Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series

by JoAnn Durgin

  “Indeed.” That word seemed to be Betty’s favorite, and she’d heard it often.

  Not that she was trying to be secretive, but neither did Sarah want Betty Raines telling Mom that her youngest daughter was seeking a book in the medical section. Especially since she knew her mother regularly met Betty for coffee at Perry’s. Mom had panicked enough over Dad’s heart attack. Goodness, given this information, she’d probably jump to any number of false assumptions and think she had a potentially debilitating or fatal disease.

  “I’ve had a request for the book,” Betty said. “I thought perhaps if you were done, then. . .”

  Didn’t the library have multiple copies? She’d checked it out several times already, so perhaps she was being selfish and shouldn’t hold onto it and deprive someone else of the joy of reading her new favorite novel.

  Sarah nodded. “Certainly. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your understanding. I’m sure we’ll have another copy returned soon, so please feel free to check it out again.”

  She waited until Betty walked away before tugging out a medical dictionary. What was the name of the disease Sam said he had? Mad at herself for not writing it down immediately after she’d returned home, Sarah closed her eyes. Think. Opening the book, she scanned down the list, but it only confused her more. The letter M came to mind. That was the first letter. Men something, as she recalled. Menyers? Minyards? Quickly flipping to the index in the back, she moved her finger down the list. She paused at one or two before pausing on Ménière’s Disease. Yes! That was it.

  Pulling a stepstool closer, Sarah settled on it to read, never taking her eyes from the book.

  Ménière’s Disease results when a change occurs in the fluid volume of the labyrinth, a part of the inner ear. Interesting. Several million people suffer from the condition in the United States. The symptoms of Ménière’s Disease can occur suddenly and arise daily or as infrequently as once a year. So, it is unpredictable. Usually affects adults in their thirties—Sam was close to that—or middle-aged adults but it can also occur in childhood. Possible causes include ear infection and head injury.

  Sam hadn’t mentioned either of those things.

  Accurate measurement and characterization of hearing loss are of critical imporance in the diagnosis. Vertigo is the most debilitating symptom of the disease and vertigo attacks can lead to severe nausea, vomiting and sweating. He’d mentioned vertigo and being sick. Attacks often start with tinnitus—a loss of hearing—or full pressure in the affected ear. The left ear, in Sam’s case. Some sufferers could experience intense, uncontrollable tinnitus while sleeping. Others might notice hearing loss or feel unbalanced for prolonged periods. Occasional symptoms include headaches, abdominal discomfort and diarrhea. A person’s hearing tends to recover between attacks but over time becomes worse.

  Sarah paused and inhaled a quick breath when she read the next words.

  There is no cure.

  So, it wasn’t like it was a death sentence. Not like it was a horrible thing, except she knew how much Sam loved to fly—it was more than a hobby. For four years, flying had been more than his occupation. Flying jets had been his passion, his livelihood, his life. He said he was on medication. The worst that could happen might be eventual hearing loss.

  She could better understand his not wanting to fly in any kind of conflict because of the uncertainty of his condition. What she hated most was how this disease seemed to make Sam somehow feel like less of a man. That notion was ridiculous, but how could she convince him of that? Men could be so stubborn.

  Returning her focus to the book, Sarah continued to read. Through the use of hearing tests, physicians characterized hearing loss as either sensory, arising from the inner ear, or neural, arising from the hearing nerve. Didn’t Sam say his was sensory? A change of diet can help control symptoms. Eliminating caffeine, alcohol, tobacco and salt may relieve the frequency and intensity of attacks in some people. Reducing stress levels may lessen the severity of the symptoms. Medications that either control allergies, reduce fluid retention or improve blood circulation in the inner ear could also prove beneficial.

  She paused, an idea forming in her mind. Sam didn’t drink alcohol, and he didn’t chew or smoke tobacco, but she might be able to help him reduce his caffeine and salt intake.

  “My my, who have we here? And what could you be studying so intently?”

  Startled, Sarah clasped the book to her chest, breathing heavily. That action only served to make it easier for Tess to see the title of the bulky volume. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Obviously.” Tess tilted her head and read the name of the book out loud. “Why are you reading this book?” A frown creased her forehead. “You’re not sick—”

  “No, I’m not sick. Thanks for your concern.” Sarah bit her tongue, determined not to say more and fuel the fire.

