He grabbed for the blanket at the end of the bed and covered her legs.
“I’ll get that.” Her words sounded as if she was ready to burst into tears. “No need for you to wait on me and worry.”
Not worry? She might as well have told him not to breathe.
*
For a while there, Victoria had nearly let the wall fall down. Had almost decided Joe was up to the task of facing whatever was wrong with her. But sentencing him to a life of servitude to a woman who couldn’t give him a family, a home, only a sickly wife, wasn’t the right thing to do. Victoria knew that better than most. She had seen her uncle Jack take care of her aunt for fifteen years before Aunt Edith finally passed away, a withered, broken shell of a woman.
Father’s youngest sister, Edith, had fallen ill with scarlet fever on her honeymoon. No one thought she would survive, but after three months of constant nursing, she’d come through the worst of it. Still, she hadn’t been right after that. As a child, Victoria had overheard her mother mention once to her father that she thought the fever had affected Aunt Edith’s heart.
Her heart. Victoria shuddered. She’d had some high fevers as a child. Could it have been that? Surely not. Doctors knew all about high fevers. None of them had suggested that might have caused her problem.
Aunt Edith hadn’t been allowed to have children, so she and Uncle Jack grew old and alone together. With Aunt Edith in bed much of the time.
No one came right out and said for sure what was wrong and children weren’t allowed to ask such things, but Victoria understood now just how much Uncle Jack had given up in life for his darling Edith. He had tended to her every need each night when he came in from work.
Victoria recalled one instance when Aunt Edith had taken so much time in the kitchen just to get tea into the cups for her visitors, and how she had to sit right away in a special chair to catch her breath, her legs covered with a lap robe. She’d wanted to do a lot more things; her mother explained to Victoria she simply couldn’t. What a life, sitting in a chair most of the time. What had she done all day when there were no visitors? Stared at the wall until Uncle Jack came home? Read books? Maybe she knitted; Victoria did remember getting a pretty scarf from them one Christmas. Would that be enough for Victoria…knitting?
Would she even be well enough to do that? What if this Dr. Gross had no reason to believe he could repair her heart? What if she sat in a chair the rest of her life with a lap robe on her legs? When Joe had covered her feet, that was all she’d thought at that moment. It was why she’d told him it was time to leave.
Victoria was not about to allow Joe to come home to a sickly wife each night. No chance of a…real life together. No children. Her face warmed. She rubbed her cheeks. Silly to be foolish about it when she didn’t yet know all that her illness entailed.
The truth was, she understood the birds and bees enough to realize that if her heart was bad they couldn’t…have the family she wanted. No. If she allowed Joe to creep one more inch into her heart, she wouldn’t be able to let go, and this wasn’t any kind of life for a strong, strapping man like Joseph. A man who would want a whole wife.
She fell against her pillow, tears pooling for what must have been the dozenth time in the last forty-eight hours. Then she pulled the pillow to her chest and punched it. Punched it hard. She had to make a difficult stand. Tomorrow. Tomorrow Joe had to realize they could just be friends and only as long as it took for her father to get to Boston. After that there was no reason whatsoever why he should see her again.
*
Before the sun could ease through the boring brown curtains of his hotel room, Joe fitfully rolled over in bed as he had done all night. Not sleeping, not really awake. Caught between sleep and fear. Fear for Victoria and what this trip might mean for her future.
He plumped the pillow and closed his eyes again. Five more minutes and then he’d give up if he didn’t doze off. With closed eyes, all he saw was a smiling face. More alive than a newborn. More beautiful than nature. More desirous than his first chocolate malt. Now, that brought a smile to his face. Sitting up, he eased his arms over his head and stretched. He’d need every ounce of strength to convince her he would love her no matter the outcome in Boston. That is, if he ever got the courage to tell her in the first place.
Didn’t she realize that if he had to hold her in his arms every day without reward to keep her safe, to keep her happy and content, then so be it. He loved her that much.
