Whispers of the Wind

by Frances Devine

  Surprised, she threw him a confused look.

  “Well Doctor, if you know about it, I’m surprised you haven’t already begun to utilize it for Lily Ann.”

  He smiled. “Of course, how could you be expected to know when I haven’t yet discussed this with you? Lily Ann is only six. She has plenty of time to learn to read and write. And as you say, she’s very bright. When her sight is restored she’ll learn quickly.”

  Joy coursed through Abigail. “Her blindness isn’t permanent? Oh Dr. Quincy, that is wonderful news. I had no idea. Is she to have some sort of treatment or surgery?”

  “Yes. Of course. I constantly search for a specialist who will be able to help her. And I have no doubt that someday, with God’s help, I’ll succeed.”

  Confusion shot through her. Wait. What was he saying? “Dr. Quincy.” Her words came out barely above a whisper. “Do you mean you haven’t actually found someone to help her, but are only hoping?”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “And are you saying I should stop hoping?”

  “Of course not.” She snapped the words then swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You should never give up hope. But in the meantime, shouldn’t you give her every chance to learn to read and write? It might be years before you find anyone to help her. And there is no guarantee, is there?”

  He pushed up from the bench, and the glance he gave her seemed cool. “I’ll think about it. Come. I’ll escort you back to the house now. I have patients to see this afternoon.”

  They returned to the house in silence; then Trent bowed and headed around to the barn to get Warrior.

  Abigail, dismayed at the turn of events, was near tears as she entered the foyer. She ran upstairs and washed her face then stepped to her window and pulled the curtain aside. She watched as Albert led Warrior out of the barn. Trent mounted and took off at a gallop. She composed herself and went down to the parlor, where she found Helen and Virgie.

  They both glanced up, obviously eager for good news.

  “Uh-oh. Bad news?” Helen’s lips drew downward at the corners.

  Abigail gave a loud sigh and shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. You aren’t going to believe this.”

  She told them about her conversation with Trent. “Did anyone know he was trying to find someone who could restore her sight?”

  Helen shook her head. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “It almost seemed as though he was afraid if he allowed us to teach her Braille, it would mean he had stopped believing.”

  Abigail glanced at Virgie, who silently rocked her chair.

  “Virgie, do you know why he is so adamant about this?”

  The old lady lifted her still-sharp dark brown eyes. “If I know anything, it don’t mean I’m telling anyone anything.”

  “But, Virgie. If I could only understand. I’m so angry right now. This isn’t fair to Lily Ann.”

  Helen stood and gave her a sympathetic glance. “I’m going upstairs to rest awhile before supper. We’ll just have to keep praying.”

  When the door closed, Abigail glanced at Virgie and met her waiting eyes.

  Virgie sighed. “Miss Abigail, I’m goin’ tell you something because I believe you care about Dr. Trent, and I don’t want you thinking bad about him.”

  Abigail listened with tears flowing as Virgie told her the details of Lily Ann’s accident and the agony of guilt that Trent had taken upon himself.

  “But why does he think it was his fault? Have Lily Ann’s parents blamed him in any way?”

  “No, they beg him not to blame himself. No one could have done anything to stop that poor old crazy horse.” Tears filled Virgie’s eyes. “But my sweet Trent, he always been sensitive and for some reason he blames himself for that baby’s misfortune.”

  Abigail fought back tears as she went upstairs to change for supper. Somehow she’d get through to Trent. She had to. For his sake. And for Lily Ann’s. Because Lily’s future was at stake here. She cast a quick prayer up to God to heal Trent’s heart and to make him see how wrong he was to allow his grief to deprive the child of a better future.

  ten

  Who would have thought the first week of September would feel like the middle of summer? Abigail fanned herself with the cover of the fairy tale book from which she’d just read to the children. Realizing what she was doing, she shut the book and laid it on her desk.

  Even the occasional whiff of air that blew in through the open windows was hot. The children didn’t seem to mind at all. She wondered how these Southern boys and girls would handle the ice and occasional snow of the capital. Probably just fine. She shook her head. No extreme of weather seemed to faze children.

