by Lisa Gregory
"Dr. Banks. I hope I'm not disturbing you. Am I too early?"
"No, of course not. Come in. Here, have a seat." He rose and pulled a chair up to the side of his desk. "I'm sorry that you find me so—" He cast a glance down at himself. His jacket and tie were off, and his vest hung open. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His shirt front was open one button down. His hair was mussed, and a black stubble covered his jaw. He looked like a man barely out of bed. "—so informal. I was called out in the middle of the night, and I've just now gotten in. I decided to eat a quick breakfast while I caught up on my files."
Julia sat down in the chair he offered. It made her a little uneasy to be here with him. There was an intimacy about the scene, as if they were a husband and wife at the breakfast table together. She glanced at his arms, bared by the rolled-up sleeves. His arms were very masculine—brown, with prominent tendons and silky black hairs. His hands were long, competent, and strong. She had lain with this man. His hands had stroked her breasts. She had nestled against his chest.
Julia swallowed nervously and looked down at her hands. This was no way to start off her employment. She and James were merely acquaintances now. He was her employer; she worked for him. There was no intimacy between them. There couldn't be.
"I didn't realize what time it was," James went on. "I've been at Joe Miller's place since four this morning. His wife Margaret had a baby."
"Really?" Julia smiled. "Boy or girl?"
"A boy. Their third. I think poor Mrs. Miller was sorry not to have a girl, but Joe was pleased. He says he needs the farmhands." He grinned and picked up a piece of buttered toast. "Would you like something to eat?"
Julia shook her head.
"A cup of coffee, at least. Lurleen gave me a whole pot."
"Well, all right."
He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her. He, too, was very aware of the casual state of his clothes, the suggestion of intimacy. If Julia had been his wife, he thought, they would have sat together just this way. She would have waited up for him until he returned this morning and made him a pot of rich black coffee. She would have fixed him a big breakfast and perhaps rubbed his tired shoulders and neck while he ate it. And he would have been happy and content, loving the way she took care of him.
"Was the baby all right?" Julia asked, sipping her coffee.
"Perfect. There weren't any problems. I'm probably just lucky she let me have a part in it."
Julia smiled.
If she were his wife, she would have asked him questions like this while she rubbed his shoulders, James thought. She would have known he needed to release the built-up excitement and energy within him. Maybe later they would have gone upstairs and celebrated the joy of new life in their bed.
James set down the cup so hard it rattled against the saucer. This wasn't a good way to start. Julia was his assistant, not his wife.
"Are you settled in?" he asked, trying to instill some formality into his voice.
"Oh yes."
"You needn't work today, if you'd like more time to unpack."
"No. I've done it, really. I'd like to begin today, if you don't mind."
"Good." He gave her a perfunctory smile and rose, picking up the tray. "I'll take this back into the house and, uh, get ready for the day."
Julia watched him leave, then walked back down the hall to the waiting room. She opened the shades to let in the early morning light. The glare of daylight revealed the sorry condition of James's waiting room. Dust gathered on the furniture, and the chairs were scattered around the floor in haphazard fashion, their cushions flattened and worn. However good a doctor James was, he obviously wasn't adept at keeping his office in order. Julia quickly straightened the chairs and arranged them so that there was more space in the room. She turned over the cushions and plumped them up. Then she searched until she found some rags in one of the examination rooms, and she started dusting.
She had finished the waiting room and was working on his office by the time James returned from the house. When he saw her busily wiping off the glass-fronted bookshelves, he said, "There's no need for you to do that. I didn't hire you as a maid."
Julia turned, smiling. "I don't mind. And it needs it desperately. The examination rooms are all spick-and-span, but obviously you don't lavish the same sort of care on the rest of your office."
He shrugged. "I never think about the rest of it"
He went to the reception room and looked around. Julia followed him, waiting anxiously for his opinion. He turned, surprised. "Why, it looks ten times better. What did you do?"
"Just a little simple housekeeping."
