Authors: Lorna Seilstad
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance, #General, #FIC042040, #FIC042030, #FIC027050, #Sisters—Fiction
Freshly shaven and wearing a clean shirt, Joel entered the hospital ward. Both Charlotte and Molly were seated upright in their beds with breakfast trays on their laps. A long braid of maple syrup–colored hair lay draped over Charlotte’s left shoulder. He wished the nurse would have left Charlotte’s hair loose. He’d enjoyed seeing it down more than he should have.
“Good morning, Doctor.” One of the nurses who’d helped yesterday stood beside Charlotte’s bed. “Miss Gregory seems to be improving quickly.”
“Is she now?” Joel glanced at her breakfast tray laden with coddled eggs, toast triangles, jelly, orange slices, and cocoa—all served on pieces of china. There was even a vase with a purple coneflower. The nurse had outdone herself.
“Are you enjoying your pretty little breakfast?” He flashed Charlotte a knowing grin.
“I am. The nurses here are excellent students.” She glanced at the nurse. “Thank you again, Maeve.”
“My pleasure.” She turned to Joel. “Do you need anything, Doctor? Coffee, perhaps?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Nurse.” After the nurse had gone, he stepped closer to Charlotte’s bed. “How’s the headache?”
She took a tiny bite of toast. “Barely there.”
He tipped her chin up so he could see her eyes. “Liar.”
“Molly is the one with the heart problem. Why don’t you go bother her?”
“Ah, but irritating you is my specialty.” He squeezed her hand, then noticed the tall young man from yesterday enter the ward. “It looks like you have company.”
She turned her head toward the door, and her face paled. Her lips tight, she caught Molly’s gaze, then smiled at the young man when he stopped at the foot of her bed. “Hello, Lewis.”
Joel crossed his arms over his chest. What an odd reaction. Had this young man been bothering Charlotte in some way?
“Oh, let me introduce you two. Dr. Joel Brooks, this is Lewis Mathis.” Charlotte pushed her coddled egg around on her plate. “He’s the musician who performs before the lectures.”
A man? Well, she’d not shared that little bit of information. Joel hiked an eyebrow. “Is he now?”
“He sure is, and he does a mighty fine job.” Molly poked her fork at him. “Even if he says howdy to all y’all first and not to me.”
Lewis’s cheeks flamed. “Pardon me, Miss Molly.” His deep voice rumbled. “You look much better today.”
“Fit as a fiddle. Bet they’ll be kickin’ me out before day’s end.”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Molly. You’re looking at five days here, at least.” Joel thumbed through the chart the nurse had left on Charlotte’s table. “You, however, should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow?” She coughed and grabbed her juice glass. “I have to go home today. Tomorrow is Tessa’s play.”
“Charlotte, you have a concussion. You need to rest.”
“I can do that at home.”
“I can’t let you go home alone.” Joel set the chart down. “And Miss Molly is certainly not ready to be discharged. Don’t you want to stay here with her?”
“But you said Molly was going to be all right. Besides, you know I can’t let Tessa down.”
“I can escort you.” Lewis tugged on the lapels of his suit coat.
“I had the maid pack up your things this morning and sent word to the gas company that we’d not be going to Hastings today.”
Well, he was certainly taking charge of the situation. Trying to impress Charlotte, no doubt. When Charlotte glanced at Molly and rubbed her temples, Joel realized he needed to put an end to this, but before he could say anything, Molly spoke.
“That’s sweet of you, Lewis, but Charlotte should be heading home with the doctor—especially given her condition. Dr. Joel, if you’re staying here on my account, I don’t reckon that’s necessary. This hospital has doctors who can tend me just fine, don’t they?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts about it.” Seemingly spent, Molly leaned back on her pillow. “You’re taking Charlotte home so she can see her sister’s play. Lewis can stay in town with me a day or so if he likes or head on home.”
Joel studied Charlotte. Medically, she was recovering well, but he had yet to shake the feeling of helplessness he’d had when he saw her crumple last night. She hadn’t been unconscious long, and it wasn’t like she’d be running races when she got home. If she were anyone else, would he hesitate to release her? Was he being overprotective? If so, he imagined she’d soon tell him exactly how she felt about that.
He sighed. “Charlotte, I suppose we could leave this afternoon if you promise to take it easy until then.”
“Thank you.” She beamed at him.
“In that case, I’ll see that your bags are brought here. I’ll speak to the nurse about where they can be stored until you’re ready to go.” Lewis dipped his head. “I’ll check back on you—I mean both of you—a little later.”
