Skip Rock Shallows (9 page)

Ned Tippen stuck his head round the open office door and called, “Hey,” to Lilly.

“Hey, yourself,” she said, marking her place in a book with one finger. “What are you up to today?”

“Nothing much. Thought I’d stop by and see if you needed any help.”

Over the last couple of weeks, Lilly had come to rely on Ned. Once Darrell’s mother insisted on taking him home against her advice, most of what she did was home visits. She had started with a list of shut-ins left by the old doc, and Ned had proved invaluable with his keen knowledge of the twists and turns of the unmarked and unpaved roads hereabout. Just Sunday after church, he’d hitched up the clinic buggy and driven her five miles to the Jacobs place, where she’d delivered a nine-pound boy. He got her there in the nick of time.

She knew many folks would turn her away, so strange did they find a woman doctor, if not for Ned’s intervention. He was heaven sent.

Lilly motioned him in. “Do you know the Eldridges? I’ve been going up every Wednesday to visit them.”

“The ones that live on Swampy? Got that house that sits up on rocks like stilts?”

“Yes.”

“That aggravating Swampy Creek runs wild as a turkey ever time it rains. Orie’s old man’s been dead awhile now, God rest his soul. But afore he died, he raised the house because Orie’s deathly afraid of the snakes that wash up in the yard whenever Swampy overflows its banks. She was always bragging on him for that. Somebody said she’d taken off sick. Come to think of it, I ain’t seen her in a long time.”

Lilly inserted a thumb card between two pages and closed the book. “She’s very ill. I’d like to bring her here to the clinic and try a new treatment.”

“Sounds like a plan. When you aiming to go up there?”

“In just a bit,” Lilly said. “I’m not sure if she’ll agree to leave home. I just want to broach the subject today, get her to start thinking about it.”

“Who’s taking care of her now?”

“Her niece Armina is staying with her.”

“Oh yeah, Bud Eldridge’s her uncle. Seems like there was two of those gals. Didn’t the older one move off somewhere?”

“Evidently she is with her husband. Armina is watching her sister’s children plus taking care of her aunt. She’s a remarkable young lady.”

Ned stroked his chin. “Be hard to get a buggy up there. Might have to bring her down on a litter.”

Lilly tapped the desk with her fingertips, deciding how much to tell Ned. The last thing she wanted to do was to denigrate her patient. “Mrs. Eldridge is hugely obese, Ned. I’m not sure half a dozen men could carry her down that mountain.”

“Orie was always a big woman.” His eyes took on a wistful look. “She makes the best mincemeat you ever put in your mouth. She used to bring her pie whenever the church had dinner on the grounds. Folks would queue up for a slice.”

Lilly thought she had rarely known a man with as sunny a disposition as Ned Tippen. His easygoing way reminded her of her stepfather. In the three weeks they’d worked together, he hadn’t uttered one unkind word, though he certainly had reason to. She’d helped him dress the red, raw stump of his amputation more than once and knew the pain he lived with. Truthfully, the doctor who’d treated him after his accident had not done a very clever job. She would consult with Paul when she visited him and his family in September. Paul would know the latest. He was already an excellent surgeon.

“So do you want me to go along today? Want me to saddle a couple of horses?”

“I’d love for you to. You can see the lay of the land and help me figure the best route to bring Mrs. Eldridge here.”

“Give me two shakes,” Ned said.

“All right,” Lilly said, already collecting her things, “just charge my account at the livery station.”

Truthfully, Lilly would rather walk. Though she liked horses, she wasn’t an accomplished rider. The only experience she’d had was on a gentle mare of her mother’s and that was not much beyond the barnyard. But Ned couldn’t very well hike that far on his wooden leg, and like he said, they would be hard-pressed to get a buggy up there.

Soon Ned was back. He helped her into the saddle and handed her the reins. “I’ll lead; you follow. I know an old drift road that’ll get us there quick-like.”

