The Thorn Healer

by Pepper D. Basham

  Catherine’s eyes narrowed, sifting over Jessica’s expression like a blade in search of a weakness. “The afterglow of a romantic interchange, I do believe.”

  Heat rushed to Jessica’s face and she focused her attention on Faith.

  “Oh, how delightful. What sort? Words or something a bit... nicer?”

  Jessica twinged and cleared her throat, refusing to look up. Surely Catherine couldn’t read her thoughts.

  “Ah, nicer, I see.”

  Jess stared up at her. “How do you do that?”

  Catherine’s pixie grin spread to full proportions. “Years of well-honed skill, sweet sister. Was it a kiss?”

  Jess refused to look away and add flame to Catherine’s mind-reading skills.

  “It was.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is a good story. And what did you think?”

  If Jessica’s cheeks grew any hotter, every freckle on her face would instantly pop into the air. “What did I think?”

  Catherine’s eyes widened. “Of course. You did think something about it, didn’t you?”

  Jess mouth dropped, unhinged. She thought she’d learned the overt ways of her sister-in-law, but even with Jessica’s forceful personality and independence, she couldn’t quite combat this conversation. “I... I think it’s my particular business.”

  “I’m so glad it was a nice kiss. My first kiss was only memorable because of how perfectly dreadful it was.”

  Well, Jessica’s first kiss was dreadful, but it was also unwanted and forced. Her kiss with August awakened a longing for another sampling, a desire to share in such an intimate trust, a sudden relinquishing of her fear into his steady hands.

  Catherine leaned closer. “When they’re with the man you love, they become sweeter, more endearing.” Her brow sloped with a coy twist of her lips. “And longer.” She sighed and placed her palm over her heart. “Oh, I adore kissing your brother.”

  “That is delightful to hear.” David marched into the room, sweeping Addie up from the floor and nuzzling her neck. He tossed Catherine a grin from over Addie’s shoulder. “I assure you, my dear, the feeling is mutual.”

  Jess stood, waving her hands in the air to end the conversation. “I believe this conversation has delved into territory no sister should endure.” She took Faith into her arms and walked to David. “I’m leaving the room before demonstrations begin.”

  David laughed.

  “You’re in trouble, Jessica dear.” Catherine’s voice stopped Jessica at the door. “One kiss from the man of your heart and you’re going to spend hours contemplating the next one. Lovely contemplations, of course.”

  David caught her on the way out of the room. “He’s a good man, Jess.” He leaned to kiss her cheek. “And a lucky one.”

  “You’re speaking as if we’re marrying next week.”

  David laughed. “Jess, I’ve known you your entire life. Once you’ve set your mind to something, there’s no going back. And I’m fairly certain you’ve met your match in both determination and perseverance.”

  “David and I are strong advocates for quick weddings, aren’t we, darling?” Catherine stood and began packing more clothes into the trunk. “Those memories I had with him before he went to the Front? Those beautiful letters?” She paused in her packing to smile off into the distance. “What bliss.”

  “You’d better leave the room, Jessica.” David nudged her out into the hallway, setting Addie down onto the floor. “Would you mind terribly taking Addie down to Granny for a few minutes? I think my wife and I need our own private conversation about kissing.” His brows wiggled. “It won’t take long.”

  Jess stared at the closed door, Catherine’s laughter melting into silence on the other side, and Addie stared up at her with those bright, blue eyes.

  “Come, Addie.” Jess offered her hand. “I have a funny feeling your parents kissing conversation is going to take longer than a few minutes. Let’s go see if Granny has any apple fritters left over. I’m suddenly hungry for a substantial distraction.”

  ***

  Another mournful sound of the death drums accompanied the procession from the gates of the camp. August rubbed his weary head. Only one week since the first diagnosis, and over one hundred men showed symptoms of typhoid fever.

  This new development brought a grim reality to the camp’s situation. Lt. Col. Ames was not happy in the least. All of his plans to start removing internees met with a disappointing wire from the Surgeon General that no men could be moved at present, to Oglethorpe or anywhere else.

