t be able to train,” Paul said gloomily. “Eli’s going to be disappointed.”
“Eli will understand,” Kate said. Privately, she hoped Paul’s training days weren’t over. But could he still run in a 10K in less than four weeks with this setback?
“Maybe, but if I can’t run this race with him, I’ll never be able to prove that an old guy can be just as fit as a young one.”
Kate stifled a chuckle as she recalled her son’s words about Paul’s sense of competition. “You don’t have to prove anything,” she said. “Since when did this become about proving something? It’s a charity event, remember?”
“I know, but I hate feeling like the ball and chain Eli has to drag while he runs.”
“Paul! I can’t imagine that Eli considers you a ball and chain. Andrew said you’re holding your own, running just fine.”
Paul snorted. “Andrew has to say nice things about me.”
He lapsed into a grumpy silence until she turned into the drive and parked in the garage. As she came around to help him into the house, he said, “I’m hungry. Can we have lunch?”
“Of course we can,” Kate said. Breakfast had been many hours earlier. No wonder Paul seemed touchy.
She got him settled on the couch with an ice pack and then made a sandwich. She set up two tray tables so Paul didn’t have to get up, and they sat together in the living room for their lunch.
After cleaning up the dishes, Kate called Millie to cancel Paul’s appointments for the day.
The evening passed in much the same manner that the afternoon had. She felt as if all she did was fetch, carry, and feed the patient. She walked over to the church to pick up some paperwork Paul had requested so that he could work on it at home, then returned home and made dinner for the patient.
She handed the paperwork to Paul, and at his request, she sat with him and helped him organize everything. She brought him hot tea. She replaced the ice pack. She fetched his Bible, a yellow legal pad, and a pen from his study. It wasn’t his “favorite” pen, so she went back to the study for the one he wanted. She brought him more pain medication.
She decided she was glad she hadn’t taken up nursing as a career choice.
Andrew called shortly after that to tell her that his family had arrived home safely, and she told him what had happened. He talked briefly to Paul, whose mood seemed to have improved after eating and taking the pain medication.
Before she knew it, the day had ended. With chagrin, she realized she hadn’t had a moment to go to the library and get on the computer to do any more digging into the mystery of who Emmaline Ashford was. It was starting to seem as if Emmaline had dropped into Copper Mill out of thin air, and if Kate hadn’t met her sister, she’d probably believe that by now.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Paul stayed in bed while Kate got up and enjoyed a solitary half hour of time in the Word.
When he came limping out of the bedroom a short while later, she was relieved to see his face arranged in its customary good-humored lines.
“Good morning. How does your ankle feel?” she asked.
“Not too bad,” he said, sounding surprised. “I guess icing it faithfully all day yesterday really helped. Thank you.” He smiled. “And thank you for putting up with me. I was a serious grouch, wasn’t I?”
“You had your moments.” She smiled back, crossing the room to hug him. “It was a sacrifice, but you’re worth it.”
As he followed her to the breakfast table, she pointed at the article Andrew had talked about the day before. “What do you know about insurance fraud?” she asked on a hunch.
Paul glanced at the headline. “I know you can go to jail for a very long time if you get caught. So I wouldn’t plan on it to cover our retirement...”
Kate nudged him, and he got serious. “It’s very, very difficult to pull off from what I understand,” he said. “Insurance companies have already seen every trick in the book—dozens of times—and they know just what the signs are that point to someone trying to steal their money. Why?” he asked.
Kate wasn’t exactly sure why. She remembered seeing the hospital invoice that indicated Emmaline had paid part of her bill with cash. Was it possible that she was perpetrating some sort of insurance fraud?
“Just grasping at straws, I guess,” she said.
PAUL DROVE HIMSELF to the office later. He was lucky he injured his left ankle and was still able to drive. Kate was especially thankful. A Paul without independent transportation would have been a very grumpy Paul indeed.
Shortly after he left, the telephone rang. “Hello?” Kate said, after turning on the handset.
“Hello, hello.” It was Emmaline.
Good grief, thought Kate. Of all the people who could be calling...“Hi, Emmaline. What can I help you with?” She deliberately used the slightly more formal query, hoping to subtly signal that she no longer viewed Emmaline as a close friend.
“I would like to invite you to come by this afternoon,” Emmaline said. Was it Kate’s imagination, or did her voice quiver the tiniest bit?
Kate pondered the invitation for a moment. Finally, she decided to accept. She had calmed down about the letter that Emmaline had sent Paul, and she felt she would be able to ask Emmaline why she had done it without getting too angry.