He pulled back the matching dull brown quilt and jumped from the bed, wasting no more time. A quick wash up and he’d head for the hospital. Maybe he’d have a chance to talk seriously with Victoria before they caught a cab to the train station.
A knock on his door caught him before he grabbed his jacket.
“There’s a call for you downstairs, sir. A Mr. Banks?”
Joe dropped a coin in the boy’s hand and sprinted for the stairs.
The clerk held the phone aloft and motioned for Joe to step behind the counter. He dropped into a chair offered, and the other man stepped away.
“Art? What’s going on?”
“Well, I shouldn’t worry you about it, but to be honest…can you hear me all right, son?”
“Yessir.”
“Must be scratchy on my end. Well, then. Good thing you thought I should stay behind. Supervisor called me and said the roof job’s not going forward. He arrived at the site this morning and found the owner there. Owner told him that the bank withdrew the funds. That’s all I know for now, but guess I’ll be spending the day trying to right the problem. I just wanted you to be aware I’ll be out and away from the phone. And I don’t want Mother getting any upsetting news with me not home. So if you could wait till later in the evening whenever you call us, I’d appreciate that. Reverse the charges, of course.”
“Art, I doubt we’ll know much before we leave this morning.”
“I know, but just in case. Mother is full of pain medication and I don’t want her worrying. Cleewell is sending her home later this morning with the lady from church to watch over her. I’ll try to fix this mess, and then I’ll be home to take over. I don’t want you worrying, Joseph. Just take care of our girl.”
Joe thanked the clerk and dashed up the stairs to get his coat. Why on earth would the banker stop a loan to the restaurant owner? From what Art had said, the man’s business was doing very well. This was one of the first really big commercial agreements Art had contracted. Wysse usually landed the commercial work and Art the residential. This would have been a great chance for them to grow in Howell. So strange. The restaurant owner had been adamant that Art get the bid and they had been ready to go forward.
When might the Banks family have a little good news for a change?
*
Joe hefted the suitcase Victoria had ready and waiting onto the bed. “So, you have everything packed?” He couldn’t help noticing her sweater hung on her a bit. Had she lost weight that quickly? He hated this not knowing.
“All ready.”
The morning nurse, Mrs. Siek, plastered on what was probably a well-practiced smile for patients facing the unknown. “We’ll miss this girl.” She spoke to Joe. “She’s going to be just fine.” Then she turned to Victoria with an envelope in her hand. “These are to go to Hospital Admitting. Be sure they get it and put the paperwork into your chart. Dr. Weatherford’s number is on there if they want to speak with him. And there’s one more paper for you to sign before you leave.”
Joe had watched her sign two sheets already. How many more were there?
Siek laid a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you take your bag and her suitcase down to the front and hail a cab? I’ll bring Miss Banks out.” She stepped into the hallway for a second and returned with a wheelchair.
Victoria’s face fell…hard. “I have to go in a wheelchair?”
“Yes, ma’am. Hospital policy.” Siek still had the same smile, only Joe noticed it didn’t reach her eyes. To him, it festered on her face
like a sore. Healing but painful. Did she put on such a show for all her patients? Of course she must. It was part of the job to always appear optimistic and happy.
Victoria looked as lost as Joe had ever seen her. He grabbed his coat from his shoulders and started to drape it over her legs before he went for the cab.
Her face warned him off before she shouted, “Stop that!”
Chapter 10
Joe and Victoria left the South Station and stopped only long enough for Joe to register at the Shamrock and leave his bag. Victoria waited in the cab, wishing the cabbie would crank up the heat some. The two-and-a-half-day train ride had been unbearable. After screaming at Joe at the hospital, she had barely spoken to him on the trip to Boston, too ashamed of her behavior to broach the subject. She’d been raised better than that. And no amount of self-pity permitted this kind of attitude. After all, it wasn’t Joe’s fault she was ill. It was no one’s fault. It was just the way it was.
Maybe it was for the best. This way she wouldn’t even need to bring up the friend issue she had decided on.
Joe slid into the front without looking over his shoulder. “New England Medical Center, please.”