  August had become Captain Robinson’s, the camp doctor, as well as town doctors, Carter and Peck’s, right hand man, interpreting German and providing medical support as needed. Even dressing some of his deceased comrades for burial became a part of his routine.

  Jessica visited every afternoon, meeting him at the fence and encouraging him. But each visit intensified the longing to hold her in his arms and wipe the worry from her brow.

  As the hollow sound of the drums disappeared down Main Street toward Oddfellow’s graveyard, August joined some of his healthy comrades on the trek back to the Inn. Though Lt. Col. Ames’ men had replaced most of the civilian guard, about twenty-five remained, including Cliff, and Ruser had issued a mysterious call for both civilian guard and some trusted internees to meet with him and Ames, no doubt to discuss the ongoing investigation.

  Rumors swirled around town and even made it into the papers that he and his fellow countryman employed this self-inflicted wound to keep from going to Oglethorpe, and though no one in the camp wished to be associated with true prisoners of war, the reports were false. After watching the agonizing death of two men from the disease, no one would bring such torment on their own. Not for their countrymen. He tossed a look over his shoulder through the wire fence. But perhaps for their enemies.

  The men gathered in one of the large meeting rooms in the luxurious inn, where both Ruser and Ames stood at the head. They cut a striking contrast, yet were similar—Ruser with the snowy mane of age and Ames, taller and younger, but both carrying the readied attention and honor of veteran military as well a mutual respect, which August wished resounded beyond the reaches of the camp to any disgruntled—or worse, vengeance-seeking—men.

  “You are each aware of the gravity of our current situation,” Ames began, his deep voice booming through the room with the authority in his stance. “Captain Robinson and both Drs. Carter and Peck have worked tirelessly to treat the now one hundred and fifty-nine cases of typhoid without targeting any traitor within our gates. Since the water supply for the camp derives from various locations, we’ve decided to investigate outside the camp for a cause.”

  He turned to Ruser. “Commodore Ruser and I have agreed that a more covert attempt to capture the culprits is necessary.”

  “Dr. Peck has informed me that typhoid takes one to two weeks from contamination to the evidence of symptoms.” Ruser surveyed the room with his steely gaze. “If this situation was created by an outside force and not from natural contamination of the overcrowded conditions here, the individuals not only devised their scheme over three weeks ago, but could very well be continuing to contaminate despite our efforts with chlorine.”

  “We have called you together to begin a night watch. Both Commodore and I have selected men on the basis of your virtues, knowledge of the terrain, and utmost discretion.” Ames braided his hands behind his back and nodded toward them. “Each of you will be given a six-hour post to watch the water supply systems surrounding the camp. You are to remain in the shadows in the hopes that whoever, if anyone, is responsible for this gross violation, will be apprehended.”

  “You will be placed in pairs. Lt. Luther has the schedule which begins this evening.” Ruser’s expression softened. “May this provide a quick solution to this wasteful disability and loss of good men.”

  They were dismissed and gathered the schedule.

  “Our first night watch is tomorrow. “Cliff came to August’s side.
“They’ve paired us together.”

  “No surprise.” Cliff’s friendship chased the film of frustration to the shadows temporarily, unearthing August’s humor. “They need one for smarts and one with the freedom to carry firearms.”

  Cliff’s grin slipped into a frown. “How’s that for gratitude? I was just devising a plan to get you and my cousin alone together, but I think I’ll change my mind.”

  August stopped Cliff, searching his face, the words like a ray of sunshine into his daily service with the sick. “Together?”

  “I can tell she could use some cheering up since the Rosses left. Besides, people are starting to talk, as often as she sneaks to the fence to see you.”

  “She’s been discrete.”

  “It’s a small town, August.” Cliff shook his head, as if the answer alone explained everything. “Which means we’ll have to be particularly sneaky to make my plan work.”

  August held his breath, a smile readied for release if this strategy became a possibility. “You can accomplish this?”

