Until June

by Barbara M. Britton

  The dew-scented air made her forget about breakfast and Geoff and their dance. It was too nice a morning to stay indoors. Taking a quick break from thoughts and feelings, she followed Riley to nowhere.

  ~*~

  “You seem antsy.” Geoff viewed her over the four cards he held in his rummy hand.

  It had been two weeks since their kiss and almost that long since May’s issue of Woman’s Home Companion had been released. Their issue.

  “Just trying to keep my winning streak alive.” She laid the nine of clubs down on his trio of nines and placed her last card—the ace of spades—on his two, three, four run. Empty handed, she said, “Gin.”

  His cards flew across the table. “You deal. This time maybe my luck will change.”

  She shuffled and dealt the cards. She even turned her back when he sorted his hand. No one was going to accuse her of cheating. The squeal of gulls interrupted her concentration.

  “Are you expecting Tubby today?” She pulled back the window sheers. Excitement streaked through her veins. The Maiden was docked in the inlet. Tubby should have a copy of her article with him. “Tubby’s here.”

  Geoff balanced on his walking stick.

  She sorted cards and cleaned off the coffee table.

  “Yep, it’s Tubby.” Geoff watched the ship from the window. “Probably made the trip especially for you.”

  Josephine opened the front door.

  “Who are those men with him? I’ve never seen the crew wearing sack suits and soft-crowned hats.”

  Geoff came up behind her. “I can’t believe it.” His voice sounded as cheery as Christmas morning. “Brice is here. And it looks like Doc Miller.” He shuffled quickly toward the dock. She followed at a distance not wanting to interfere with Geoff’s greeting of his guests.

  Geoff and Brice embraced. They slapped each other’s shoulders and gave each other what looked like a military inspection. Doc Miller received a handshake from his former patient.

  “Josephine.” Dr. Miller held out his hand. “You’re the image of your mother. I saw Sophia at the beginning of the week. Her arthritis is much improved.”

  “I noticed when she visited. In no time, she’ll be taking dress orders for me.”

  “Jo…sephine, you remember Mr. Todd.” Geoff indicated his boyhood friend. “Brice, Miss Josephine Nimetz.”

  “We’ve met.” Brice shook her hand, limp wristed. He glanced at the lodge appearing more interested in the house than his hostess.

  Tubby waved May’s issue of Woman’s Home Companion above his cap.

  “Bet you’ve been waiting for this. I’ve got letters from some of the ladies in town. You’re the talk of Juneau. Wish I could stick around and take a peek at their praises, but I’m dropping Dr. Miller off at Kat Wil before returning for Mr. Todd.”

  Josephine flipped through the pages to catch a glimpse of her picture. “It’s nothing serious at the mine, is it? I was hoping you could stay for lunch?”

  “Maybe another time,” the doctor replied. “There’s a few cases of pneumonia.”

  Geoff and Brice abandoned the dock and chatted all the way to the lodge. After giving her regards to Tubby, she hurried after them. She jumped a few rocks and thought she might soar right into the sky.

  Tossing the bundle of letters on the first stair, she opened the magazine and displayed the article to Geoff.

  “Look,” she said between breaths, “our picture is right up top.”

  Geoff showed the photograph to Brice while Josephine took their guest’s hat and coat.

  Brice peered at the page. “Except for that stick, no one would guess you’re injured.”

  “They haven’t seen me move.” Geoff flailed his arms as if he was about to tilt over.

  “Careful,” Josephine cautioned.

  Geoff’s expression sobered.

  “Lucky for you, Josephine, you serve such a courageous man. Not many people would want to share their war demons with the world.” Brice sat in her chair, making himself at home. “Without Geoff, you wouldn’t have had a story to sell.”

  She stiffened. “I wrote another story for the magazine. The editor inquired about my position and asked me to write an article about Geoff’s recovery.”

  “Did they?” Brice didn’t sound convinced.

  “The Companion makes plenty of money selling serials to ladies.” Geoff handed her the magazine. “Josephine can’t get her fill fast enough. And real-life drama adds to the fiction.”

  “Fortunately, Margaret is drawn to non-fiction like me,” Brice said. “She’s quite the sensible woman.”