Lilly realized anew that quick-like in the country was different from quick-like in the city as Ned led her on a different route than the one she had walked with Armina. Her mount was a bit frisky, and she held the reins with a firm grip. It seemed a long way to the ground from where she sat sidesaddle.

She felt fairly comfortable until they came to the river.
Gracious,
she thought,
why would Ned want to cross a river on horseback?
Suddenly, being knee-deep in Swampy didn’t seem so bad.

Ned waited for her horse to come alongside his. “This here’s the shallows. Skip Rock’s down, so it’ll be even easier to cross than usual.”

The river tumbled over moss-covered stones; it was so clear she could see the sandy bed. Relieved, she followed Ned into the water. Sunlight danced on the surface like gemstones spilled from a jewelry casket. My, this was a beautiful place. She’d have to come here again and bring a book and maybe a picnic lunch. She bet there would be a perfect spot up the bank a ways. Daydreaming, she shifted her weight in the saddle. The reins slacked in her hands. Her mount took full advantage and pranced sideways before rearing up, seemingly determined to rid itself of her.

With a yelp she slid backward, over the hump of the saddle and onto the horse’s wide backside. Stretching forward, she grabbed a bit of mane and wrapped it around her hand.

“Whoa!” she heard Ned yell and saw his horse turn back. “Whoa there!”

Just as she was losing her grip, he grabbed the harness and brought her horse up short. On her knees, skirts flying, she scrambled back into the saddle. Her heart thumped like a scared rabbit’s. She pressed her knees tightly together to stop their shaking.

“Are you all right?” Ned said, keeping a grip on her horse and leading them to the far bank.

“I’m all of a piece,” she said. “Nothing hurt but my dignity.” She tucked a strand of hair under the rim of her hat. “I must look a sight.”

“Looks don’t matter none if you ain’t hurt. Trade rides with me.”

“You know, Ned, I think I’ll keep this one. This was a lesson learned. I was woolgathering instead of paying attention. Give me a minute.”

They reined in and she dismounted. The horse’s nostrils flared and he jerked his head when she tried to stroke his long nose. She clicked her tongue, making soothing noises like she’d learned to do with all the wild things she’d doctored during her growing-up years: baby rabbits needing around-the-clock feedings, broken-winged crows, discarded kittens, and once a fox kit caught in a trap.

“Will you look at him, Ned? There must be something wrong.”

Ned ran expert hands along the animal’s flanks before lifting each foot and examining the shoes. The horse stood steady under Ned’s attention.

“Can’t find a thing wrong,” he said.

“Maybe he slipped on a slick spot,” Lilly said as Ned handed her back up. “Okay, we’re ready.”

She sat tall in the saddle and minded their way. The path narrowed, choked with raggedy cedar boughs and the low-hanging branches of trees. Wild honeysuckle scented the air with its sweetly delicate fragrance.

“I ain’t been this way in a coon’s age,” Ned shot back over his shoulder as he dodged a branch. “Careful as you go.”

Lilly ducked, changing her position and easily passing under the limb. Suddenly her mount snorted as if sounding a warning. Stretching his neck out long and low, he shot through the woods like Lucifer himself was on his tail. Trees streaked by, each threatening to dislodge her. One errant limb clipped her hat and tore it from her head. All she could think to do was lean forward over the horse’s elongated neck. She patted his sweaty hide firmly. “Easy, easy,” she said, over and over again, determined to hold on until the horse was out of steam. How far could he run anyway?

“Rein in! Rein in!” Ned’s startled shouts followed her dashing mount.

Ahead Lilly could see an old dry-stacked stone wall. It was time to learn to fly. She felt the horse’s muscles bunch for a jump. “Lord, help us,” she yelled before, smooth as sweet milk, they were over the wall and slowing.

Ned soon caught up, clutching her straw bonnet in one hand. “That’s enough of that. You could have been killed! We’re trading places, and I’m riding Mr. Ball of Fire here back to the stable.”