  “You wouldn’t have much time, but I know what it’s like to long to be with someone you love.” His expression softened with shared grief and understanding. “Even if it’s short.”

  “I will take any moment. Anything.”

  “I know. Which means you’re going to have to do exactly what I say or they’ll ship you off to Oglethorpe on the first train.”

  ***

  “Jess, I’m so glad I found you.”

  Jessica looked away from Amy as they both opened a new shipment of medicines. Cliff bustled through the clinic door, removing his hat as he came. Her pulse startled into a rabbit run.

  “Is everyone well?”

  He hesitated and tagged on a smile for minimal reassurance to her frantic heart. Each day brought more victims of typhoid. Each day, the drums alerted the town to another procession from the camp to the graveyard, and each day, she prayed God wouldn’t let those drums beat for August.

  “Yes, all well, except Mr. Donaldson up at the train depot.”

  Jess reached to until her apron. “Mr. Donaldson? Is his cough still bothering him?”

  Cliff’s dark brows rose. “Yes, that’s it. And he was wondering if you might come have another check of his lungs.”

  Jess examined her cousin. Everything from the tilt of his smile to the gleam in his eyes pointed to some act of mischief in disguise. “Hmm, let me gather my stethoscope and I’ll be right along.”

  He nodded and stepped out onto the porch.

  Jess exchanged a glance with Amy. “He’s a horrible liar.”

  Amy laughed. “That ain’t a bad thing, Miss Jesse. I’d take a bad liar over a good one any day. Keeps back a heap of hardship.”

  With Amy’s painful background and Jess’ experiences with a German spy, she certainly agreed. “True, and more often than not, Mr. Carter’s mischief is in good humor.”

  “Well, go on and see what it’s about. We’re all in need of some good humor around here.” Amy nodded toward the boxes. “I can put these away for you to check when you come back.”

  Jess shot the young girl a smile. She’d been nothing but delightful since her apprenticeship started, and the school proved a wonderful companion for learning, allowing her to read books on medicine as well as the classics for papers and reports. Watching the girl bloom, seeing her grow beyond the stigma of her past, fed Jess’ lifelong fight to prove women’s dreams held as much value as any man’s.

  But she’d also learned the value of good men. From the men in her family to August Reinhold, although his attributes took on a very different gleam than those of her kin. No wonder the slang word for courting was ‘sparkin’ because his touch certainly ignited all sorts of interesting thoughts and desires inside her. What would it be like to have the freedom to kiss him at will, as David and Catherine clearly enjoyed? The idea spread her mind beyond any imaginings and inspired a deepening fragrance of hope in her inexperienced heart.

  She met Cliff on the porch and walked in step with him. “How is everyone in the camp?”

  “By everyone, I suppose you mean August?”

  She slit him a glare. “I meant everyone. It just so happens I have a personal interest in one over the others.”

  “It’s getting worse rather than better. Fifty more reported cases within the last three days.”

  Jess winced. This outbreak rivaled news she’d read of the growing Spanish Influenza epidemic. Fast, pervasive, and deadly. “And once it starts, we’ve no way of knowing how long it will last and how many it will take.”

  “It adds a great deal of gravity to the preciousness of life.”

  “And seizing opportunities.” She stared at him until her vision blurred, then she looked ahead to the approaching depot, searching for some levity. “Which brings me to a rather redundant conversation, cousin.”

  He raised a palm to stop her well-honed argument. “I know.”

  “She’s waiting to be swept off her feet, Cliff. You must know she’s been in love with you for months.”

  He pulled at the collar of his shirt and added a brisker step to his walk. “Point made. And... and I reckon I need to do something about that.”

  “Like take your own advice?” She rebuffed his scowl with a saccharine smile. “One good nudge deserves another.”

  His furrowed brow cleared as they took the steps to the platform. He paused at the top and studied her, his hazel eyes pinning her with their intensity. “You and David are the only siblings I’ve ever known. You both have been through so much, and I want to see you happy.” His grin spread as he scanned the platform. “I suppose you want the same for me.”