  “Then why do you have your head stuck in this medical dictionary?” Her sister’s blue eyes widened. “Are you afraid Dad’s going to have another attack? Has something happened? Or is it Mom? Tell me now. Are you worried about her? What’s going on?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Tess, please calm down, and don’t jump to hasty conclusions. I’m trying to read up on something to help a friend. That’s all. Really.” Avoidance wasn’t lying the last time she checked. She was under no obligation to answer her sister’s nosy questions.

  “Well, that’s good, but why can’t you at least share the name of your friend’s malady? Must be serious.” When Tess stepped closer, Sarah snapped the book closed. Dust rose from its pages, making her sneeze—a very loud, distinctly unladylike sneeze. She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and then fumbled for her handbag. Tugging out a tissue from the front pocket, she coughed a few times to clear her clogged throat. Tess watched, appearing embarrassed at the intrusive, loud sound in the otherwise hushed library.

  “I’ve read enough for today.” Rising to her feet, Sarah took great pains to pick up the stepstool and move it out of the way. “It’s time for me to get back to Perry’s, anyway.” She reshelved the medical dictionary and grabbed her purse. At least she’d read enough to give her some insight into the disease that brought Sam home.

  “Right.” Tess glanced at her watch. “I was hoping to get to the bank earlier this morning and invite Sam to join us for dinner tonight at the house. He’s already been home a few weeks, and we need to be more neighborly. We had a new case come up at the office this morning, and unfortunately, I couldn’t get away for ten minutes to run over and see him.”

  “Oh, are you cooking?” Sarah bit her lip, but she didn’t regret the question. Her sister had a habit of inviting others for dinner while fully expecting Mom to do all the work. Not that Mom minded, but advance notice would be nice. She wouldn’t tell Tess she’d made a chicken casserole the night before and Mom had already planned on putting it in the oven at five o’clock.

  Tess frowned. “Mom lives for this kind of thing. Besides, she loves Sam.”

  “Why don’t you go see Sam tomorrow and ask him to come for dinner later in the week? Invite his parents, too,” Sarah said as they exited the library together and walked down the front steps.

  “I have a better idea.” Tess practically bounced down the remaining stairs to the sidewalk, reminding Sarah of an enthusiastic child. “Hello there, Mr. Lewis.”

  Walking past the library, hands in his pockets and whistling, Sam appeared deep in thought. “Hi, Tess. How are you?” His gaze moved past Tess to where Sarah stood on the steps. “Sarah.”

  She nodded. “Hi, Sam.”

  “What’s got that handsome forehead of yours all scrunched up in a big old frown?”

  Sarah watched, appalled, as Tess traced the lines on Sam’s forehead with her finger. Speaking of pride, did her sister have any left in that petite frame of hers? That disgustingly thin, perfect figure? Down, girl. Be gracious. She’s your sister. You love her.

  “Y
ou look like a man in need of a good meal and conversation. No doubt, you’re working too hard. I want you to come to dinner at our house tonight.”

  Sam looked up at her as she walked down the last few steps to the sidewalk. “What do you think, Sarah? Do you agree with Tess’s assessment?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.” Sarah hoped her smile belied her words, and she prayed Tess wouldn’t feel the need to mention where she’d found her in the library and especially the book she’d been studying. Judging by Tess’s current demeanor, it was the furthest thing from her mind as she flirted with abandon.

  “Tell me what time and what to bring.” Sam kept his gaze trained on her, not Tess.

  “Just bring yourself,” Tess said. “That’s all we need to dress up our table.”

  Sarah exchanged amused glances with Sam. It was either that or groan. How was it possible she’d come from the same gene pool as Tess?

  “You could bring dessert, if you’d like,” Sarah said.

  “Count on it.”

  Sarah nodded. “Sounds good. Dinner will be served at six. Please invite your parents, too. We’d love to have them join us.”

  “I’ll be there, but my folks have another engagement tonight. If you’d rather do it another night—”

  “Don’t be silly, Sam.” Tess playfully swatted his arm and her hand lingered a little long for Sarah’s liking. “We can always do it again, and your parents can join us then.”