Lilly was standing on legs that felt like limp dishrags. Her horse stood placidly, munching on a clump of grass. “He’s mean as a striped snake, Ned. Whatever comes over him?”

Ned guided her to a seat on a fallen log, where she sank down and fanned her face with the tattered hat he gave her.

“Sorry about your hat. It sailed right into my hands. Maybe you can fix it.”

Lilly poked her finger through the hat’s crown. “Glad this wasn’t my eye.”

“Let me get you some water,” he said, lifting the flap from the leather bag attached to her horse’s saddle. The horse nickered and did his sideways dance again.

“It’s this saddle,” Ned said. “He flinched when I fiddled with it.” Running a hand under the seat, Ned flinched himself before he pulled out a cocklebur the size of a banty egg. His usually sunny expression turned stormy. “I’m gonna crack somebody’s head for this.”

Lilly took the canteen he offered, unscrewed the top, and drank. “What do you mean?” she asked when her thirst was slaked.

Ned shook his head when she offered the canteen to him. “I mean someone did this on purpose and I aim to cuff the dirty dog.”

“Surely not. Why would you think so?”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Doc, but ain’t everyone in your camp, so to speak.”

Lilly stood and shook out her riding skirt. She thought of the forewarning bird someone had set on her porch and the crossbones painted on the clinic door. Not to mention church. She’d faithfully attended every service that she could and still she was met each Sunday with the frosty disdain of cold shoulders.

“I can’t imagine why people don’t see that I’m only here to help them.”

Ned pulled a seeding blade from a clump of grass. He chewed on the stem for a few seconds before he answered. “Folks hereabouts are so proud, they’ll go to their reward never having changed an opinion—like it’s some sort of badge of honor to be backward. They don’t like newcomers stirring things up, and pardon me for saying so, but they don’t trust flatlanders.”

“But I’m not a flatlander. I was raised in Breathitt County on Troublesome Creek. My mama was a Brown and my stepfather is a Pelfrey.”

“A Pelfrey, you say?” A grin split Ned’s face. “My mama was a Pelfrey from up Troublesome Creek. God rest her soul. She didn’t talk much about her family, but I heard her mention she had a bunch of cousins. I remember her remarking on a John Pelfrey who married a midwife name of Brown.”

“Goodness, Ned, that’s my mother and my stepfather. We’re—what—second cousins?”

Ned let out a whoop, grabbed her, and swung her around. “I can’t believe it! Don’t the Lord work in mysterious ways?”

Lilly steadied herself against Ned’s arm to make the world stop twirling. “It’s good to know I’m among kin.” She gave him a light hug. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother. Has she been gone awhile?”

“She passed on five years ago this November, but I still miss her every day.” Ned hung his head. “Too bad it’s such a far piece to the Pelfrey family graveyard. I feel guilty for not keeping up her site.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Daddy keeps it clean. I’ll take you home with me next time I go, and you can see for yourself.”

Ned’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “I can’t wait to tell Uncle Turnip and Aunt Tillie. She’s gonna swallow her chaw.”

Lilly grabbed the saddle horn. “Help me up, Ned. If we don’t get a move on, it will be dark before we finish at the Eldridges’.”

“You sure you want to ride this devil again?”

Lilly patted the horse. “He’s docile as a kitten without that bur under his saddle. Let’s go.”

The Eldridge homestead was just as Lilly had left it on her previous visits. Everything was tidy. Even the hard-packed dirt yard, which sported random tufts of browning grass, was swept clean.

Ned took the reins to Lilly’s horse. “I’ll wait out here.”

Armina appeared in the doorway with the babies in her arms. Then, quick as a hummingbird, she darted out of sight.

Lilly found the young woman in the curtained-off pantry. Wedged on a shelf behind her, Bubby and Sissy anchored a ten-pound sack of pinto beans and a graduated set of yellowware mixing bowls. “Goodness, Armina, what are you hiding from?”

“I didn’t expect company.” Armina smoothed a strand of hair that had dared escape her tight braids. “You should have told me if you were bringing somebody.”