She didn’t miss how tight his jaw was, pulsing with each word. He was beyond angry. He was downright mad. At her. Had been the entire trip. Well, what did she expect? She had treated him very poorly on the train. Hours and hours of no talking until it was time to grab a pillow and catch some shut-eye. Then it started all over again the next day. They had barely spoken at stops or when they shared meals. Only enough to say pass the salt please or could I have the ketchup? Victoria stifled a scream. She longed to yell how unfair all of this was to her, to Joe, to her parents. She thought she’d dealt with these feelings already, but apparently not. She still included whining in her prayers each night, but God didn’t seem to mind or to be listening at the moment.
The flutters in her chest and the shortness of breath hadn’t eased up for a second.
Victoria chewed the edge of her lip the way she used to do when pitching. A habit her mother tried her best to keep her from. “Thank you for accompanying me to the hospital, Joe.”
He gazed straight ahead. “You’re welcome. I promised your father.”
The cabbie’s head turned slightly when Joe spoke; then he looked into the rearview mirror. “And a promise to a father is a promise, miss.”
Joe raised his eyebrows. “Thanks. I can speak for myself.”
The cabbie replaced his smile with a scowl and looked straight ahead.
“Sorry—” Victoria sighed “—that this trip has inconvenienced you. I doubt my father would have wanted that. I know I don’t.”
She slunk farther into the seat. She couldn’t even find a reason to get upset. His aloofness was well deserved even if the timing did seem poor at best. The cabbie looked as if someone had slapped him for trying to be nice.
“Well, thank you anyway.” She gazed at the driver in the rearview mirror. “And thank you.” He nodded but kept his eyes on the road ahead.
Sooner than expected, they stopped. Joe tipped the driver, extra if Victoria saw correctly, no doubt feeling guilty for his rudeness. Then he strode to the back of the cab. If she’d had the ability to sprint out the door, she would have. Instead she waited patiently for Joe to get out the suitcase. The cabbie opened the door for her, his smile back in place. “Miss?”
The building was huge. No wonder amazing medicine happened here. She hadn’t seen anything like it before.
Would Dr. Gross come over from Children’s Hospital today, or would they get her settled first?
Whatever the hospital decided, she was sure Joe would leave as soon as he could, pleasing them both. He’d barely said a word to her.
This time, an orderly rolled out the wheelchair and met her at the curb. Her insides withered like a vine. No sense fighting it any longer. She climbed in, no questions asked this time.
*
Joe steadied the suitcase and strolled along behind Victoria and the orderly. As soon as they entered, he gave a nod to the fabulous facility. A far cry from Dr. Cleewell’s clinic, though Joe couldn’t complain. Cleewell did a great job for the citizens of Howell. In spite of the fact that the clinic was housed in one of the older residential buildings in Howell. A three-story brick mansion that had been donated to Cleewell when Mr. Millberg, one of the past mayors, had passed away. Cleewell made great use of it. Old house or modern facility, Joe hated hospitals and all they represented.
A clang startled Victoria. Joe glimpsed a rolling cart with metal bedpans on it; one had fallen, making all the noise. The orderly shouted, “Way to go, Biggs. Good thing they were empty.” A quick frown from the guard in the front brought an end to that exchange.
Following the signs, they were directed to Admissions. A woman in a black dress who sported severe gray waves motioned for him to enter. “Who are you bringing in, sir?”
“Victoria Banks.”
“Oh, yes. We’ve been expecting you folks. Are you the one who will be making arrangements for Mrs. Banks, sir?”
“Yes, ma’am. Here’s the paperwork from Dr. Weatherford in Lansing.” Did she say Mrs.?
“Thank you. And you’ll be the one responsible for your wife’s…expenses?”
Victoria didn’t seem to catch that. She’d have plenty to say if she had. No doubt making it very clear Joe wasn’t her husband, wasn’t her anything. “Not my wife. She’s a friend, but yes, I’ll be making those arrangements. May we get her settled first?” Then the woman eyed him warily. He was making a mess of things. “Her mother is ill and neither of her parents could come along. I work with her father and am a friend of the family. It fell to me to bring her.”
