Lucky Creek Lady

by Shirley Kennedy

  How rude. Couldn’t he at least have given her a friendly hello? But then, what had she expected? She was a working girl now, not a fine lady whom all gentlemen must cater to. She had come here to work, not for some trivial visit. At the moment, Darcy McKenna was in charge, and whatever he said to do, she would do. She sat at her desk and tucked her reticule in a drawer. Tom came over with a handful of blank time sheets and sat next to her. She directed her attention to her work. With Tom helping, she soon became so immersed in the intricacies of timekeeping that the time flew by.

  Before she knew it, Tom had left. She was working on her own, and to her immense satisfaction, knew what she was doing. While she worked, a never-ending stream of miners entered the office, stayed for a quick interview and left. She’d paid no attention until a burst of especially loud laughter caused her to raise her eyes. A group of boisterous Cornish miners had entered. They all looked alike to her. Big, burly men, some with beards, wearing sturdy boots and rough working clothes. She felt nothing in common with them, especially when she heard them talk in a strange dialect she couldn’t understand. One of them laughed a lot. Young, maybe twenty-two or so, clean-shaven, tall and broad shouldered with a thick head of curly black hair. He was standing in front of Darcy’s desk and apparently had just been hired. When he caught her looking at him, he jovially called what sounded like “Allycumpooster, ma’am.”

  Allycumpooster? She frowned, trying to understand what the man just said. Darcy spoke up. “He’s from Cornwall, Miss Sinclair. That’s how they talk. What he means is all is in order and he’s happy I hired him.”

  She smiled at the man and wiggled her fingers at him. “Congratulations.”

  The man immediately strode to her desk and stuck out his hand. “Kenvern Trenowden’s the name, Miss. Those be my brothers over there. That’s Petrok, and that’s Steren.”

  Laurie looked to where the Cornishman pointed. Two men who looked remarkably like Kenvern, although older, appeared to be distressed at their brother’s boldness and were trying to wave him back. “Pay him no never mind,” one of them called. “Kenvern be not knowing his place sometimes.”

  “Quite all right,” she called. Rather than offending her, the Cornishman had brought a bit of cheer to her otherwise unexciting day. She offered her hand, watching as it totally disappeared into the Cornishman’s large, rough one. “I’m Laurie Sinclair, and I’m delighted to meet you.”

  Kenvern Trenowden beamed. “Likewise, and pardon me manners. I’m learning, you know. I won’t speak this way forever. The day will come when you understand me.” He stepped away, joined his brothers, and they hustled him out of the office in a hurry.

  Darcy called over to her, “Those Cornish miners are the best in the world. We’re lucky to have them. Don’t be offended by their rough manners.”

  Did he think she was a complete snob? “I don’t mind at all. He was only being friendly.”

  She’d hardly got back to work before the door to the office burst open, and one of the Cornish miners poked his head in, the one called Steren, she thought but wasn’t sure. Peering in her direction, he asked, “You’re Laurie?”

  The alarm in his voice caused her to rise quickly from her chair. “I’m Laurie.”

  “Then you’d best come quick. There’s a lassie outside. Said your name and fainted dead away.”

  What could he mean? Laurie rushed outside. A group of miners had gathered around the man who’d just introduced himself as Kenvern Trenowden. A limp, unconscious woman lay in his arms. Who…? Laurie drew closer. A soft gasp escaped her. “Ada!” She rushed to where the miner stood holding her. “What happened? What’s wrong with her?”

  “Don’t rightly know, ma’am. She come running up the road toward us. We could see she be anxious. Breathing hard she was, and when she got here, she cried out your name and fainted dead away.”

  Ada had never fainted before. Seeing her white-faced sister draped like a rag doll in the Cornishman’s arms was such a shock that Laurie needed a moment to find her voice. Darcy appeared, his mere presence bringing an air of command. He took one look and said, “Bring her inside.” He addressed the group of miners who’d gathered around. “The rest of you wait here.”

