Obsessed in Oregon (Yours Truly: The Lovelorn Book 8)

by Marlene Bierworth

  Exhaustion overtook him. The distance to the dock seemed a mile away.

  Jamie turned Michael’s head to the side to drain the water from his mouth and nose. He tried to slap him awake, but there was no response.

  “Jamie – grab this, and we’ll pull you both in,” he heard someone call.

  A worker on the dock swung his arm back as far as he could and threw the life-ring, fastened to the end of a long rope, into the water. Tariana was standing beside the man. Even from his position, bobbing above the surface, he saw tears glistening on her cheeks and wondered for which of them she feared most.

  He watched as the ring splashed into the water, and he started toward it with his load. Each stroke was agony and when they finally reached the dock, men reached down to pull Michael onto the wooden planks and lay him flat. Someone had the good sense to call for Doc, who dropped to his knees as a couple of fellas reached for Jamie’s hand to help him up.

  When Michael still did not stir, Doc tilted his chin and head backwards to help clear his throat and then listened at his chest. His face was grim as he attempted to bring him around. The crowd watched on, expectant faces lifted heavenward and the sound of mumbled prayers filling the air.

  Tariana moved in beside Jamie, and he saw the fear etched on every inch of her face. He squeezed her hand and felt it tremble. “I’m sorry, Tariana,” he whispered. “I tried the best I could.”

  She stared at the scene before them through misty eyes, the doctor fighting with all the strength he could muster to save Michael’s life. It seemed as if everyone was holding their breath. When Michael’s body jerked and his mouth spewed up water, the crowd collectively exhaled and cheers sounded from all around the dock area.

  Michael was alive! Tariana ran to his side and dropped onto the pool of water created by his wet clothing.

  “Oh, Michael,” she sobbed.

  His eyes appeared vacant as he attempted to focus, but then he turned in the direction of her voice. Relief flooded his face when recognition set in, but the crowd was not prepared for his first words: “Tariana, my love.” His hand reached up to caress her face, and she seemed to freeze in terror when he touched her. “It appears I’ve gone for a swim in the middle of a workday.”

  She turned a questioning gaze toward the doctor, who merely shrugged his shoulders.

  “We need to get you to the infirmary, young man. I see you’ve hit your head on the way down.”

  Men came alongside to help Michael the short distance to the medical building.

  The crowd dispersed, whispering and staring at Tariana – everyone knew Michael was sweet on Frances.

  When Tariana and Jamie were the only two left standing, she turned her attention from the men off in the distance and cast the saddest eyes Jamie had ever seen in his direction. He took her hand, and they headed toward the small hospital that Doc ran with the help of a part-time nurse.

  “Did you think it odd that he called me his love?” she asked, clinging to Jamie’s hand. “He’s never done that before.”

  “That’s because you are not his love – Frances is.” Surely the girl wouldn’t welcome this crisis as a victory in her desperate attempt to win his affections.

  Tariana did not respond to his statement. Instead, she leaned against his arm. “Thank you for saving Michael’s life, Jamie. God placed you in the right place at the right time.”

  “I should return to work. Will you be all right?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Jamie. And please, be careful – working on a boat under construction is a dangerous job.”

  He nodded and turned back toward the ship. Jamie would not acknowledge the agony he’d felt while following a safe distance behind Tariana and Michael on their tour, or how he’d turned in disgust when she’d bellowed a greeting to him from the ship’s deck while he marched down the plankway to the dock. It was as if his heart meant nothing to her, which was probably the case. They were merely friends; always had been. It was time to face her rejection and move on before he became as desperate and lost as she.

  Tariana hurried toward the infirmary alone. When she passed Bessie’s Tailor Shop, she thought of Frances. Had she heard the news of the accident? More relevant to their relationship, had she heard of Michael’s slip of the tongue? Many townspeople had, and it was only a matter of time before she’d confront her about it.