  “Margaret?” Josephine glanced up from skimming the article.

  “Brice’s girlfriend.” Geoff furrowed his brow at her interruption before turning his attention back to Brice.

  “Soon to be fiancé,” Brice added. “I plan on heading to New York the first part of July to convince her to return to Juneau with me.”

  “New York or Juneau? Hmmm. Too bad you’re not a bigger draw,” Geoff chided.

  The men laughed.

  Brice leaned forward. “You should come along. Captain Barrie mentioned you were planning on returning home the beginning of June. Change of scenery would do you good.” Brice surveyed the inside of the lodge. He inspected the bear’s head above the mantel.

  Geoff adjusted the position of his right leg. “Certainly sounds like fun. I don’t know though. It’s not easy traveling in my condition.”

  “Margaret has a friend who’s a nurse. I’m sure she’s run into men in your state of health before.”

  Fire blazed in Josephine’s belly. She gripped the back of a dining room chair and almost hurled it at know-it-all Brice. Geoff didn’t need a big city, book-learned nurse. She cared for Geoff’s cracked and tormented body with almost no training. How could Brice waltz into her home and whisk Geoff away to New York?

  Josephine excused herself to prepare soup for lunch. Soon, warm bread, soft butter, and honey-drizzled fruit cups adorned the table.

  “Who’s joining us for lunch?” Brice asked, indicating the three place settings.

  She tilted her head and waited for Geoff to answer.

  Geoff met her dare-you gaze. He shrugged ever so slightly.

  “Uh, it’s easier for Josephine to serve this way before she goes upstairs to her room.” His eyes pleaded with her to accept his lie.

  Serve? Was that all she was to Geoff? A young Mrs. Prescott? Her ears buzzed. Her muscles tensed. Be nice. She didn’t want to embarrass Geoff or give Brice any reason to think that she or her family was even more inferior than he already thought.

  “I’m sure you two have plenty to talk about that would be of no interest to me.” She kept her tone polite and cheerful. “I have plenty of letters to read.”

  She bit her lip and forced a smile as she served chicken soup. Balancing a tray in one hand, she planted a brass bell in front of Geoff. “You can summon me when you’re ready for dessert, Mr. Chambers.”

  “Beats a broom handle on the ceiling,” Brice chuckled. “Remember? Mrs. Prescott nearly quit after supervising us for the weekend.”

  Reminiscent joking followed her upstairs. Anger knotted her jaw muscles. Banished to her room, she chewed every piece of chicken and vegetable in her soup to a pulp. How could Geoff send her to her room after kissing her with such passion? Perhaps Ann was right; Geoff only wanted to coax her into his bed before time ran out.

  Remaining upstairs would have been unbearable except for the fact that she got to read her article over and over and over. Bold letters declared Josephine Nimetz had authored this piece. She admired her photograph. Hues of gray favored her complexion.

  When curiosity got the best of her, she pressed her ear to the floorboards hoping to eavesdrop on Geoff and Brice. Their muffled words hardly carried past the fourth stair. Why had Mr. Gilbertsen built such a solid lodge?

  Ring-a-ling.

  A summons from Geoff.

  She lingered on every stair as if she was saying g
ood-bye to it.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Brice said as she entered the dining room. “You and Geoff will practically be related when your sister marries Marty Hill.”

  “Thank you.” Had the meal helped Brice find his civil side? “I am happy for Ann.”

  “Mr. Hill will provide a nice living for your sister. They’ll be no need for you to keep Geoff out here at the lodge.” Brice elbowed Geoff as if they shared a secret.

  Where was the potted plant she hid behind on her first encounter with Brice Todd? She’d like to throw it in his face. Dirt and all.

  “I assure you, Brice,” she made his name hiss. “Geoff is free to leave the lodge at any time. In fact, I’ve encouraged it.”

  “Tea please.” Geoff cleared his throat. “Do we have any of your delicious ginger snaps?”

  If he was trying to appease her by accentuating de-li-cious, it worked. A little.

  “We have a few. I wasn’t expecting company.” She removed the dirty china from the table and set tea cups in front of the men.