  The oppressive heat bothered her far worse now than it had during the scorching July and August sun. Perhaps because she had looked forward to this month for a reprieve. September had always been one of her favorite months, heralding the beginning of cooler weather and drawing closer to the holidays. Why had she not realized the fall season wouldn’t start as early in the South?

  She couldn’t help the grateful sigh that escaped when the bell sounded. Relieved that she had an hour before her next class, she went to her room and splashed some water on her face. Unbuttoning her top two buttons, she ran a cool cloth over her neck. She should go over the lesson for the next class, but the room was so stifling. She rebuttoned her dress and went downstairs and out through the back door. Perhaps the shade from the many large oaks in the backyard would provide a little relief.

  Spying Albert near the barn, she headed in that direction and hailed him. “Hi, Albert. How are you today?”

  “Just fine, Miss Abigail. How you be today?”

  “Hot. And you look cool as a cucumber. How do you do it?”

  Chuckling, he shook his grizzled head “I’s used to it, I reckon. Lived in these parts all my life.”

  She nodded and smiled at the good-natured old man. “I guess that explains it.” She peeked around the barn door to see if Trent’s horse was there. Ever since she’d spoken to him about Braille for Lily Ann, he’d made himself scarce. When he did show up at the school, he avoided her like the yellow fever. Not seeing Warrior, she heaved a sigh.

  Albert sent her a knowing glance. “You looking for Dr. Trent?”

  Heat rushed to her face. “Why would you say that?”

  “Humph. Maybe cause you craning your neck to see if his horse in the barn.”

  She bit her lip. “Albert, I am not. Anyway, he’ll more than likely never speak to me again. I overstepped my place again about Lily Ann. But I didn’t know the accident happened in his yard or that he blamed himself.”

  He gave a solemn nod. “That be a sad day. But don’t you worry none. If Dr. Trent mad at you, he get over it soon enough. Don’t you know he sweet on you, same as you be on him?”

  Heat blazed up in her face again. “What a thing to say. I most certainly am not sweet on the doctor.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” His knowing eyes belied the words.

  Abigail blew her breath out in a huff. “I do say so. I have to get back inside. Have a good day.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I sure will. You have a good day, too.” He chuckled again.

  “Oh, fiddlesticks.” She whirled, stomped across the yard, and flounced into the house. She leaned against the door and fanned herself with her handkerchief. That hadn’t been very smart. Now here she was perspiring like a racehorse. The lacy handkerchief became a blotter as she pressed it against her damp forehead.

  The day passed slowly, and by suppertime Abigail’s head throbbed and ached. She excused herself early and fell into bed with the cool cloth Virgie had pressed into her hand. By morning her headache had eased some. In the middle of her sign language class, the breeze picked up a little. Abigail’s heart quickened at the welcome sound of raindrops on the roof.

  The rain had stopped by the end of class, and the grass didn’t seem to be so much as damp, so Abigail gave in to Lily Ann’s pleas to have h
er lessons outside. With an armful of books, she took Lily’s hand and started toward the woods behind the house.

  A few drops of moisture clung to the branches of the trees as they made their way through the thick foliage to their special tree. Lily Ann squealed at the occasional drop that fell on her. Abigail laughed. She hoped the slight rainfall was the beginning of cooler weather.

  She spread a blanket upon the thick grass beneath the huge live oak tree, and she and Lily Ann seated themselves. Abigail opened the spelling book. “All right, here we go. Spelling first.” She read the first word to Lily Ann, and the little girl spelled it back perfectly. After the spelling lesson was complete, they spent a little while on signs. When they’d finished the last one, Lily Ann clapped her hands.

  “Now it’s time for Alice. Right, Miss Abigail?” Lily Ann’s face glowed. Story time was her favorite. Sometimes Abigail felt the little girl would live in the fantasy lands she loved so well.