  Seeing no signs of activity in the reception area, she pushed on, rounded the corner and entered Doctor Shamar’s office. Nurse Betty was busy collecting supplies in the cupboard, but she recognized her at once.

  “Miss Gracin,” she beckoned to her, “do you have a strong constitution?”

  “I suppose I do,” Tariana said.

  “It appears the young man refuses to let us work on his leg without talking to you first.”

  Tariana bit her lip. Good. The misunderstanding would be remedied before Frances showed up. “Certainly. He needs to be treated. Please, take me to him.”

  Michael lay on the cot, a white sheet covering his body. Only his bare arms and damaged leg showed. Cuts and deep gashes from something he’d hit on his descent had gouged the skin and bone on his left leg.

  Doc cleared his throat when he spotted her and motioned for her to come over. “My stubborn patient places love before his healing. He should have stayed unconscious.” Doc spoke harshly, but Tariana saw the concern in his face; something was wrong.

  When Michael turned to face Tariana, his countenance changed from hopelessness to relief. He reached out for her hand. “Don’t you mind this old grump. There’s no wedding band on his finger, so he knows nothing of putting a woman’s mind at ease.”

  Tariana walked slowly toward him. At his bedside, he grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. “It looks worse than it is. Just some scratches and a bump on the head. Wanted to make sure my girl was all right before he put me to sleep. Says I can’t stand the pain, and he’s probably right. Might as well know: I’m a bit of a wimp in that department.” She continued to stare unable to speak. “Say something before the Doc gives up on treating me and goes home, leaving me to fester with my injuries.”

  “I’m fine, Michael. Relieved you are still alive.”

  “Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easy, did you?”

  Tariana cast an inquisitive glance at the doctor who shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his head. Did he mean that Michael had a head injury? Was that what caused him to believe that Tariana was his betrothed and not Frances? Her dream had come true, but she did not want to achieve it in such deceit – she was not entirely evil. Her sister would be furious to see the tables turned and Tariana replacing her in Michael’s affections.

  “No one wants to be rid of you, Michael.”

  She was still groping for words to contradict his misguided attention when the doctor interrupted. “We’ve no time for this now. His wounds must be treated, cleaned, and bandaged before infection sets in.”

  Tariana attempted to step back, but Michael pulled her hand under his chin. “You will stay, won’t you? Someone’s got to keep an eye on the man with a knife aimed at my leg.”

  Doctor Shamar moved to the head of the bed, a chloroformed cloth in his hand, which he placed over Michael’s nose and mouth to let him breathe in the vapors. “Good night, Michael. See you in the morning.”

  Tariana watched Michael’s face relax, and his lids grow heavy until they finally closed, but his grip remained strong. Before she could disengage, Frances barged into the room. Her eyes went immediately to her sister, who was holding her future husband’s hand.

  “Tariana!” she barked. “Remember your place.”

  “It’s not entirely her fault, missy,” Doc said. “The man was knocked out and appears to be disillusioned at the moment. He’s finding it hard to place people. Your sister merely offered him the comfort he needed while I gave him something to knock him out.”

  Frances marched to the bed, yanked their hands apart, and glared at her sister. “How wonderfully co
nvenient for you.”

  Tariana’s look of confusion did not seem to convince the fired-up woman. “You think I don’t know how you pine after my man? How blind do you think I am?”

  Frances appeared willing to start a fight right there in the doctor’s office with Michael’s unconscious body next to them. The coldness of it angered Tariana.

  “Do you not care that Michael has survived a horrid accident? He is alive, and your pettiness is unbecoming.”

  “And I understand that you can fill me in on all those details as well, since you were with him.” Frances’s voice raised in anger. “Is this the first time, or am I the one deceived?”

  The doctor pounded his hand on the nearby table. “Ladies! You will take your argument elsewhere. I have much work to do on this leg. We shall worry about his head when he wakes up.”

  Nurse Betty opened the door to the office and waited for the girls to exit.

