Earth Angels (5 page)

And best of all, his long, narrow feet were entirely bare of shoes or stockings.

She’s slid her long woolen cape off, and she knew she looked fetching in her rose alpaca shirtwaist dress, it’s lacy frill clinging to her throat. She’d taken special pains that morning, especially with her hair, coaxing it into a frothy mass of curls under her beguiling little black felt fedora.

“Good morning, Doctor Gillespie.” Her voice was steady, even though her heart was fluttering. She gave him her best, wide smile.

“Miss Walsh.” He was visibly taken aback, but only for a moment. He used his thumb and forefinger to shove his glasses back up, and he’d obviously forgotten they’d progressed to first name status.

“Emma,” she reminded him.

“Emma, of course. Emma. Won’t you come in?”

Here in his office he was different than when he was in her store. He was more relaxed, more confident. Not as self-conscious. But every bit as absent minded, she thought, suppressing a giggle. She’d bet a day’s wages he’d forgotten he was only half-dressed and that he was barefooted.

“You’re at work early this morning, Joseph.” She nearly choked on the sharp acrid smell of carbolic and the coppery tang of blood that pervaded his surgery.
Eeeek
. He could do with a large pot of potpourri in here.

“Yes.” He seemed oblivious to the smell. “Mr. Jones had a mishap with an axe. I had to stitch his wrist and fingers.”

Her stomach heaved. She breathed through her mouth and looked around with avid curiosity, noting the tidy rolls of bandages, the shining array of frightening instruments, precise labeling on the rows of medicine bottles. There were mortars, pestles and various sized bowls and containers aligned in even rows.

His neatness and efficiency impressed her. She knew the value of order in business, and so, it seemed, did Joseph.

He motioned to the plain wooden chair in the corner. “Be seated, please, while I clean this up.” He busied himself tidying the area where he’d treated Mr. Jones, whisking blood stained dressings, scissors, needles and a basin of pinkish water out of the room.

He was back in a moment, drying his hands on a white towel, flashing her a smile that tugged at her heartstrings.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

She’d planned on whipping out her surprise and then singing a rousing chorus of “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow,” but mischief beckoned. Perhaps this was a perfect opportunity to really command his attention.

“I seem to have this strange sensation in the region of my heart, Doctor,” she said in a throaty tone, using her eyelashes to good advantage.

“I see.”

To her utter amazement, he wasn’t discomfited in the slightest by her teasing. “And how long have you had these symptoms, Emma?” His deep voice was filled with concern, and she realized too late that he was taking her seriously.

Still, she couldn’t resist baiting him a little more. “For several weeks now. They come and go.”

“Would you describe it as a sharp pain, or more of an ache?”

“Oh, an ache, to be sure.” It amazed her to find she was actually telling the truth. She did have a peculiar sensation, like an ache, in her chest when he was near her.

“If you would just open the button of your bodice…” He reached for a stethoscope and waited.

The joke had gone much too far. Her face grew hot as she reached into her basket. “Actually, Joseph, all I planned to uncover was this.” She withdrew a devil’s food cake with a frothy white boiled icing that had taken her forever to whip.

He stared at her, his forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What does this have to do with the pain in your chest?”

He really was impossible. Did he have no sense of humor whatsoever?

“Joseph, its your birthday.” She held on to her smile, but it was becoming difficult. She carefully set the cake on his examination table. It looked incongruous beside the stethoscope.

“Birthday?” He sounded as if he’d never heard the word. “My birthday?”

“Yes, your birthday. The day you were born, the day most people celebrate having lived another year of their lives.”

He simply stared at her.

She lost her patience and her temper. “Honestly, Joseph, haven’t you celebrated your birthday ever before? My goodness, you’re making me feel like—like a frivolous nincompoop! I baked you a cake, I teased you a little about the ache in my chest, and I was about to sing you a song, but so help me, you are impossible. Why, any other man would have appreciated me trying to get him to have a little fun. But you! You don’t even smile.” She snatched up her basket and stormed out, slamming the door after her.

When Joseph recovered his wits enough to follow her, a quiet, familiar voice stopped him. “Put some shoes and stockings on first, there’s a foot of snow out there. It’s below zero.”

Joseph stared first at Nathaniel and then down at his bare feet. “Damnation! I totally forgot I hadn’t finished dressing. What must she think of me?”

Nathaniel’s smile was whimsical. “I doubt it was your bare feet that sent her running, Joseph.” He studied the cake. “It looks delicious. Personally, I’ve always had a weakness for Devil’s Food. Why not put your boots on and go after her, invite her back to share some with you?”

Joseph’s shoulders slumped. “She’ll never come back now. I acted like an idiot. I had no idea it was my birthday, I stopped paying attention to that nonsense when….” He swallowed and didn’t finish the sentence.

“When your parents died,” Nathaniel said in a gentle tone. “I know. You closed off so many of your feelings then. Don’t you think its time to let yourself begin to feel again?”

Joseph scowled. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I know that too.” Nathaniel sighed. “Look, why don’t you go after Emma and see if a simple apology would help? You certainly owe her one. She must have worked very hard making this cake.”

“But—what if she slams the door in my face?”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Put your foot in the door and go right on being abjectly humble. For the love of Heaven, Joseph, you’ll never know unless you try. So go now.”

He absolutely dreaded trying to explain his stupidity, but Joseph hurried off to find his coat and boots, his lips moving silently as he tried to formulate a suitable apology.

But the store was locked when he got there, a simple “Closed” sign hanging in plain view. Longing to give up and go home, but knowing Nathaniel would accuse him of being a coward, Joseph went around the back of the building to the flight of stairs that led up to Emma’s living quarters.