  “Yes, but what is the full title of our story?” She had no doubt Lily Ann knew it.

  “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. And Mr. Lewis Carroll is the author.” She gave a smile of satisfaction, confident she was correct.

  “Very good. Do you remember what Alice was doing when we left off yesterday?” Abigail used every opportunity to exercise Lily Ann’s memory. It would help her in every skill she attempted.

  “She opened a tiny door with a key. And when she peeked through the door, she saw a garden inside.”

  “And did Alice go through the door and into the garden?”

  A giggle trilled from Lily Ann’s lips. “No. ’Course not. The door is too tiny, and Alice is too big.”

  “You’re right. How silly of me. Are you ready to find out what happens next?” Abigail slid her finger in front of the blue bookmark and opened the book.

  A gust of wind swept across the small clearing, riffling the pages of the book and blowing leaves and grass across their laps.

  Abigail’s hair came loose from her combs and blew into her eyes and face.

  Lily Ann let out a little scream. “Miss Abigail!”

  “I’m here.” Abigail scrambled to her feet, gripping the book with one hand and reaching for Lily Ann’s hand with the other. “Don’t be afraid. It’s just wind, but I believe we’d better get back to the house. The sky is dark overhead. We don’t want to get caught in the rain.”

  The little girl squeezed Abigail’s hand tightly.

  “Hurry, Teacher. Hurry.” Her voice shook. “I don’t like the sounds in the wind. They aren’t whispers anymore. They’re very bad sounds.”

  Abigail put her arm around Lily Ann’s small shoulders, and she guided her forward as fast as she could without risking her falling. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It’s only the wind you hear.”

  The child’s body shook, whether with fear or chill Abigail couldn’t tell. As they burst from the woods, the rain began to fall in torrents. Abigail tried to cover the child’s head with her arm. The wind had increased until it was all she could do to keep them both on their feet. Small hailstones began to pelt the ground around them.

  Suddenly Albert appeared before them. He swept Lily Ann across his shoulder and grabbed Abigail’s arm. He hurried them to the back of the house, where Virgie held the screen door open with both hands. The moment they were in the house, the door slammed shut.

  Albert placed Lily Ann in Virgie’s waiting arms and steadied Abigail. Water poured from the three of them and onto the floor.

  Virgie tossed her a towel and started swabbing Lily Ann down with the other.

  As Abigail wrung water from her skirt and dried herself off as well as she could, she turned to Albert. “Where did it come from all of a sudden?”

  “Must have been a cyclone around here somewhere. I think it going right over us, but it just come out of nowhere with no warning. No time to even get the young’uns to the storm cellar.”

  He must be talking about a tornado, Abigail thought. “Is it gone now? Should we get the children to the cellar?”

  “Too late. They all in the dining room with the other teachers, praying under the table.” He glanced out the window. “Anyways, I think it’s done gone.”

  The wind had decreased. Abigail could scarcely hear it at all, and the rain had dwindled to a light drizzle.

  Felicity appeared in the doorway. Relief crossed her faced when she saw them safely inside.

  Lily Ann had calmed down under Virgie’s gentle hands and willingly followed her housemother upstairs for dry clothing before the midday meal.

  Abigail followed, bunching up her wet skirt to keep it from dragging across the hardwood floors and carpet. At least her headache was gone.

  ❧

  Trent dismounted in the Taneys’ yard and stared in dismay at their demolished farmhouse. Sections of roof were scattered across the garden and potato patch, and only the wall with the chimney remained. The stark sunlight after the storm only made the shambles look worse. Jim Taney sat on a stump, his head in his hands while his wife, Lucy, who was heavy with child, huddled near him, their two small children clutched in her arms.

  A wagon pulled into the yard and Jim’s brother, Hal, jumped down. “Jim! Lucy! Is everyone all right?”

  Jim looked up, his eyes bloodshot and agony on his face. “Do we look all right?” He waved his hand around. “Does this look all right to you?”