  Frances turned and slapped Tariana full across her face. “I will be staying, and she will be leaving. You might as well go straight to your bedroom, and I hope you do not see the light of day until after my wedding.”

  Tariana sped from the room and out the office door, glancing wildly around her. Life for everyone else had returned to normal, and the streets bustled with activity. She was standing there, unsure of which way to turn when Cherise and Samantha hurried alongside her.

  “You poor, dear sister,” Cherise said. “To witness Michael fall overboard must have been devastating.”

  “How is Frances taking it?” Samantha asked. “I hear there was lots of blood.”

  When Tariana continued to stare, Cherise said, “Let us treat you to some tea and maybe a sweet treat at the diner.” They closed in on both sides of her, and the three girls walked arm in arm down the street. By the time they’d reached the Oregon Diner, Tariana felt able to breathe normally again. And when the tea was delivered to their table, she raised the cup to her lips to sip the hot liquid and warm her chill-shocked body.

  Cherise caressed her sister’s free hand, lying on her lap. “We can wait until you’re ready to speak.”

  “I saw a boy fall from a roof once, and my heart beat erratically for days,” Samantha said. “It’s a horrible thing. And Michael, being almost family and all, just had to be your worst nightmare.”

  Tariana sighed and put down her cup. “You both might as well hear the entire story from me. If you haven’t hated me before, you will now.”

  “Never,” both girls cried together. “We love you just the way you are, the good with the bad.”

  “On Sunday, Michael suggested I go to the dock, and he’d give me a tour. You can well imagine how excited I was to see inside the vessel the men are restoring.”

  “Yes,” Samantha squealed. “I dream of riding in one of those ships someday.”

  “Yes, and it appears that Michael has been saving to take our Frances aboard for a honeymoon trip.”

  “How come she gets all the luck?” Cherise pouted.

  “If he does not wake up clearer than when he went to sleep, it might be me that he takes on the trip.” Saying it aloud sounded sinful to her ears, like trying to do a balancing act on the edge of her fall into Hades. Yesterday, she’d have given her eye-teeth for such an opportunity, but not today. Her fanciful future had been forever wiped clean in a flash of time.

  “Whatever do you mean? You’re talking in riddles,” Cherise said.

  “Michael hit his head on something, and his thoughts are confused. He called me his love and talked as though I were the one he’d chosen for his wife and not Frances.”

  “No!” Cherise exclaimed.

  “I’m afraid so. We must pray to the heavens that when he awakens, his mind will be set right, and this two-fold nightmare will end.”

  “Is Frances aware of his befuddled brain?”

  “She was told, and her jealousy is raging out of control. And to think – it wasn’t so long ago that this might have pleased me.” Tariana took a hankie from her bag and dabbed at the tears that threatened to break loose. “Now, Frances will focus on the fact that I was with him – invited by him – to tour the ship, and that he had a life grip on my hand when she walked through the door to the infirmary. Thank goodness, he was unconscious at the time, so he was spared the ugliness of her reaction.”

  “I can hear it now,” Samantha said. She let out a low whistle.

  “Except this time, I can’t blame her, and I have no idea how to make it right.” Tariana fell silent, and a gloomy mood settled over the threesome.

  Chapter 6

  The trio of sisters stopped by the infirmary before returning home to find their father seated quietly in the waiting room; of course, they’d call the preacher to pray.

  “How is Michael?” Cherise asked.

  “Resting. Doc says his leg will heal fine. He’s more concerned about his head. Seems he’s a bit confused, but we won’t know the extent of it until he wakes up, and we can question him.”

  “Is Frances still in with him?” Tariana asked.

  “Your mother took her home. She is a mess of emotions, which the patient does not need to see when he comes around. His parents are with him, so he’s not alone.”

  Reverend Clarence Gracin stood and stretched. “I was waiting for you girls. There’s nothing we can do here. Might as well head to the house.”