  Laurie followed Darcy and the miner into the office. She must think clearly. Must find a place where the miner could lay her sister down. Ahead of her, Darcy strode to the dilapidated sofa that stood unused in the corner, piled high with boxes of old ledgers and junk of all descriptions. With no regard to neatness, he began clearing it off. She joined him, frantically tossing items to the floor. Kenvern stood by, calmly holding Ada as if he might be holding a bundle of thistles in his arms. When they’d cleared the sofa, he laid Ada gently on the cushions and stepped back, shaking his head with concern. “Caught her just in time, I did, else she’d have landed in the mud.”

  Laurie knelt by Ada’s side. “Sister, are you all right? Please answer me.”

  Ada’s eyelids fluttered. She groaned and opened her eyes wide. For a moment she stared wildly around, as if she didn’t know where she was. Her lips moved, just barely at first, then in a barely audible voice, “Couldn’t find the doctor. Ran all the way.”

  “I want to hear all of it, but you must rest a minute.”

  “There’s no time to rest,” Ada cried in a desperate voice and struggled to sit up. “Little Ruthie died this morning.”

  “Oh, no,” Laurie cried out. Her heart wrenched in sympathy, not only for Ruthie but for her parents. What could be worse than losing a child?

  “That’s not all,” Ada continued. “Maryanne’s worse. Her fever’s gone up and she’s struggling to breathe.”

  “Did you send for the doctor?”

  “I knew I had to get the doctor, but how? You were gone and had taken the carriage. None of the neighbors were around except Ruthie’s parents next door, but how could I bother them when their child just died? Of course, Hugh couldn’t help, and neither could Mother. You know how she is—just so very helpless these days. That’s when Valeria said she’d go get the doctor herself. I was so grateful, Laurie. By then I didn’t want to leave Maryanne’s side.”

  “Of course, you didn’t.” Hearing the near-hysteria in her sister’s voice, Laurie spoke softly. “So, did Valeria find the doctor?”

  Ada shook her head. “I waited for what seemed like forever. Finally, Valeria came back empty-handed. No Doc Hansen. He’s at the hospital and can’t leave. There’s an epidemic going on. Every bed is full and then some. The doctor said I should bring Maryanne to the hospital, but is that the right thing to do? What can they do for her that we can’t do at home? I would have had to carry her, jostling and bouncing her about, and I didn’t think that was a good idea because she’s having trouble breathing.” Ada shook her head in dismay. “I couldn’t think what to do, so that’s when I decided to run and get you. Valeria had to leave. That awful husband of hers came and got her. The best I could do was ask Mother to sit by Maryanne’s side until we got back. So, then all I had to do was run up the mountain to the mine to get you.”

  Laurie regarded her sister with surprise. Ada hardly ever took a long walk, let alone ran up a steep mountainside. “You mean you ran all the way? I don’t know how you did it.”

  Ada’s broke into hysteria-edged laughter. “I don’t know how I did it either. Then I fainted, didn’t I?”

  “Dead away, and a big, burly miner caught you before you fell in the mud.” Laurie got to her feet. “We’ve got to get back to Maryanne. Rest here while I get the carriage.”

  Ada took a deep breath as if to steady herself. “I’ll be all right. We must get back fast as we can.”

  Laurie’s mind raced. First, she must catch Brownie and Prancer, who’d been turned out to graze. Then she’d have to hitch up the curricle, which would take extra time because she was so new at it. She’d hurry fast as she could.

  Darcy had been quiet
ly standing by. He stepped up and declared, “I’ll take care of it. Wait here with your sister.” Without giving her the chance to answer, he hurried from the office. Minutes later, he returned and announced, “I’ve rounded up your horses and hitched them to the carriage. Are we ready to go?”

  “We?”

  “I’m driving.”

  “But you have a mine to run. I wouldn’t have thought—”

  His eyes slightly narrowed. “You’re wasting time. If you want to drive, fine, but if you want to get back fast as you can, I’ll drive, not you.”