He smiled. "Thank you. Obviously, I needed help in areas I didn't even know. You ready for some more?"
Julia nodded.
"All right. First, the files..." He pulled open the top drawer of an oak filing cabinet. "Whenever a patient I've seen before comes in, I want to review his file. They're alphabetized, as you can see." He gave her a rueful smile and opened the bottom drawer. "But these are the patients I've seen the past couple of months. I haven't had time to put the files back where they belonged."
Julia looked down at the drawerful of jumbled files. She pursed her lips to hide a smile. "I'll get them in order."
"Would you?" He seemed vastly relieved.
"Yes, of course."
"It would also be helpful if you could keep the patients in some sort of order as they come in."
"I'll enter them on a roster."
"You're a jewel. Now let me show you around the office."
He gave her a tour of the place, starting in the examination room. He pointed out the location of his instruments, explaining their use. Seeing the panic beginning in Julia's eyes, he reassured her, "Don't expect to remember it all at once. As we go along, I'll try to explain everything to you, so you'll learn gradually what I use and when."
Their tour was interrupted by the first patient of the day, and after that, there was little rest for either of them. Julia greeted the patients as they arrived and took down their names, then dug each one's file out of the cabinet. While James examined the patients, she busied herself with straightening the files. Twice James called her into one of the examination rooms to help him, once to calm a small boy as he checked out his ear and another time to help him set a broken leg.
Julia soon had the patients moving in an orderly procession, placing one into an examination room to wait while James saw another patient in the second room. By mid-afternoon James wondered how he had gotten along without her for so long. His office had never run so smoothly, and she had added precious minutes to his busy schedule. For the first time in ages, he actually had time to lunch, and by four-thirty, the last of the patients was gone.
James gazed around the waiting area, unable to believe that it was empty. He looked over at Julia. She was on her knees, straightening files in the bottom drawer. The day had been warm, even for the beginning of June. Several stray hairs had come loose from Julia's neat bun and clung damply to her neck. A faint sheen of perspiration lay across her forehead. It made him think of the way she had looked when they had made love in the hot summer evenings, the sweat darkening her hairline and clinging to her translucent skin. He thought of her eyes closed in passion, her mouth opening beneath his.
He tore his eyes away. "Well," he said with all the heartiness he could muster. "You've certainly worked wonders in just one day."
Julia looked up at him, smiling. "Thank you. I haven't really done that much."
"It seems like a great deal to me. You've made it all easier."
"I was terribly clumsy, helping you."
"You did fine. With a little practice, you'll probably run the place without me."
"I doubt that." She rose to her feet in a smooth motion. James enjoyed seeing it.
"Do you have a few minutes?"
"Yes."
"Good. I wanted to take you inside the house and introduce you to my mother."
"What?" Julia's
hands flew to her hair. "I can't. I must look a mess."
"You look fine. She'll enjoy meeting you."
Julia knew she wouldn't. Mrs. Banks would think her messy and common. She would wonder why her son had chosen someone like Julia Turner to work in his office. What if she had a suspicion about what had happened between them eleven years ago?
James took Julia's arm and gently pulled her forward. "Come on. She doesn't bite."
She had no choice but to go with him, though her stomach was twisted into knots. James led her through the office into the house. Nothing she saw there calmed her fears. She had never been in a home that was so large and elegantly furnished. It seemed as if everywhere she looked there were silks and damasks and heavy, carved furniture. In the foyer a wide mahogany-railed staircase curved up to the second floor. A crystal chandelier dangled from the high ceiling, and the floor was a black and white checkerboard of marble. The rugs on the smooth wooden floors were thick and richly designed.
They walked down the hall to the back parlor. Past the stairs a rectangular wooden box with a mouthpiece jutting out from it hung on the wall. Julia recognized it from pictures she'd seen in one of Sarah's magazines. "James!" she gasped. "Look! Is that a—"
He smiled down at her, enjoying her obvious delight. "Yes. It's a telephone. A doctor needs one, or at least that's the excuse I used. Several people in town have one now," He took the earpiece from its hook. "Would you like to talk to anyone? The operator, perhaps. It's Red Pierson."