“May I?” Lilly asked as she reached for Sissy. “I’m sorry if we startled you. I needed Ned to come along today.”

Armina lifted Bubby down and followed as Lilly held the curtain aside. “I don’t see why,” she said, bouncing Bubby on her hip. “If you was afeered to come alone, I would have fetched you.”

“I’ll explain after I examine Orie,” Lilly said. “How’s she been?”

“About the same, I guess . . . maybe talking a little more.”

Lilly untwined Sissy’s fingers from her pearl necklace and set her on a bright rag rug at Orie’s feet. She knelt and placed her hand on Orie’s wide knee. The woman seemed to be asleep. Lilly shook her knee slightly and Orie opened her eyes.

“Aunt Orie, how are you feeling?”

Orie Eldridge smiled and put her hand on top of Lilly’s. “La, girl, I reckon I’ve felt better,” she said in her wheezy way.

“Your heart’s laboring, but your lungs are not as wet as they were last week,” Lilly said when she finished her examination.

“Perhaps I’m getting well,” Aunt Orie said.

Lilly looked into the gravely ill woman’s eyes and saw a spark of hope. “There is a new treatment I’d like for you to try. You’d have to take pills. . . .”

“Drastics? Old Doc never gave me such a thing. Dandelion tea, strong as I can stand—that’s all Doc recommended.”

Lilly chose her words carefully. “Dr. Jones took good care of you. I can see that. He wouldn’t have known of the new treatment for congestive heart failure.”

“Say what?” Armina broke in.

“Congestive heart failure,” Lilly said. “It’s akin to dropsy.”

Aunt Orie took a coughing fit. Her whoops stole her breath, and her face turned the purplish-red of a pickled beet. Her king-size chair teetered back and forth dangerously. Lilly feared the thing would collapse and dump Orie on the floor.

Armina fanned her aunt’s face with a church fan. Sissy whimpered and scooted under the bed. Bubby crawled after her.

Lilly retrieved a rubber suction bulb from her kit. It was the only relief she could offer while Orie fought for life-giving oxygen. The woman could die right before their eyes. This simply couldn’t continue.

When the hoots turned to gasps and finally to ragged breaths, Armina sponged beads of sweat from Orie’s forehead with a wet washrag. “There, there, Auntie. You’ll feel better now.”

“Them drastics,” Aunt Orie said when at last she could speak. “What’ll they do for a body?”

Lilly studied what to say. She could almost hear the words her mentor, Dr. Coldiron, would choose:
“Why, they’ll fix you right up—you’ll be your old self in no time.”
He believed it was kindest to couch the truth in platitudes to keep up a good front. It was generally accepted by modern physicians that the shock of full knowledge could send a seriously ill person into a final decline. The dear doctor was the soul of kindness, but anything less than the total truth went against Lilly’s grain. Besides, Aunt Orie was tough enough to take it.

“The medicine will give you a fighting chance, Aunt Orie. At the very least, you’ll be more comfortable.”

“All right then.” Orie cupped her palm. “I’m ready to try. Armina, fetch me some of that water yonder.”

Lilly knelt by the chair again. “I took a script to the pharmacy in town. They had to send out for the medicine. I should have it filled soon.” She closed Orie’s palm and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “If you agree to take the medication, you’ll have to come to the clinic so I can monitor you for a few days.”

“Oh no. No. I cain’t do that.” Orie shook her head so hard, her jowls slapped. “I cain’t be leaving these kids to fend for themselves.”

“It’s your choice, of course. I can’t force you.”

Orie dropped her head. Her chins flattened against her broad chest like pancake mix in a hot skillet. “Cain’t Armina give me them drastics? She’s good at doctoring.”

“Yes, she is, but I wouldn’t be comfortable putting her in that position. I’m sorry, Orie. I know this is hard for you.”