  “Very good. If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have a luncheon at Quentin’s, or I’d offer to escort you wherever you’re going.”

  “Another time,” Tess called after Sam as he departed.

  ♥

  Mom lowered the bowl of steaming mashed potatoes on the table. Then she stopped and stared at something behind Sarah. “Teresa Elaine Jordan, you march right back into your room this instant, young lady. Take off that shameful outfit, put on an appropriate dress, and go scrub that hideous gook off your face.”

  Turning from where she was setting the table with the fine English bone china, Sarah moved one hand over her mouth. Standing in the hallway, Tess wore the shortest skirt imaginable and enough blush for a clown. And what was that strange iridescent blue color on her eyelids? Her eyelashes looked longer than Emmett Blanton’s cow, and they were the longest in the county. If her sister had any idea of how silly she looked, Tess wouldn’t show herself to anything other than her full-length bedroom mirror. Was her sister really that gullible?

  “Don’t you think I look sophisticated?” Tess slowly turned in a full circle, modeling her outfit. As if that would convince anyone. “I’ll have you know this look is all the rage in Paris, my darlings. This is the miniskirt. Mary Quant features it in her shop in London.”

  Mom frowned. “I don’t know or care who this Mary person is, but it’s nothing more than someone taking a pair of scissors and whacking away on the length of a skirt to make it indecent.”

  “You liked my pillbox hat inspired by Jackie Kennedy.” Tess stuck out her lower lip in a pout.

  “Completely different,” Mom said, pulling a serving spoon from the tray of fine silver in the breakfront. The silver reserved for only the most important dinner guests. Shaking her head, Mom returned to the kitchen.

  “Come on, sis.” Tess turned big eyes on Sarah. “What do you think?”

  Sarah glanced at her watch. Sam should arrive momentarily. Tess should know better than to ask her about fashion choices. “I think if Paris designers put a woman in a plain brown potato sack and paraded her down the Champs Élysées, they’d convince gullible buyers worldwide that it was the height of fashion. Sophistication isn’t something you wear. The key is understatement, not something you parade in someone’s face.” Maybe that was too harsh. “Sweetie, you definitely have the legs and figure to wear a skirt that short, but the point is, you—”

  “Don’t sweetie me,” Tess huffed. “Maybe you don’t know how to recognize sophistication. You don’t read the fashion magazines the way I do or keep up with what they’re wearing in New York and Europe.” She gave her a disparaging glance. “You actually look pretty good tonight, but normally you look rather. . .well, frumpy.”

  “Frumpy?” Sarah silently counted to five under her breath. Lord, hold my tongue.

  “Maybe you should try a potato sack like Sarah mentioned.” Mom came back into the room and gave Tess a pointed glance. “At least it would cover you up more. Show a little respect for yourself, Teresa. I don’t care what they do anywhere but right here in Rockbridge. In this town, you’d be held up to ridicule if you dared show yourself in public dressed like”—she waved her hand up and down—“this. And quite possibly, you’d be taken to task by the church elders, which would be extremely embarrassing for your father. I know one thing. You’re not going to sit here at the dinner table looking like you do now, especially with Captain Lewis expected any moment.”

  Get a clue, Mom! That’s why she dressed like this in the first place.

  “Your mother’s right.” Coming around the corner, Dad lowered his glasses and peered at Tess. “No daughter of mine is going to show herself off like that. The kind of attention you’d get from wearing that skirt isn’t what you’d want, even from a gentleman like Sam Lewis. Go change.” With a grunt, he hiked up his pants by the belt buckle and headed for his chair at the table.

  Sarah continued setting the table, lost in thought. Surely Sam wouldn’t be attracted to a girl simply because she had a good figure? Tess was two inches shorter, twenty pounds thinner and better proportioned, so she could pull off more clothing styles than she could. She’d inherited their mother’s fine bone structure and petite features whereas Sarah took more after Dad’s bigger-boned side of the family. All over again, Tess’s barbs chipped away at her self-confidence by pointing out the differences in their physical size.