"Oh, no." Julia backed up quickly, shaking her head.
James chuckled and waggled the earpiece at her. "Come on now, it doesn't bite either."
Julia giggled, but she continued to shake her head. "Oh, no, you don't. I'm not making a fool of myself."
"Don't be silly." James reached out and pulled her over to the telephone.
"James!" she protested, but took the earpiece he held up to her. He turned the handle on the side of the box. It made a tinny ringing sound. Suddenly a voice spoke in her ear, and she jumped.
James leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her and grinning. "Say something."
"Hello?" she said cautiously, stretching up to put her lips close to the mouthpiece. She felt like an idiot, talking into a box, but there was James, grinning at her, making her giggly and excited.
"James?" An older woman's voice came from the doorway behind them.
Julia jumped and whirled, the earpiece falling from her hand and thumping against the wall.
A white-haired woman stood in the doorway. She was dressed all in black silk. Jet earrings dangled from her earlobes, and a matching jet brooch closed the collar of her dress. Her hands were gnarled, but soft and well kept. A large diamond flashed on her left hand. She looked as elegant and wealthy as the house. Julia was very aware of her simple white cotton shirtwaist and dark skirt and the stray hairs that had come loose and straggled down the back of her neck.
"Oh, hello. Mother." James turned and smiled. He picked up the earpiece Julia had let drop and set it back on its hook. "We were coming in to see you.
"How pleasant." Anthea smiled at Julia, only her bright brown eyes giving away any of her curiosity.
"I wanted you to meet my new assistant, Mother, this is Julia Turner. I mean, Dobson. Mrs. Dobson, this is my mother. Anthea Banks."
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Dobson." Anthea said politely,
"Thank you. It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Banks."
Anthea smiled and cast James a loving, playful glance. "I hope my son hasn't been too hard a taskmaster"
"Oh, no, ma'am. He's very nice." Julia colored a little. "He's easy to work for."
"That's only because Julia is such an efficient employee." James smiled at her.
Julia glanced from him to his mother. She wondered what Mrs. Banks thought. Julia imagined the woman had been horrified to hear James laughing and teasing with the hired help in the hall. She probably thought Julia was brash and forward. Julia wished she knew how to act in a situation like this.
"Won't you join me in the parlor? I'll have Lurleen bring us coffee—and perhaps something sweet?"
"Didn't Lu make her Mississippi mud cake? I'd love a slice of that." James turned toward Julia. "You haven't lived until you've eaten Lurleen's Mississippi mud cake."
Anthea studied her son thoughtfully. There was a light-hearted, youthful quality in his face that she hadn't seen there in years. Her eyes went to Julia. She suspected the change in James's attitude had something to do with this girl. There was something about the way they stood, the way they looked at each other—not quite as if they were in love, but as if they were extremely aware of each other. They weren't simply acquaintances nor just employer-employee. She wondered what was going on.
"Oh, no," Julia protested quickly. "I couldn't. I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I, uh, the children are waiting for me at home. I have to get back and fix their supper."
"Oh. Of course." The light in James's face dimmed, and he turned formal. "Then I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes." Julia looked at Anthea. She fell as if she ought to curtsy, Anthea was so regal looking. She struggled to remember the lessons in manners her schoolteachers had given so many years ago. "It's nice to have met you, ma'am."
Anthea smiled. "The pleasure was mine. I hope you'll visit again someday when you can stay longer."
Julia nodded. She didn't know what to say. She took a step back.
"I'll walk you to the door," James offered.
"Thank you." Julia walked awkwardly beside him down the hall to the front door, feeling Anthea's eyes on them every step.
She was glad when James opened the massive door for her, and she was able to escape. She hurried across the lawn to the office to get her hat and gloves, then left the office by its front door. Involuntarily she glanced back at the main house, James still stood on the front porch. She was surprised to see him, and an unthinking smile broke across her face. He smiled back and raised a hand in a wave. Shyly she waved back, then ducked her head and walked away.
