Child of Promise (4 page)

Beth made a move to protest she hadn’t decided anything yet, then gave the attempt up as a lost cause. When Millie Starr got an idea into her head, woe to anyone who stepped in her way. And besides, the consideration of staying here was growing more and more appealing.

Living in close proximity with Noah would soon ease the unfamiliarity between them. In no time they’d be back to the easy camaraderie they had once shared. And most important of all, she could begin to be the helpmate he seemed to need. Beth refused to stand helplessly by and see his grief destroy him. Though her own heart was shattered beyond repair and even the idea of getting emotionally involved with another man repulsed her, she’d not desert Noah if he needed her.

No, she’d not desert him, any more than she’d turn from her own kin in their time of need.

For the rest of the day, Noah could barely keep his mind on his work. The notes he had made earlier that morning for Sunday’s sermon looked like gibberish. Nicholas Blacklock, the town carpenter, had seemed to be in an argumentative mood, and by the time he was done marking up the bell tower plans, Noah had totally lost track of the man’s point. Then Leona Gates, who worked at the mercantile, called to question Noah’s order for paint to match the bell tower and annex to the rest of the church.

Repeatedly distracted by memories of his encounter with Beth MacKay, Noah was finally forced to ask Nicholas to return tomorrow and temporarily cancel the paint order. The sermon would have to wait for another day as well. The resulting solitude, however, did little to assuage the rush of thoughts and emotions churning chaotically in his head.

Beth . . .

Her image filled his mind. Rich, raven-black hair piled luxuriously atop her head. Luminous, soulful brown eyes the color of molasses. Smooth skin, washed with the hue of light honey and kissed with the tenderest of blushes.

His mouth quirked. Molasses . . . honey. One would think he saw her as some delectable morsel to devour. And she, his good friend Conor MacKay’s daughter. And he, a widower old enough to be her father! Well,
almost
old enough any–way, with a span of thirteen years separating them.

With a frustrated sigh, Noah leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was acting like some love-struck lad, but he had just never seen Beth like he had seen her today. She’d been a gangly ten-year-old when he had first come to Grand View and had matured eventually into a pretty girl before leaving for medical school. But the change in those years away had been amazing. Now she was a slim, elegant, exquisitely formed woman.

Noah didn’t think he had ever seen a more beautiful woman.

Yet more than just her outward beauty attracted him. Her sincere interest in Emily touched his heart, as did her kind41 ness and consideration for Millie. And there was still something more—a certain air of mystery about her, a fleeting glimpse of a deeply hidden pain, and frequent, sharp flashes of keen intelligence and insight.

Even in the short time he had spent with her today, Noah sensed that Beth MacKay was a deeply troubled soul, yet a soul equally brimming with talent and a capacity for goodness and love. He couldn’t help but be drawn to her. No one could, he wagered.

What unsettled Noah, though, were emotions that encompassed more than just a friendly interest and attraction. In the instant their gazes had first met in the kitchen, the keenest blade of physical longing he had ever known lanced through him. Sheer, unmitigated lust had seized him in its gut-twisting grip.

With a groan, Noah lowered his head into his hands. What had happened in that instant to turn his heretofore brotherly affection for a young woman he had all but seen grow up into one of such depraved considerations? And why, oh why, knowing his feelings for what they were, had he agreed to allow her to stay with them?

Was he so arrogant in his priesthood he imagined he was immune to temptations of the flesh? Though he had been tempted before, nothing had ever affected him as strongly as what he felt for Beth today. He must beware. Complacency was a quagmire that could draw one in so gradually one might never recognize the trap until it was too late. And he had grown so weary, so increasingly unsure of himself and his judgments of late . . .

Still, who was he fooling in his silly imaginings? Beth loved him as a brother and always would. She was a good, pure young woman. There was no danger she’d encourage him, and rightfully so.

Shame filled him. Noah lifted his head and gazed heaven–ward.

“Father, forgive me. Forgive me.”

Even as he uttered the prayer, the longing ache left him and peace engulfed him. Beth’s image faded.