“All right,” she said. “Did you have a time in mind?” Formal, she reminded herself. Keep some distance.
“Does two o’clock suit you?” Yes, Emmaline was definitely nervous.
“Two is fine. I’ll see you then.” Kate turned off the telephone without even a good-bye. She realized her hands were shaking a bit. Hmm. Maybe she wasn’t as calm as she had thought.
Chapter Eighteen
At precisely 2:00 PM, Kate rang Emmaline’s now-familiar doorbell. She smoothed down the ivory V-necked sweater she had worn over camel-colored wool slacks.
“Hello.” Emmaline’s low, quiet greeting was subdued; her normal effusive greeting usually included two chirpy hellos. “Please come in, Kate. May I get you a drink? A cup of hot tea?”
“Thank you.” Kate took a seat on the sofa and let Emmaline treat her like company. All the way over, she had rehearsed different ways of introducing the nasty note into the conversation. She had yet to settle on one.
Emmaline rushed off to the kitchen for a few moments. Soon she returned with a tea tray. She took a seat in a wingback chair and then turned her knees and body to face Kate.
Emmaline cleared her throat. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I might as well just get it over with.”
Kate didn’t move a muscle, although inside, she was stunned.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, I wrote Paul a letter at the beginning of the week. It was thoughtless and unkind, and I have regretted it every hour of the day since I dropped it in the church’s mail slot.”
She hesitated, as if waiting for Kate to speak, but Kate didn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Kate,” she said. “It was a rash, impulsive action. There is no excuse. I am”—her voice caught—“just so ashamed.”
Kate inclined her head, much the way she often watched Renee do when she was at her most regal. “I appreciate your apology,” she said. And she did. She hadn’t expected an apology from Emmaline, and she felt herself softening just a little bit. “However, Paul is the one you wronged,” she told the other woman. “He’s the one who needs to hear what you have to say.”
Emmaline drew a deep breath and let it shudder out. “I will,” she promised, “I will.” She raised a hand and absently patted her chest several times.
Kate forced herself not to react. Whatever Emmaline’s health issues were, she was responsible for them. It wasn’t up to Kate to fix Emmaline’s problems. She reminded herself that Dr. McLaughlin had very pointedly told her not to worry about Emmaline’s health and had warned her to be careful. She was determined to heed his advice.
Kate recalled her theory about panic attacks. She had set that theory aside on Monday when Paul had shown her the letter. Now she remembered wondering whether Emmaline was experiencing stress over her finances, which might lead to panic attacks. What better time to ask her than now?
“Emmaline,” she said slowly, “the day I brought you home from the hospital, I couldn’t help but no
tice your hospital invoice lying on the table. You’re facing an awfully large bill. Are you going to be able to pay it?” Perhaps more than one, if those hospital bracelets in the kitchen drawer were really Emmaline’s rather than Francie’s.
Emmaline dropped her gaze. “I don’t have a choice,” she murmured. “Do I?”
When she put it that way, Kate supposed she was correct. Still...
“If you’re in financial difficulty,” she said, “there are programs that can help. Money worries are a terrible thing. Financial fears can make a person too stressed to function, in worst-case situations. Anxiety disorders are not uncommon when finances are tight. Paul refers people to financial consultants as well as other types of counselors all the time.”
“I’m not having panic attacks, if that’s what you’re asking,” Emmaline said.
“Or heart trouble?”
“No, I am not having heart trouble.”
“But you do take allergy medication that lists shortness of breath and chest pain among its side effects.”
“It’s just allergy medicine,” Emmaline said defensively. “I’ve never noticed any side effects.”
Kate sat back. “Those were the first straight answers you’ve given me when I’ve asked about your health.”
Emmaline rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m a very private person.”
“I do have another question.” Kate no longer cared so much about handling Emmaline with kid gloves, but she sensed she would get no further with more health-related questions. “How could you afford brunch at the Bristol if you’re worrying about money?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Emmaline’s instant response carried the ring of truth. “Francie gave me a gift certificate there when I moved in.” Then she leaned forward and smiled at Kate. “I’m so glad we’re friends again.”
SHORTLY BEFORE FIVE, Kate hurried home to start dinner, arriving just as Paul was making his way slowly into the house.
“Hello, Katie,” he said. He had one hand behind his back and as he stopped, he drew out a pastel bouquet of mixed blooms with a flourish.
“Oh, Paul, thank you,” she said as he handed her the surprise. Pink roses, carnations and beautifully scented pink stargazer lilies all vied for attention. “What’s this for?”
How the Heart Runs Page 17