  “Let’s go.” Whether she liked him or not, he was right. She wouldn’t waste time arguing.

  Darcy drove the three of them down the mountain at a speed Laurie would never have attempted. The pine trees became a blur of green as they raced by, but somehow, she wasn’t terrified. Darcy’s calm bearing and sure grip on the reins gave assurance he knew what he was doing. When they arrived, Darcy told them he wasn’t leaving. He’d wait in the carriage, and if they needed to take Maryanne to the hospital he’d be there to take her.

  Laurie had held out hope that her niece would be better by now, but the truth hit hard the moment she stepped into the children’s room. Maryanne lay limp and still, eyelids half closed, cheeks flushed with fever. When Laurie sat next to her and laid a palm on her feverish forehead, she started to cough, a rough, hacking kind of cough that sounded horrible. She started struggling for breath.

  Mother had been sitting by the bed, her face lined with worry and fatigue. She rose and declared, “The mustard plasters aren’t helping. Nothing is. I’ll tell Hugh you’ve returned, but he can’t do anything either.”

  Ada stood wringing her hands. “See how Maryanne’s throat is swollen? What if it swells completely shut? What shall we do then?”

  For a moment, Laurie closed her eyes. The weight of the world had just descended on her shoulders, and she wasn’t sure she could bear it. Her little niece had contracted a deadly disease and could very well die, as so many did, especially little children. But many pulled through, and if she had anything to say about it, Maryanne would be among the survivors. “We must do all we can to save her.”

  “But how?” Ada pleaded in a desperate voice. “Should we keep her here and give her another mustard plaster? Should we take her to the hospital? What do you think, Laurie? You’re the one who’s got to decide.”

  And just like that, she was the one in charge now. She, Laurie Sinclair, former free-from-care debutante, would be making the decisions. Up to now, reliability and responsibility had never been her strong points, but whether she liked it or not, she was in charge. Maryanne’s life lay in her hands. A decision must be made, and she would make it. Nothing to be gained from waiting around. “No more mustard plasters. I’m taking Maryanne to the hospital. You must stay here, Ada. Mother and Hugh need you, and you must keep an eye on Mathew. God forbid he might come down with it, too.”

  With Ada’s help, she bundled Maryanne in blankets, carried her downstairs and out to the front where Darcy sat waiting in the carriage. He’d brought his horse, tied behind the carriage, and could leave any time. She stopped short and looked up at him. “Ada was right. Maryanne needs to get to the hospital. Should I drive so you can get back to the mine? It’s a deadly disease, Mr. McKenna. It’s only fair I tell you in case you don’t want to be exposed to it.”

  Darcy fairly sprang from the carriage and took the little girl in his arms. “I’ll do the driving. You climb in, and I’ll hand her up to you.”

  “Then you don’t mind? It’s diphtheria, after all, and—”

  “For God’s sakes, just get in.”

  * * * *

  When they entered the hospital, Darcy carrying Maryanne in his arms, they found the place packed to overflowing. The nurse greeted them briefly. “No more beds, just the floor.” She pressed some blankets into Laurie’s arms. “The doctor will see her when he can.” She scurried off before they could ask anything.

  They found an empty spot on the floor between two other children who looked feverish and had that awful hacking cough and laid Maryanne between them. By now she lay listless and burning with fever. Her neck had swollen, and the bouts of coughing were ever more frequent. She was having trouble breathing, at times struggling for every breath. Laurie sat on the floor beside her. “I’ll get her some water,” Darcy said. As he walked away, Laurie wondered if he would take the time to stay.

  When he returned with the water, he sat next to Maryanne on the other side. With the greatest of care, he held her head up slightly and tipped a bit of water into her mouth. He dipped a clean handkerchief in the water in the glass and gently brushed it against her lips. “She needs liquids,” he said. “Mustn’t let her get too dry.”

  “It looks as if you’ve done this before.”