A passing temptation, no more. To be expected in a man— even a priest of God—who had been more than two years without his wife. But that was all it was. A passing temptation.

Not reason enough to deny Millie a companion, Emily a dearly needed friend, and Beth a place to stay.

4

Let no man deceive himself.

                    1 Corinthians 3:18

Abby rapped lightly on the frame of the open bunkhouse door. “May I come in?”

Glancing up from the traveling trunk she was packing, Beth nodded. “Sure. I was going to come to the house in a while anyway.”

“To tell us what your newest plans were, and where you were going?”

At the mild reproof in her stepmother’s voice, Beth paused. She quashed the swell of guilt that immediately filled her, refusing to allow emotions she had long ago mastered to take control.

“Yes, of course I was planning on telling you. Not that I’m going much farther than Grand View at any rate.” She resumed placing neatly folded pairs of stockings and other unmentionables into the trunk. “I’ve found a place to stay in town, with Millie and Noah Starr.”

“The Starrs? Really?”

“Mamie Oatman’s boardinghouse was full. She agreed to put me on her waiting list but couldn’t really say when my name would come up. So she suggested the Starrs. Seems Millie at one time had considered taking in a boarder.”

“So you intend to move in with Mamie as soon as one of her rooms opens up?”

“That’s the plan.” Beth turned to retrieve her small velvet jewelry box and caught sight of Abby’s frowning gaze. Here it comes now, she thought.

“Are you sure it’s wise moving in with Noah? Considering how strongly you used to feel about him, I mean?”

“
Used
to feel about him,” Beth was quick to correct.

“That’s all that matters.” “So you’ve no feelings whatsoever for him now?”

With a sigh, Beth laid her jewelry box in the trunk, then turned and leaned against it. “I care for him as a friend. That’s all. And I’m very concerned for him. So’s Millie.”

“So am I, and your father, and all the rest of the family.” Abby tilted her head and smiled gently. “But I’m equally concerned about you, Beth.”

“Why?” Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Do you imagine me still hopelessly infatuated with Noah? Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. When I gave up the hope of ever marrying or having children to pursue my medical education, I also gave up on Noah.”

“But now you’ve obtained that medical education. You’re a doctor. And you’re back home, close to Noah and about to get even closer to him by living in his home.”

“Are you forgetting about Millie?” Though Beth tried to contain it, her irritation was beginning to rise. “I daresay both Noah and I will be quite adequately chaperoned. If you’re worried about anything illicit, that is.”

“No, of course I’m not worried about either of you.” Abby exhaled a frustrated breath. “It’s just . . . just that Noah’s so lost and vulnerable right now. And you . . .”

There was something in the tone of Abby’s voice—doubt, wariness, perhaps even some woman’s intuition—that filled Beth with unease. “What about me, Abby?” She met the older woman’s troubled gaze with a steady one of her own. “You sound as if you think I’m lost and vulnerable, too.”

Her stepmother locked gazes with her. “Aren’t you? There’s something about you, Beth. Something different. Something not right.”

“You haven’t seen me for five years, save for those few days you and Pa stopped in the city after your mother’s funeral last year. Did you think I’d still be the same girl I was all those years ago?” She gave a harsh laugh. “Well, I don’t know of anyone who gets through medical school unscathed, especially no woman. Especially not one who’s not only a woman but one of mixed heritage.”

“I’d wondered about that, about it all,” Abby said quietly. “But you never mentioned anything in your letters. It was almost as if . . . as if you were trying to protect us from the truth.”

“I was.” As the memories assailed her, Beth’s voice grew taut. “What could you or Pa have done about it anyway? And I wasn’t about to give Pa a reason to hightail it out to New York and bring me back home. I’d made my own bed. And I wasn’t going to rise from it until
I
was ready.”

“But at what cost, Beth? At what cost to your spirit? Your soul?”

“My spirit will heal, Abby. What counts is I didn’t let them beat me.” She shook her head fiercely. “No, not any of them.”