  Still, she’d caught Sam stealing glimpses of her at Perry’s a few days ago. He seemed to like her appearance and he certainly hadn’t run away screaming when he’d seen her in all her soaking wet glory at Thornton’s Creek. If that hadn’t sent him running, she couldn’t imagine what would. A small smile tipped Sarah’s lips at the thought of the special moments they’d shared, both lighthearted and serious. She wouldn’t trade those memories for the world.

  “I hope you’re not laughing at me.”

  Surprised by the anger in Tess’s tone, Sarah’s jaw gaped. More surprising were the tears shimmering in her sister’s eyes.

  “Not at all, Tess. Of course not. I was just thinking—”

  “Oh, give it up, Sarah! I know you were thinking about him. That lovesick look on your face gives you away every time. Which seems to be happening a lot lately. You really should try to be a little less obvious.” Tess’s voice assumed a defiant tone. “I suppose you have another little rendezvous planned with him?” She raised a brow and waited, her arms crossed as she tapped one foot.

  Sarah’s cheeks burned and she tamped down the quick rise of anger. She’d never known Tess to be so vindictive. “No, I do not.” How could Tess know? Had she been spying on her? Sure, Sam had a habit of showing up at the creek, but it certainly wasn’t anything they’d prearranged or planned. Other than when she’d asked him to meet her there on Saturday afternoon.

  “Care to explain?” her father’s voice boomed from behind her.

  “Seems our little Sarah is infatuated with Captain Lewis,” Tess said with a deep pout, an expression she’d perfected.

  “Well, he’s a fine man, and I’m sure that statement applies to a lot of the women in Rockbridge, but what’s this about a rendezvous?” Her mother gave her a curious look as she pulled the fine crystal glassware from the hutch. Captain Lewis was getting the very best they had to offer tonight.

  “It’s a private, clandestine meeting—”

  “I know what the word means, Tess.” Mom’s tone was firm.

  “Mom, stop treating me like a child. I’m a grown woman!”

  “That might be so, but at the moment, y
ou’re acting like you’re six and a spoiled, petulant child. Need I remind you that you still live under our roof? I’m not going to tell you again or you’re not coming to dinner at all. Now, go change and then scoot back out here to the dinner table. We’re almost ready to eat as soon as our guest arrives, and I want you here for the prayer. I believe you could benefit from it.”

  Tess hesitated in the doorway, no doubt dying to hear her inevitable interrogation.

  “Now!” Dad bellowed.

  “Yes, sir.” Uncrossing her arms, Tess stomped around the corner and down the hallway.

  Rarely did her father raise his voice to that level. Sarah only prayed Tess’s behavior—or hers—wouldn’t give him heart palpitations. Tonight, they’d failed miserably in keeping everything in the home calm, as Doc Meriweather had advised. She hoped Sam hadn’t been walking toward the front door to overhear their heated discussion. Through the open window, that would be a strong likelihood. If he’d heard anything, Sarah wouldn’t blame him if he’d decided against coming into the house of contention and promptly marched home.

  Sarah waited until she heard the bedroom door close before she faced her parents. Their expressions were stern, but they didn’t appear unduly alarmed. She kept her voice calm and low. “Sam sometimes joins me at the creek. We’re good friends. You know he’s always treated me like a kid sister.” She shrugged. “We talk and swim, have fun together.”

  “You’re a few years younger than Sam,” Mom said. “I wouldn’t entertain any romantic ideas about him, honey.” Of course not. She was the younger, plainer, taller, bigger-boned Jordan sister. The one destined for the crumbs beneath Tess’s table.

  Mom put the salad and basket of homemade rolls on the table. “However, come to think of it, Sam did seem to flirt a bit with you at the church, and I’ve heard some whispers around town. I know he comes into Perry’s every day and sits in your section.”

  “Tess has her sights on him, anyway,” Sarah muttered. Now who sounded like a pouty child? Yet another reason to leave Rockbridge. She didn’t want to be around if Sam decided to court her older sister. “End of story.” Hopefully, she’d infused her tone with sufficient finality to end the discussion. She could find a man all on her own without resorting to one of Tess’s leftovers. Not that she’d ever consider Sam Lewis a leftover in any sense of the word.