Victoria’s head snapped up and her gaze narrowed on him. He guessed he’d said the wrong thing…again.
“Ma’am. She’s very tired. Maybe the gentleman could take her to her room.”
“Very well.” To the young man, she raised her eyebrows. “Two fourteen. And don’t dillydally.” Despite the slight frown to the orderly, she immediately replaced it with a smile for Victoria. Must have been an expression she repeated quite often. Once they left, she addressed Joe. “Of course. She’ll be fine with James while you and I talk. We should take care of matters right away. That way there won’t be any misunderstandings.”
Joe raised his voice slightly so Victoria could hear. “I’ll bring your suitcase when I come up.”
She didn’t look back, just murmured, “Fine.”
The woman held out her hand. “My name is Mrs. Mapes. If you’d come this way.”
Joe followed her to a small desk. “We expect Miss Banks will be here at the very least for three days. I prepared this ahead of time so you’d have an idea of costs. This is the amount for three days’ stay.” She pushed a paper toward him with dozens of items listed. “That will have to be paid before the doctor comes in. Once he begins tests, we’ll have a better understanding of what the expenses will be. I’ll consult with you on a daily basis. That should work fine, don’t you think, Mr….?”
“Joseph.” No, she was all business. No sense pretending otherwise. “Mr. Huntington will be fine.” She seemed pleased that he returned a sense of formality.
“Mr. Huntington, we can take a check or cash. Would you like a minute?”
“Thank you.”
She stepped out and he was glad. Didn’t want her to see him scrounging through his wallet.
He drew the envelope from his pocket and counted out the amount she had quoted him from the cash he had left. No problem. Art had included enough for twice that many days. But he did have cabs back and forth. It was such a short distance, maybe he’d walk and try to save some more of the money.
Turning in his chair, he searched for Mrs. Mapes. She made eye contact with that painted-on half smile and returned to the desk.
“Here you are, Mrs. Mapes.”
She accepted the money and passed him a receipt. All the while, Joe was concerned about Vict
oria. He wanted to sit with her, despite the uneasiness between them on the train ride. If only he could offer some peace, some calm to her. That’s why he was here, after all. Staying angry over his hurt feelings didn’t serve much purpose.
After asking for her room number again, he excused himself, but not without Mrs. Mapes donning a look that said there had better not be any funny business. Seemed to Joe that he rubbed older women the wrong way lately. He chuckled, remembering the grandmotherly woman at the recital who had given the impression she thought he was gaping at little girls. Did he have that kind of face? He sure hoped not.
*
Was Victoria sore at Joe again? She searched her soul and realized she wasn’t sure. All things considered, he’d upended his life, put it on hold for her. He didn’t have to do that. She could have traveled alone. It wasn’t as if she was helpless, but no matter how much she argued with herself, in the end it sure felt good to have him beside her.
James gave her his arm and she switched from the wheelchair to the edge of the bed.
“Thank you.” He wheeled the chair to the corner and pushed it out of the way.
“Anything I can get you before I leave?”
He’d been kindness itself. Perhaps everyone here would be the same. “No, thank you.”
“All righty, then.” He swung out the door, energy galore, and she was a smidge jealous. Oh, she didn’t begrudge him his energy; she simply longed for some herself.
This wasn’t a ward like in Lansing. This was a semiprivate room. Her throat clogged again. More expense for her father. For her, once she started paying him back.
Thankful he had the huge restaurant job, she relaxed for a minute, remembering how he’d hopped around the kitchen, so out of character for him, when he landed the contract. He’d grabbed her mother and swung her through the air. “Things are looking up, Mother. Really looking up.” Then he’d glanced at Victoria. “I just might be able to help you with the first month’s rent on an apartment if that’s still what you’d like to do. I know how cramped you feel living with Mom and Dad.” He’d reached over and clipped her chin. “And you never complain.”
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