“What happened, Beth? Can’t you tell me? Now that you’ve beaten them, now that it’s all over. Now that you’re safe, back home.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it, Abby.” Beth managed a wan smile. “I need more time.”

“Would it be easier, do you think, talking to your father? He’s in his study, working on the accounts. I could fetch him.”

Horror flooded Beth. She grabbed Abby’s arm, gripping it tightly.

“No! I don’t want to talk to Pa about it!” If he knew. Oh, dear God, if he knew, it’d surely break his heart!

“It’s all right.” Abby covered Beth’s hand with her own. “You’re correct, of course. It isn’t the time. I see that now.”

Hot color flushed Beth’s cheeks. Just as she had feared, she had far too easily given herself away. The sooner she was gone from Culdee Creek, the better.

“Pa’s got enough on his mind, Abby.” Rallying the professionalism she had fought so long and dearly to achieve, Beth leveled a cool, impersonal gaze on her stepmother. “No need burdening him with my petty problems. Especially problems, now that I’m home, that’ll most likely work themselves out.”

Abby nodded, gave Beth’s hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, then released her. “I’m sure you’re right. Just know that, no matter what, your father and I love you and will always be here for you.”

“I know, Abby. I know.”

And Beth did know. Unfortunately, the knowledge of her parents’ love didn’t comfort her like it used to. Her troubled spirit needed something more. Problem was, Beth didn’t know what that something was, or how to find it.

“While you were home, packing up your things,” Millie said to her the next morning as Beth’s brother carried her trunk into the rectory, “I got your room cleaned up all spic and span. I also took the liberty of making your bed with one of my comforters, but you’re welcome to add your own things whenever it suits you.”

“I’m sure it’ll do me just fine as you’ve furnished it,” Beth replied, following Evan into her new room. “After all, I doubt I’ll be spending much time in it—what with the medical practice demands—except to sleep, anyway.”

“And you’re more than welcome to share the parlor and kitchen with us anytime you wish, too,” her new landlady continued. “I want you to feel at home here, you know.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I will.” Beth paused to indicate where her brother was to place her trunk. “And I want you to feel free to call on me for assistance when I’m here. My cooking skills may have gotten a bit rusty since I’ve been gone, but I’m certain they’ll come back quickly enough. Abby was too good a teacher for me to have forgotten much.”

“Pshaw, honey. You’re paying room and board. I wouldn’t expect you to help out with any chores on top of that.”

“Nonetheless, you said you wanted me to feel at home. And I won’t feel at home if I can’t help out.”

Millie grinned. “Well, we’ll see. We’ll see.”

Evan came to stand before them. Though Beth was of a good height for a woman, he still towered over her. She stared up at him.

“Is there anything else you’ll be needing, little sis?” he asked.

“Not that I can think of. Thanks, big brother.”

“Reckon I’ll be on my way then. Pa wanted me to stop by O’Brien’s and pick him up some liniment. That fall he took tripping over Erin’s roller skates bruised him up worse than he cares to admit.”

Beth shook her head. “Pa should come in and see Doc. He might have chipped a bone or something. And Erin had bet48 ter learn not to leave her skates in the middle of the hallway.”

Evan chuckled. “Oh, from what I heard, Erin’s not going to be doing any roller-skating for a long while to come. But then, she won’t have any free time to go skating anyway, what with school starting up soon and
all
the picket fences to whitewash.”

“You mean she’s going to paint not only the main house’s front-yard fences but yours and Devlin’s, too?”

“Yep. She’s been warned a couple of times already about those skates. Reckon this was the last straw.”

Millie laughed. “Well, tell Erin when she’s done with Culdee Creek’s, she’s more than welcome to come and paint ours. Noah hasn’t time nowadays to do much upkeep around here, and our fence needed a good whitewashing the beginning of the summer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Erin.” Evan nodded to Millie, then tweaked Beth on the nose. “Better head on out. See you later, little sis.”

“Bye, Evan.”