  Hal hunkered down by his brother. “We’ll get it rebuilt, Jim. I know it’s hard to imagine, but this ain’t the end. And you have your wife and children. Thank the Lord for that, man.”

  Trent stepped forward and ran a professional eye over Lucy. “How do you feel?”

  She sighed and stood, rubbing her back. “I’m okay, Doc. Just a little aching here and there.”

  “You’ll need to lie down and rest as soon as possible. What are your immediate plans? Do you have a place to stay?”

  “They’ll stay with me and Irma till their house is back together,” Hal said. “Don’t worry, Doc. My Irma will see to Lucy.”

  Trent nodded. Irma Taney was a midwife and had delivered most of the babies in the area until Trent opened his practice. And there were still some women who were more comfortable with her. “If you need me, send someone.”

  “I will, Doc.”

  Trent mounted his horse and took off toward the school, where he’d been headed when he saw the storm-damaged home.

  God, please let them all be safe.

  He’d spotted the funnel cloud when he was visiting one of his patients. It had headed in the direction of the school. But he had no idea how long it stayed on the ground or even if it continued on the same path. He could only hope and pray.

  He didn’t know he was holding his breath until he let it out in a loud whoosh of relief when he saw the house standing whole and solid, just as it always had.

  He rode around back and dismounted in front of the barn.

  Albert, who was puttering with something on the ground, looked up from his hunkered position.

  “How’s everything here?” Trent asked.

  Albert pushed his old slouch hat back and looked up. “Everything fine here, Dr. Trent. No one hurt, but we had a little scare there for a while.”

  “What happened? Did you see the tornado?”

  “Naw, sir. But the wind and rain be awful strong. Couldn’t hear myself think over the noise. It rained mighty hard and even hailed a little. Figured there must have been a cyclone going over our heads.”

  “Well, you’re very lucky it went over your heads. The Taneys lost their house. The twister about blew every piece of it away.”

  “So that’s where this here contraption came from.” He scratched his head and stood up, half a harness in his hands.

  Trent shook his head. “Gather up anything you see that you think might have come from there. I’ll take it to them next time I’m over that way.” He rubbed at a tight muscle in his neck. “I won’t be here long, Albert. Warrior won’t need anything but water.” He gave a
wave and walked to the front of the house.

  No one was in sight when he stepped into the foyer, but he heard voices and the scraping of chairs across the floor coming from the dining room.

  Mrs. Cole led the girls into the foyer. When they saw him, they smiled and waved but followed their housemother up the stairs.

  The boys came next, following Howard Owens. When they saw Trent, they broke ranks and surrounded Trent, all talking at once.

  “Boys, boys. Upstairs, please. Your teacher will be waiting.” Owens gave Trent an apologetic smile and followed his disappointed charges.

  Helen came out and gave him a smile. His own smile froze as Abigail stepped through the door.

  He nodded in her direction then turned to Helen. “Albert said there was a little excitement here this morning. Everyone is all right though?”

  “Quite all right, Doctor. Although Abigail almost drowned herself.”

  Trent’s stomach tightened, and he couldn’t help the concern that washed over him.

  Abigail flinched then gave Helen a very brief smile. “Lily Ann and I were caught in the rain. That’s all it was. We’re fine. And now, I really must get some things ready for my next class.” She gave a nod and was gone.

  Trent relaxed as she disappeared from view. He’d avoided her for weeks because he simply didn’t know what to say to her. He’d behaved abominably the last time they’d spoken. Although he’d meant what he’d said about Lily Ann not needing Braille, he hadn’t had to be so brusque with Abigail. She was only trying to help the child. And to his chagrin, he was beginning to have doubts about his reasons for withholding Braille from Lily Ann. Was he being irrational about it? It couldn’t hurt for her to learn Braille while she waited for her recovery, could it?

  Perhaps he should at least check it out.

  “Dr. Quincy, good day, sir.” Carter stood just inside the foyer from the hallway to his office. “I wonder if I might speak with you for a moment on a matter of some importance.”

  “Yes, of course. Shall we go to your office?”