  “I’d like to stay, Father,” Tariana said.

  “Do you not suppose you’ve done enough damage for one day?” her father asked.

  “Not on purpose,” she said in her defense. “Michael was showing me The Misty Marion and all the grand rooms on board. He is thinking of taking Frances for a honeymoon ride. We were finishing up and standing at the rail having a wonderful conversation…” she gasped when she recalled the topic of discussion before he’d tripped and fallen overboard. She’d been bold enough to voice that he was her choice for a suitor and that they were better matched than he and Frances. Could that idea have lodged in his head to cause the confusion? She knew nothing about the workings of the mind.

  “What now, daughter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Perhaps I have some information that might help the doctor. May I stay and speak to him?”

  Clarence took out his chain watch and studied it. “Your mother will have supper on shortly.”

  “I’m not at all hungry, Father,” Tariana said. “I would like to see the doctor.”

  “He went off on a call – the Benderson family, I believe. It appears the youngest has a touch of something-or-other.”

  “I’ll wait here until he returns.”

  “As you wish.” He motioned to Cherise and Samantha. “Come along girls. Your mother will want you to set the table. I’m sure Frances will be useless today.”

  Tariana paced the wooden planks on the floor of the office long after the Frost family had left for home, leaving Nurse Betty to keep vigil over Michael. Finally, she popped her head into the adjoining hospital room.

  “I can sit with him if you’d care to slip out for some food. I don’t mind,” Tariana offered.

  “I’m not sure I should leave until Doc gets back,” she said. “But I do have this mess to clean up before the blood hardens.”

  Tariana walked into the room and stared at Michael. “Is he doing all right?”

  “The leg will mend, and his breathing is more regular now. The boy nearly drowned, but his head got the worst of it. It’s swelling under the cloth bandage we wrapped him in. Doc doesn’t like that he won’t wake up.”

  “I could talk to him,” Tariana said. “Do you think he can hear me?”

  “Perhaps. Sometimes I think the rambling folks do under these circumstances helps to heal the soul of the talker more than wake the patient, but science has proven neither.” She nodded to a nearby chair. “Pull it over close and maybe save your taking for the Almighty.” Nurse Betty gathered the surgical equipment onto a tray, left the room, and closed the door behind her.

  Tariana
sat alone with Michael and the Lord. She figured she’d talk to both of them at the same time. The most urgent requests came first, and when she felt the heavens could stand no more of her ranting, she reached for Michael’s hand. Thanksgiving poured out for this man’s life and his strong character. He was a willing servant when it came to spreading the Good News, encouraging of the needy, and working hard to a hard to succeed in reaching his goals. Surely, the Lord needed such men to further His Kingdom on earth. With her praise list completed, she proceeded to unload all of the dirty little schemes she’d carried out over the past six months, designed to place a wedge between Michael and Frances.

  Tariana hoped the nurse’s uncertainty as to the level of awareness unconscious patients experienced was correct. It had never been her plan to reveal the nasty side of her character, especially to Michael.

  She dampened a cloth and wiped droplets of sweat from his face. It was a warm evening. Even the usual cool air that breezed into the community off the water that time of day seemed stifled and impenetrable. She went to the window and fanned herself, watching as the business owners closed up their shops. Many of the Euro-Americans settling there had brought with them unique skills, and the small settlement of Willamette Valley, planted so many years ago, now provided all the necessary ingredients for a good, rich life.

  Tariana loved the life her Father had provided his family in Oregon City, and she fully supported his missionary efforts. The splendor of the falls, the mountains, the river, and the abundant forested land rife with wildlife intrigued her and drew her closer to the Creator. Most residents were decent people with the exception of the odd scallywag or drifter who caused an uproar and kept the orderly, new Sherriff Starnes on his toes. How long had it been since she’d reflected on the good and decent? Perhaps playing in the devil’s field of jealousy had cost her more than that for which she’d bargained. She heard the door open and spun around.