The two women watched him depart, then turned to each other. “I’ll leave you to get moved in,” Millie said. “I’ve still got a few finishing touches to make to the chicken potpie we’re having for lunch. But just as soon as you’re tired of putting things away, come on out to the kitchen, and we’ll have a nice cup of tea.”

Beth smiled. “Sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Millie bustled out, leaving Beth alone in her new room. She looked around. Graced with two windows that met at the joining of two walls, the room was bright and airy. A door leading outside also took up a portion of one of the windowed walls. White, rose-strewn lace curtains swayed in the windows. The walls were painted a soft, deep rose and matched the dark rose-and-pink chenille bedspread.

The bed was of white enameled iron topped with brass knobs. A cane-backed wooden rocker, draped with a hand-knitted lap robe, stood near the windows. A tall, dark walnut bureau topped by an oval beveled mirror graced the only other free wall. A rose, green, and white hooked rug lay beside the bed atop the polished hardwood floor, and several gilt-framed prints hung on the walls.

It was a thoroughly pleasant and functional room. Beth looked with longing at the rocker. She could easily imagine herself curled up in it many an evening after a day of hard work, reading anything that didn’t pertain to subjects medical. Indeed, after years spent with her nose buried in topics addressing body parts and noxious diseases, she longed for a stirring tale of action and adventure or of lands far away.

First things first, though. Her belongings must be put away in the bureau, her comb and hairbrush laid out, her books set in place on the small bedside table. Then, with Millie’s permission, she wanted to explore the rest of the house. Perhaps Emily might even enjoy coming along.

A half hour later, Beth walked into the kitchen. Millie was stooped over the sink, gasping for breath.

Beth hurried to her. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

Sliding an arm about her shoulders, Beth helped Millie to straighten, then gently guided her to a kitchen chair. “Sit, now. You look as white as a sheet.”

Millie all but fell into the chair. Her brow beaded with sweat; her breath came in sharp, shallow gulps. Beth watched her for a few minutes and, when Millie didn’t improve, decided it was time to get her to bed.

“Can you walk to my bedroom if I help you?” she asked. “It’s not far.”

“I . . . I’ll be . . . all right.” Millie motioned weakly. “This’ll . . . pass. It always does.”

Even as she spoke, her color began to return, her breathing to improve. “See? I’m feeling better . . . already.”

“Maybe so. Still, I’m not convinced this is as insignificant as you pretend it to be.”

Millie shrugged. “It’s most likely my heart. I had the rheumatic fever as a girl, you know.”

“Did you now?”

Her suspicions rising even higher, Beth took one of Millie’s hands. Sure enough, the nail beds were blue, the tips of the fingers bulbous—a sure sign of chronic heart trouble. An uneasy feeling filled Beth.

She released Millie’s hand. “Well, that might well explain your episodes. Have you seen Doc about them?”

Millie’s mouth tightened with determination. “No. I can live with this. No sense bothering him when there’s nothing he can do about it anyway.”

“Actually, there are a few drugs available that might help you a lot. One’s called digitalis, from the foxglove plant. It helps to strengthen the heart.”

“Do tell?” Millie cocked her head in sudden interest. “Well, maybe then I will pay Doc—or you, if you’ll have me—a little visit. What with Emily growing and getting more active, I can use all the heart strengthening I can muster.”“We could go today. I’m sure Doc would see you, even if it is a Saturday.”

Millie shook her head. “Leave the poor man be. He needs his days off. I’ve waited this long. I can wait until Monday.

”Beth wasn’t so sure of that. She feared Millie’s heart was failing and her lungs beginning to fill with fluid for her to have such a violent attack with only a minimal increase in activity.

“Well, I suppose if you’re going to insist on being so bullheaded about this,” Beth said, staring sternly down at Millie, “I could see if Noah has better success in getting you to Doc’s today. Of course, I hate to bother him, when I’m available, and—”

“No! Don’t tell Noah.” Once more, the color drained from Millie’s face. “He doesn’t know about my spells, and I don’t want him to. He has enough to bear right now without adding this.”