A single tear tracked down Aunt Orie’s face and disappeared in the folds of her neck. “I feel like death’s a-standing on my porch with a warrant, just waiting to serve me.” She took a minute to gather her strength. “I don’t want to die and leave these young’uns. I’ll do whatever you want if it can borrow me some time.”

Two sets of eyes peered fearfully from underneath the bed. Sissy crawled out and toddled over to hang on Aunt Orie’s skirt. Bubby tried to stand before he had cleared the bed frame. He bumped his head hard. His loud bawls mixed with Sissy’s snuffling and Aunt Orie’s whistling breaths.

Armina stuck an extra pillow behind Aunt Orie’s back, stooped to swipe Sissy’s nose with the skirt of her apron, and dragged Bubby out from under the bed. She brushed his silky hair back from his face. “You’ll have a goose egg. Let’s make you a cool compress.”

With Bubby on her hip, she went to the washstand and took a sip of water from the long-handled gourd dipper. “This ain’t cold.” The granite bucket clanged against the side of the stand. “I’ll be right back.”

Lilly scooped up Sissy. “I’ll come along.”

Armina nudged the cowbell on the table by Orie’s chair. “Ring if you need me.”

The sun bore down, bright as the yolk of an egg, as Lilly followed Armina to the well house. Like the cabin itself, the structure was well built and several degrees cooler than outside. Armina lowered a wooden bucket attached to a rope down the well, hauled it back up, and poured fresh water into her granite bucket.

Sissy rocked against Lilly’s hip. “Pash?” she crowed. “Pash!”

Armina dipped her fingers in the water and flicked them in Sissy’s face. The tiny girl recoiled from the cold drops as she shrieked with laughter. “Do Bub. Do Bub.”

Bubby turned up his face and Armina splashed him. It did Lilly’s heart good to see the childish joy, but once again she wondered how Armina kept up with her burdens. It seemed decidedly unfair.

Back outside, heat waves shimmered on the surface of the yard. Lilly shaded her eyes against the brightness.

Ned approached and reached for the water bucket. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need no help!” Armina said, jerking it away. Half the water slopped over the side of the bucket, drenching her skirts and Lilly’s too.

Armina inhaled sharply. The water might as well have been a snake. “Just look what you’ve done!”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Ned said.

“Pash!” Sissy shouted. “Whee!”

Lilly shook her skirts. “It’s all right, Armina. It’s only water. We’ll dry.”

“Well,” Armina said, “a body shouldn’t interfere unless a body’s been asked.”

Ned folded his arms and stood back.

Armina looked him over. She heaved Bubby higher on her hip and held the bucket toward Ned. “Since you asked.”

Lilly clamped her lips against laughter when she saw the look of fear and awe on Ned’s face. He looked like he’d just stumbled upon a mountain lion, a magnificent mountain lion.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ned said.

Armina puffed up like a wet hen. “Ma’am? Do I look like an old-maid schoolteacher?”

Ned seemed at a loss for words, but he took the bucket and headed toward the well house.

Lilly watched Armina watching Ned’s halting walk. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, but she didn’t ask. That was good, for Ned’s story was Ned’s to tell, not Lilly’s.

A clamor emanated from the fenced lot beside the barn. When they turned to look, a white goat with pointed horns gave up butting the fence and stuck its head over the rail to bleat hello. The bell around its neck tinkled merrily.

“See goes?” Sissy asked.

Armina sighed. “Dumb thing wants a carrot. Nanny’s spoiled plain silly, like everything else around here.” She gave Bubby to Lilly. “If you’ll take them over to the lot, I’ll run to the garden.”

Ned passed them carrying the water bucket.

“Don’t take it inside,” Armina said. “Aunt Orie don’t know you’re here.”

“Where do you want me to put it?”

“Set it on the porch,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Men—I don’t know why the good Lord bothered.”

Lilly seated both children on the top fence rail, keeping her arms firmly around them. The nanny explored Sissy’s bare toes. Sissy giggled and pulled her knees up. Bubby thumped the goat’s head in an awkward attempt to pat.