  “We each need someone who is willing to push us beyond our stubbornness, Cliff. It’s a Carter family trait.”

  He chuckled and offered his arm. She slid hers through the crook of his elbow and walked with him. Instead of going inside the station, as she’d expected, Cliff diverted their path around the side of the depot, in the shadow of the tall holly bushes framing the mustard-yellow building on either side toward a lean-to with a door barely visible though the leafy frame.

  “What are you doing?”

  He swung open the storage closet door and pushed her inside. “Providing one little way to make two of my favorite people happier today.”

  “What—” He slammed the door on her question. As soon as she drummed down the door to this closet, she planned to skin Cliff Carter for his foolish prank. Some men never grew up.

  “Mause?”

  She froze and turned, her eyes adjusting to the dim daylight filtering through the slits in the makeshift closet. Her breath congealed into the tiniest gasp. August’s silhouette materialized from the darkest corner of the space.

  He approached, bringing with him a resounding wave of heat and the warm scent of pine. His gaze penetrated the shadowy film around her, drawing her closer, leaving her breathless.

  His lips curved in a playful twist that somehow hit her directly in the pulse, sending a hum of memory over her skin from their first kiss. She’d wanted a second try for over a week, and his mouth looked so inviting. In fact, there wasn’t a single piece of him that didn’t appeal to her, from the rebellious curl over his forehead to the toe of his shoe that edged another step nearer. Her body melted toward him, responding to his wordless plea.

  “What... what are you doing here?”

  The hooded stare he gave her only enticed her rather carnal train of thought. Heat scorched the insides of her chest and throat, her gaze dropping once again to his lips as if they might be the only remedy for her internal inferno.

  “Cliff had mercy on me.” His palm slipped from her cheek and around to cradle the back of her head, tugging her forward. “My heart aches for you.”

  Her sharp intake of breath split the silence and quivered out on a tremor of air. The warmth of his touch teamed with the smolder in his eyes shot a delicious fire-trail over her skin, teasing every nerve fiber to life. She inhaled his pine scent
mixed with soap.

  “Yes.’ Her hand slid up the front of his shirt, fisting the cloth to bridge the inch between their lips. His touch brought her to life, wiping away the old stains of a malignant kiss with a delicious taste of something infinitely more exquisite.

  His mouth moved over hers, firm but pliant, almost as if he wished to massage her wounded spirit alive. It worked with powerful clarity, sending a tingle rushing through her and urging her deeper into his sweet embrace. She slid her palms up to his face, new, hot tears making another vibrant course down her cheeks, but she couldn’t help them. This was tenderness, passion, and healing all wrapped in an emotionally charged physical connection.

  And she let go of her heart to his hands, no matter what the future wrought.

  She’d starved her heart long enough and now, she drank in this sweet abundance, allowing the love he’d offered for months to pour over her stained memories and tangled assumptions with a healing flood.

  He encouraged her the freedom of exploration, pulling back from his mouth only to taste again and again with added intensity. No wonder David and Catherine found such pleasure in the practice. What divine gift was this? The very act begged for one minute longer. One more taste.

  Her fingers entwined in his hair and she grinned against his lips. “Your hair is damp.”

  Was that her voice? Breathless in the dark?

  His hand slid down the side of her neck as he murmured into her hair. “I bathed before we met to scald away any trace of the illness on my skin.” His lips warmed her jaw. “I would not have you sick, but I could not stay away.”

  She moved to pull her braid to cover her disfigured ear, but he caught her fingers in his. “Do not despise your scars, Mause.” The warmth of his breath doused the skin at the juncture of her earlobe and neckline, just before his lips touched the spot. “Your scars? My scars?” His lips moved the length of her mangled skin until his breath disappeared beneath her blouse at the base of her neck. “They have brought us to this place. To each other.” He drew back, his palms framing her face and gaze so tender, she had no response except to stare back in wonder. “I will not despise them.”