James watched her back until she reached the comer and turned out of his sight. She was as slim as she had been as a girl. The sun glinted gold on her hair where the hat didn't cover it.
He sighed and went back into the house. The day seemed to have ended too soon.
Chapter 11
After breakfast Luke went out to the barn and saddled a horse. Sarah stood at the sink, washing the breakfast dishes, and watched him lead the saddled horse out of the barn and mount it. He rode out of the yard without a wave or even a look toward her. He hadn't told her where he was going, but Sarah knew. He was going to see that boy.
She wouldn't think of him as Luke's son. He wasn't. He couldn't be.
She finished the dishes. There were plenty of other chores to do, but at the moment she couldn't summon up the energy or interest to do them. She felt leaden inside. Sarah sat down at the kitchen table and braced her head against her hands, elbows on the table. She stared down at the wood grain of the table, her eyes filling with tears.
Luke had hardly spoken to her since yesterday afternoon. She had seen the disillusion in his eyes when she told him that she didn't want him to bring Tessa Jackson's son home. Luke had always thought she was so good, so perfect. Now he was seeing her as she really was, and he didn't like her
She closed her eyes, and the tears rolled out, plopping onto her cheeks. She couldn't bear to have another child in her dead baby's place. She remembered the dreams she had had for their son. She had imagined him tagging behind Luke out to the fields, the sun gleaming on his white blond hair. She had dreamed of him growing up straight, handsome, and strong, just like Luke but without the sorrow and pain that Luke had experienced. She would have given their son all the love that Luke had never had, all the happiness and joy. They would have been tight knit, the four of them, strong in their love for one another.
But he was dead, and so were those dreams. She wouldn't have the tow-headed boy—and
she could not take another child in its place. Luke was trying to replace her baby with this other child. She couldn't do that, and it hurl to think that Luke could, that it was that easy for him. Yet he had called her hard!
What would she do if he brought the boy home? Luke would be furious if she refused to accept him. It would likely be the death blow to her marriage, already crumbling around her. But she couldn't take him in. She simply couldn't!
❧
Luke's thoughts were grim as he rode to George Jackson's farm. He hardly noticed the warm June day around him. He kept thinking about what Tessa had told him, as he had constantly since yesterday afternoon. Had Tessa spoken the truth? Would he be able to tell if the child was his? And if Cal was his son, what would he do?
Sarah didn't want Cal. Luke still found it hard to believe that Sarah, his sweet Sarah, had so coldly rejected a child who needed their help. He knew she was grieving for the baby she had lost. He, too, felt the pain and the empty ache inside. But he couldn't imagine Sarah, even grief stricken, not reaching out to help a child. She was a stranger to him now.
They had never had a real argument, a serious disagreement, in the whole time they'd been married. Luke had never ridden roughshod over her or ignored her wishes. There were husbands, he knew, who ruled like despots over their families, but Luke was not that kind. To him, his wife was a gift to be cherished and cared for, not commanded. He hated the idea of arguing with her. He hated even more to go directly against her wishes. But if Tess's boy were really his, he could not turn his back on him.
Luke turned his horse onto the dirt path leading to the Jackson house. It gave him a funny feeling, going up the path that had once been so familiar, but on which he hadn't set food in nine years. He slopped in front of the Jackson house and sat, looking at it. It was the same: a small, square frame house with a narrow lean-to attached to it, the faded white paint peeling from its walls. He remembered Tessa standing on the porch, looking for him. He would round the comer and stand until she saw him, then cut off to the left into the trees. She would leave the porch and meet him there. She had always been so hot and eager, and it had only added to the excitement to know that if her Bible-thumping father discovered them, he'd probably take a shotgun to Luke. That was the way it had been with Tessa, all excitement and danger—the way it had been with all of them. He hadn't known love in lying with a woman until he'd had Sarah, and then he'd discovered that it provided an excitement far more intense than any he'd ever experienced.