“Be easy, Bubby,” Lilly said.

Finished with his chore, Ned swung the boy up to sit astraddle his neck. Bubby’s eyes grew wide with amazement. He clutched fistfuls of Ned’s hair.

The nanny pranced over to Armina, who held a bright-orange carrot fresh from the garden. With dainty precision, the goat nibbled the carrot until all that was left was the lacy foliage.

“She saves the top for dessert,” Armina said.

Bite by bite, the greenery disappeared. “All gone,” Sissy said with a shrug. “Goes be full.”

Armina walked down the fence line. The nanny followed.

Ned lifted Bubby over his head, then reseated him. “Want to go for a ride?” Bubby drummed his heels against Ned’s chest when Ned whinnied and jounced the little boy on his shoulders.

Sissy was having none of it. She pointed to the horses tethered in the shade of a tree in the side yard. “Dere’s horsey.”

Ned stopped in his tracks. “I think this one takes after that one,” he said under his breath, tilting his head toward Armina.

Lilly nodded. “Smart as a tack.”

“And just as sharp.”

“Horsey,” Sissy demanded.

“Is it all right if I take them for a short ride?” Ned asked when Armina came back.

Armina snorted. “You think you can handle the two of them at once?”

Ned shifted Bubby from his shoulders to one arm, walked over to his horse, and expertly swung himself and the baby up. The pointed end of his wooden leg rested like a foot in the leather stirrup.

Lilly waited for Armina’s nod before she handed Sissy up.

“I’ll hold on tight,” Ned said.

“If you let anything happen to them kids, you’ll think you got your head in a bear’s mouth.”

Ned gave Armina a slow smile. Deep dimples appeared in his cheeks. “Well, you know what they say about having your head in a bear’s mouth.”

Armina’s eyes flashed. “I expect I don’t need no enlightenment from you concerning bears.”

My word,
Lilly thought,
the sparks from these two could set a house afire.

“All right then,” Ned said. “We’ll be back in two shakes.”

“Ned’s really a very nice fellow,” Lilly said as he rode away.

“Could be,” Armina agreed, “but he ain’t my type. I don’t need me no cripple.”

“I’m not matchmaking, Armina.”

Armina flipped her braids. “I still don’t know why you brung him here.”

“I need Ned to help me figure out a way to get Orie to the clinic. It will be difficult at best, what with her health and her . . .”

“She’ll be there if I have to pack her down this mountain myself! I ain’t never giving up on Aunt Orie.”

It was way past suppertime before Ned and Lilly reached the shallows of Skip Rock River.

“Thank you for your help today,” Lilly said as their horses drew up side by side. “I think the trail you showed me will work perfectly for getting Orie Eldridge to the clinic, once it is bushwhacked.”

“No problem, Cuz.” He sat up tall in the saddle. “It sure enough makes me proud to call you cousin. Imagine, me being kin to a doctor. Don’t that beat all?”

“Imagine that we found each other. God truly does work in strange and miraculous ways. If my horse hadn’t tried to throw me, we might never have taken the opportunity to talk as we did.”

“Somebody’s still going to pay for that bur under your saddle!”

“I’d rather you let it be, Ned. It might be best to not add fuel to the fire.”

“I’ll do what you ask, but it goes against the grain.”

After they crossed the shallows, they dismounted to stretch their legs and water the horses.

“Talk about going against the grain—what was going on between you and Armina?” Lilly asked.

“Whew, she acted like I was a skunk in the chicken house. I feel like I been skinned alive. That gal’s a spitfire.”

Lilly grinned. “So what do you do when you get your head in a bear’s mouth?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Ned cupped his hands, making a step for Lilly. When she was safely in her saddle, he replied with a wink, “You work real easy until you get it out.”

“Know a lot about bears, do you, Ned?” Lilly teased.

“I know enough to keep my distance.”

We’ll see,
Lilly thought as she nudged her horse forward.
We’ll see.