He climbed as if he was heading to the guillotine, and knocked as softly as he could. His hand was still raised when the door flew open.

Emma, her soft curls disheveled, her brown eyes stormy, stared at him, her chin lifted. She kept one hand on the doorknob and the other on the frame, blocking his entrance.

“What do you want?” She glared at him, her eyes shooting sparks. “Haven’t you done enough to humiliate me for one day?” Her voice trembled. “You must be quite pleased with yourself, you made me feel an utter fool.”

He was taken aback by the force of her anger, and he felt so ashamed that his carefully prepared apology went straight out of his head.

“I---Please, Miss—please, Emma, I can’t---that is, I thought—you see, I thought you were ill---you did say your heart---and I was concerned---“

“Oh, you—you total idiot.” She stamped her foot, rage making her nearly incoherent. “Go away. This instant. You’re the—the most—most—“ Her chest heaved. “I never---ever---want to see you again.”

The door slammed with such force he jumped back, nearly losing his balance and tumbling down the stairs. He walked home, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his overcoat, shoulders hunched against the humiliation that rolled through him in waves.

He was aware that Nathaniel was beside him, but he had no desire to talk. Nathaniel, too, was silent.

At last, when they were nearly home, Nathaniel said, “Maybe that wasn’t the best idea I ever had. Sorry I pushed you into it, Joseph.”

“I richly deserved it.” Joseph was totally miserable. “I truly believed she was having heart problems. All I could think about was examining her and discovering the cause so I could help her.”

“Of course you did, and that’s the problem.” Nathaniel’s voice was sympathetic. “You’ve fallen in the habit of seeing people as medical problems. Hearts aren’t only physical organs that pump blood, Joseph. You’ve got to learn there’s so much more to life than sickness and death. There’s happiness, peace, love. Especially love. Emma opened her heart to you, and you rejected her. No wonder she’s in a rage, you hurt her deeply.” He shook his head. “I think we’re going to have to devise something very special to make this up to her.”

Joseph was despondent. “It’s hopeless. She’ll never speak to me again.”

“There you go, admitting defeat before we’ve even developed a battle plan. Courage, Joseph. There’s always a solution when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“But what on earth can I do?”

Nathaniel thought for a long moment and then snapped his fingers. “Valentine’s Day. The celebration of love. Start thinking about a truly unique and remarkable gift you can give her for Valentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day? But I’ve never given a woman anything for Valentine’s Day, it’s—it’s a totally frivolous concept. Besides, I’d have to buy it at her store, which is ridiculous. And I have no idea—“

“You have over two whole weeks to figure it out.”

“But---“

But Nathaniel was gone. Joseph was left alone with the problem.

CHAPTER FIVE

On February 14
^th
Joseph had a constant stream of patients all day long, and it wasn’t until after six in the evening he had a chance to wash and put on a fresh shirt. It was already dark as he walked to Emma’s house, carrying the gift he’d agonized over and the card he’d spent hours making.

He climbed her back stairs and hesitated, his fist poised to knock. From inside came the sound of laughter, a woman’s high voice saying something, a man’s low tones replying, and another bout of light hearted laughter.

Damnation! She had company. Joseph was torn between his need to see Emma and apologize and his deep reluctance to face her in front of other people.

He’d rather face a firing squad than go through this. But the memory of her anger had haunted him and he to somehow win her forgiveness. If that meant making a fool of himself before half the town, he’d just have to suffer the humiliation.

He ran a finger under his shirt collar, straightened his hat, cleared his throat, and knocked, heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

Just as it had on his last visit, the door flew open and Emma stood there. But this time, there was no anger. Instead, she smiled quizzically at him, absolutely radiant in a low-cut red satin gown that clung to her generous curves and set off her beauty to perfection. She was so lovely she took his breath away.

“Joseph? What brings you here?” The words were gently spoken, but wary, and her smile faded.

He was stricken dumb. He opened his mouth, but not a sound emerged.

“Say something or the door will close again,” Nathanial’s urgent voice whispered inside his head. It brought him out of his trance.

“You brought me a delicious cake on my birthday,” he finally managed to croak. “So I’ve brought you this for Valentine’s Day, along with my deepest and most heartfelt apologies. Please say you forgive me, Emma.”

She looked uncertain for an instant and cold fear suffused him. But then she was smiling again, a wide, generous smile that seemed to reach out and warm him.

“Of course I forgive you, Joseph. Come in, won’t you? I’m having a small Valentine’s Day celebration.”

He stepped inside. The room, bright and cheerful, filled with winsome decorations, seemed to glow with sunshine even on this dark, cold night. It was overflowing with young and old people alike, people Joseph recognized because over the past two years, he’d treated most of them for one ailment or another. Because he shunned social gatherings, he’d never encountered them as a group, however. They were sending curious glances his way, obviously wondering what he was doing here.

Anxiety and his natural shyness gnawed at his gut and he felt horribly self-conscious and out of place as Emma took his card and opened the envelope.

What if she didn’t understand his attempt at humor? What is Nathaniel, with all his heavenly wisdom, had been wrong? “Make her laugh,” he’d counseled. “Laughter is far too lacking on this earthly plane.” Joseph had tried his best.

On the front of the hand drawn card, he’d sketched a remorseful and quite demented looking doctor, his huge feet bare, a stethoscope stuck in his ears, big glasses crooked and low on his large nose, tears dripping off his chin. He was holding in large, clumsy hands a heart jaggedly broken into two pieces. “Please forgive me,” the lettering on the front read. “If you don’t, you’ll break my heart..” Inside he’d printed, “I’ve been a proper horse’s-----“ and an arrow led down to a cross-eyed horse, peering round over his fat backside. His bottom was drawn in the shape of a huge valentine.