  She couldn’t believe she had once found Brice attractive. His thinning blond hair, coiffed to perfection, couldn’t hide his bald spot. His nose, a bit more prominent than she remembered, diminished the intensity of his blue eyes. Geoff’s aquamarine eyes shone like sun on water.

  “It must have been lonely for you,” Brice said, his gaze solely on Geoff. “It’s too bad you couldn’t have returned to Juneau sooner. Got caught up in all that story business, did you?”

  “Not ex—”

  “Geoff encouraged me to write about his injuries.” She set the tea service on the table. “We’ve been busy, too. Going to the mine. Entertaining family. I do earn my keep.”

  Brice scoffed as if he had a piece of chicken caught in his throat. “Don’t you mean you’re kept to earn.”

  “You’re mistaken about our arrangement.” She ignored etiquette and poured Geoff a cup of tea before their guest. She fought to keep her hands from shaking. She would not give Brice the satisfaction of knowing he unnerved her.

  She reached to pour Brice some tea, having half a mind to pour it on his head.

  Brice lifted the saucer closer to the pot.

  Scalding liquid splattered on Brice’s hand.

  Brice flinched. He cradled his hand in his lap. “Stupid girl.”

  She jumped backward as if she had been burned. Brice’s curses rang in her ears. “I’m sorry.”

  Geoff struggled to stand.

  “Let me wrap it for you.” She raced to get a cold cloth.

  Returning, she reached to cover the burn. Brice jerked. His forearm struck her in the stomach.

  She stumbled backward and dropped to the floor.

  “Don’t touch me,” Brice shouted.

  “Jo,” Geoff gasped. “Are you—?”

  She didn’t let Geoff finish.

  “See to your friend,” she said as a bruising ache radiated through her tailbone. “He doesn’t want to be handled by the hired help.”

  She sprinted through the kitchen and out the back door. Humiliation stung her eyes. She raced toward the water, cutting through the Douglas firs, letting the woods hide her from Brice and Geoff. She didn’t want to face either of them. The spill was an accident. Brice’s hand would heal, and another apology would drain any self-esteem she had left. She kept running, following the curve of the inlet. Her lungs burned hot from her hurried pace.

  Resting against the crumbling bark of a tree, she looked up at layered pine branches stacked to the heavens. She felt small and insignificant. Is that what Brice had wanted? If it was, he deserved a prize.

  Movement caught her attention.

  A twig snapped.

  She froze.

  A bear moved through the underbrush.

  Keep on going.

  The bear lumbered away. Brawny muscles quaked beneath its shiny black fur.

  She released her breath.

  Branches rustled. Growls ricocheted through the woods. Riley snapped playfully at the paws of a bear cub. The cub cried in protest.

  “Riley,” she called, hoping to interrupt his chase.

  Her dog broke his pursuit. He bounded toward her. Too late.

  The mother bear began to charge. Straight for Riley. Straight for her.

  She turned and sprinted toward the lodge. Her legs spun faster and faster. She needed a rifle to save herself and to save her dog.

  Riley followed her. He veered right. She glanced to see where he was going. His tail whipped in circles as he cut back and resumed his chase of the cub. The mother bear halted her charge to protect her baby.

  Thank heavens.

  Crack.

  Pain radiated through her face and spread into her skull. She was falling, floating horizontally in the air. Her right hand shot out to keep her head from crashing into the ground. Dirt moistened her palm. Her wrist bent. Ouch! More pain radiated up her arm as she slammed into the ground.

  The taste of antique silver seeped into her mouth. She fingered her cheek. Blood.

  She tried to rise. The landscape spun. Her stomach surged. She clamped her eyes shut to relieve the nausea.

  Lying on her back, she heard a rapid panting coming her direction. She prayed it was Riley. Please be my dog.

  A spongy tongue licked her cheek. Her fear calmed. She grabbed Riley’s fur and tried to halt his licking. She wanted to go home and take him with her, but her head would not budge from the ground.

  “Home,” she mumbled, “go home.”

  She thought she heard a faint voice. Was it real? Or was it the pounding in her forehead? Was that her name?

  Her temples pulsed, mocking her stupidity.

  Riley’s ears perked up. He ran.