  “I had eleven brothers and sisters. Once when there was an epidemic, four of them came down with scarlet fever. It’s a different disease but just as nasty. Some of the symptoms are the same.”

  Funny, she’d never thought that he might have a family, but of course he did. She hesitated to ask but had to know. “Did they live?”

  “Two died. We couldn’t afford a doctor, but I doubt we could have saved them anyway.” He suddenly frowned, as if realizing how discouraging he sounded. “Doc Hansen’s an excellent doctor. I’ve heard nothing but good things about him.”

  So, he had brothers and sisters? Where did he come from? What sort of childhood did he have? She’d never thought to inquire before, never had the least interest in the life of a man who constantly annoyed her. But now wasn’t the time to ask. She was grateful, and more than a little surprised he’d gone to all this trouble for a little girl he hardly knew. “It’s awfully kind of you to take the time. I mean, I know how busy you are at the mine.”

  He took his time answering. “There are times when you have to figure what’s important in this life and what isn’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

  So, he would stay, thank goodness. She didn’t want to be alone. She accepted his answer and argued no further. After all, she couldn’t expect more from a man so closemouthed. Clearly any further expressions of gratitude wouldn’t be appreciated. They sat waiting. Occasionally she could see the doctor moving from patient to patient, besieged by family members, so overwhelmingly in demand that as anxious as she was that he get to Maryanne, she sat quietly, patiently awaiting her turn. When at last Doc Hansen arrived and knelt by Maryanne’s side, Laurie gave him a quick greeting and lapsed into silence. No need to describe her niece’s symptoms. What could she say that he couldn’t see for himself? In an agony of suspense, she watched while he listened to her chest with his stethoscope, laid his hand for a few seconds on her forehead, peered into her mouth. Finally, he stood and motioned to her and Darcy to step away from where Maryanne could hear.

  “It’s diphtheria. I can tell from the grey patch at the back of her throat.”

  Oh no, oh, no. Somehow, she’d clung to the possibility that maybe Maryanne was suffering from a bad cold or the influenza, but the doctor’s pronouncement shattered her last hope. “What can we do?” she asked, her voice rising to a near-hysterical level. But she mustn’t lose control, must remain calm for Maryanne’s sake. More softly, she continued, “I mean there must be something we can do.”

  “She’s burning up with fever. Best you take her home and put cool cloths on her forehead.”

  Darcy asked, “Is there some kind of cough syrup she should take?”

  “You could try, but I doubt it would do any good.”

  Laurie flung out her hands in simple despair. “That’s all?”

  Doc Hansen nodded gravely. “I wish we had a cure, but there isn’t one. If she continues to have trouble breathing, and she very well might, you could try the treatment for croup. Boil some water in a kettle and get the steam up. Put a towel over her head and have her breathe the steam. Sometimes
it helps.”

  “Sometimes?” She heard the desperation in her voice and didn’t care.

  The doctor heaved a deep sigh. “Sometimes.”

  She remembered Ruthie, and how she died. “But what if her breathing gets worse? What if she can’t breathe at all?”

  “Well…” Head bowed, Doc Hansen lapsed into silence, as if in deep thought, weighing a decision he must make.

  When would he speak? Losing her last shred of patience, she burst out, “Please tell me, Doctor. There must be something we can do.”

  “There is, but it’s highly unlikely you could use such a method. I only mention it because you’re insisting.”

  “I understand. What is it? Tell me.”

  “Mind you, this can only be used as a last resort. It’s a procedure known as a tracheotomy. It’s recognized as a legitimate means of treating a severe airway obstruction.”

  “I never heard of it.”

  “Neither have most people, and that includes many doctors. Obviously, I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never done one, nor do I intend to. It’s a surgical procedure that involves using a scalpel to make an incision on the anterior aspect of the neck. That’s the front of the neck. It opens a direct airway to the trachea, which is the windpipe. The resulting stoma, or what you would call a hole, serves independently as an airway. Then a tube is inserted so the patient can breathe without the use of the nose or mouth.”