  Her pet left her alone. Alone and injured in the forest’s shadows.

  She rolled onto her side. Her head throbbed something fierce.

  Not again. She began to cry. Gabled roofs and wrap around porches weren’t visible through the thick canopy of pines. This wasn’t Juneau. No mansion waited for her in these woods.

  28

  She struggled to rise with one arm. Tree branches see-sawed around her.

  “Geoff,” she shouted. The taste of bile and herbed chicken filled her mouth. She had to get back to the lodge.

  “Cap’n, over here,” someone yelled.

  “Thank You, Lord.”

  Tubby crouched over her. “Good heavens. You’re a mess.” Light from his lantern caused her eyelids to flicker. “We’ve got to clean up that pretty face of yours.”

  “My wrist. It hurts. I can’t move anything below my elbow.”

  Tubby eased her arm onto her stomach. “Don’t want that dangling when we move you.”

  She shuddered when he picked her up. Her head ached. Her belly ached. Her wrist ached.

  Tears streamed from her eyes. She was in a mess. She was a mess. Why did she have to run from the lodge? Why didn’t she retreat to her room and wait for Brice to leave? How was she going to take care of Geoff now that she couldn’t move her arm?

  “Now, now. Don’t cry. Dr. Miller’s at the mine. I’m going to take you to him. Don’t worry about a thing little lady.”

  “Geoff,” she mumbled against Tubby’s warm coat. “Someone needs to stay with him.”

  “Brice is at the lodge. Those two can figure it out.”

  Tubby moved through the trees, swaying and dipping. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from vomiting. The vision of the Maiden bobbing on the water unsettled her stomach. The pounding of Tubby’s boots on the dock echoed in her skull. She breathed in the cool sea air and tried not to panic.

  The staccato beat of Geoff’s walking stick rang out over the water.

  “Jo, I’m going with you.”

  “I don’t have time to look after you Chambers.” Tubby’s voice was too loud for her tender head. The captain placed her in another sailor’s arms. The smell of gasoline and smoke assaulted her nostrils.

  “I want to be with her,” Geoff contin
ued.

  “Should have thought of that before you sent her fleeing into the woods. I can’t be worrying about you falling. I’ve got to get Jo to Kat Wil.”

  She wanted to reassure Geoff she’d be fine, but she didn’t have the strength to argue. Her body wanted to sleep, and she was too tired to fight the slumber.

  “You’ll come back.” Geoff’s voice was fading. “Tomorrow?”

  “Enjoy the lodge tonight, boys,” Tubby yelled.

  Those were the last booming words she heard.

  ~*~

  The lights of the mine were like a thousand Christmas candles illuminating the mountainside. She squinted at their brightness. The same fuel-scented clothes jostled against her side as she was carried off the Maiden.

  “Is that blood?” Marty asked, surprise in his voice. “What happened?”

  “I took a spill in the woods,” she answered. “I need to wash my face. It won’t look so bad in the morning.”

  “What were you doing out in the woods? And what in blazes am I going to tell Ann?” Marty opened the door to the infirmary. The pungent smell of isopropyl alcohol rallied her senses. “She’ll want to come out to the mine.”

  “Don’t tell Ann anything. Please, Marty.”

  Her escort slowed his steps.

  “Wait until I see the doctor.”

  “And then?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t want to upset Ann or my mother. Their focus should be on the wedding.”

  “We’ll see.” Marty’s voice softened at the mention of his upcoming nuptials.

  The crewman placed her on a flimsy plastic mattress. When the hint of weight settled upon her arm, she winced.

  Five beds lined her side of the long sterile room. Every bed was empty, except for hers. The other side housed the same number of beds. Blanketed bodies occupied two beds at the other end of the room.

  Tubby approached with an armful of pillows and blankets. Doc Miller followed in his wake. She welcomed the extra blankets the captain had confiscated.

  “Will she be safe here?” Tubby stared at the forms in the other beds.

  “There’s an orderly checking on that one.” Marty pointed to the farthest bed. “He’s bad with pneumonia. He won’t be any trouble. Dr. Miller gave him pills to sleep. The other soul’s been medicated, too.”