Joel waited until Lewis was gone before he turned to speak to Charlotte. He had a lot of questions he wanted answered about that young man—for starters, why she’d never mentioned Lewis, and why Lewis was quite willing to volunteer as her escort. But
one look at Charlotte’s droopy eyes and he held his tongue. They’d have plenty of time for questions on the way back to Saint Paul.
If Tessa didn’t eat soon, her ribs might rub together hard enough to start a fire.
She carried a stack of invoices to the filing cabinet. The wooden drawer stuck and she yanked it. It gave and she nearly lost her balance. Wouldn’t Miss Walker have a conniption if she came back to an upturned drawer in the center of the room?
Thumbing through the files, she searched for the maintenance folder. The invoice in her hand was for electrical repairs. She slid the slip of paper in place and glanced at the clock. The dress rehearsal was starting promptly at three, so she’d sneak downstairs at a quarter till and change into her maid costume in one of the dressing rooms.
Since she had lines only in the first act, she should be able to race backstage, put on her regular attire, and hurry back upstairs before Mr. Jurgenson returned from his meeting. He’d been gone most of the afternoon, which had allowed her to snoop at will. Unfortunately, she’d found little to tell her who Mr. K. O. was or if Mr. Jurgenson was in cahoots with Miss Walker. If he, too, was a criminal, she certainly didn’t want to confide in him. She needed to work carefully and not raise any suspicions if she wanted to complete her investigation.
Tessa filed the remainder of the stack, sat down at her desk, and picked up her newly acquired copy of Allan Pinkerton’s
Professional Thieves and the Detective
. Finding the book in Aunt Sam’s library had been a stroke of luck. Perhaps Aunt Sam’s husband had been interested in the famed detective or his work with the railroad.
According to the book, she needed to keep a strict watch on Mr. Jurgenson’s movements and not let him out of her sight. Unfortunately, she’d have to start her surveillance after he returned, and of course, she couldn’t follow him home—or could she?
Tessa placed a note on her desk, explaining she was leaving for lunch, then hurried to the dressing room and donned the heavy black maid’s dress, apron, and mobcap for her role of Liza. She made it on stage in time. The thrill of seeing everyone in costume with the set behind them made her giddy, but she managed to stay in character and say her lines.
But things did not go as smoothly for Peter. When the rope that lowered him into the nursery jammed, he missed his cue, and Mr. Frohman ordered them to take the whole act from the top. When her part was over, Tessa exited stage left.
“Miss Gregory.” The stage manager stepped in front of her. “Where are you going?”
“I have to change and get back upstairs.”
“But you need to remain in costume for the curtain call. We’ll be practicing that at the end.” He stuck a pencil behind his ear. “Mr. Frohman won’t be happy if you’re not back in time.”
“Don’t worry. I will be.”
Even though she preferred to stay and watch, she traipsed offstage. In the dressing room she whipped off her apron and mobcap. Since her practice had gone later than she’d planned, she skipped changing the black dress. Men seldom noticed such things anyway.
She hurried upstairs and into the office. Her chair squeaked loudly as she sat down, and she winced.
Just as she feared, Mr. Jurgenson came out of his office. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder how long your lunch would be. You must have taken it much later than usual, but honestly, Miss Gregory, I’m sure Miss Walker doesn’t expect you to accomplish everything she usually does.” He cocked his head to the side. “Were you wearing a black dress this morning? I was certain you had on a white shirtwaist.”
“Sir?”
“Oh, never mind.” He passed her a handwritten letter. “I need this typed up right away.”
“Typed?”
“Yes. I know you’re not as fast as Miss Walker, but as long as you finish it before you go, it ought to be fine.”
Not as fast? Her typing instructor had called her Tessa the Turtle in class.
“Please bring it into my office when you’re finished.” He gave her a parting smile and went back to his office. “Remember, I need it today.”
Tessa picked up the paper bearing Mr. Jurgenson’s barely decipherable scratches. Her stomach knotted. She’d never get this typed up in time to make the curtain call. Should she sneak out in about an hour, or could she simply tell Mr. Jurgenson the truth about her part in the play?
Miss Walker had made it sound like he wouldn’t approve. What if he still wouldn’t let her leave, or worse, what if he got her fired from the cast?
Too bad she didn’t have a little bit of that fairy dust right now.
After dressing behind a screen, Charlotte gathered her suitcase and walked to Molly’s hospital bed. “I hate leaving you.”
“Nonsense, sugar. I’ll be right as rain by Sunday.” She shifted in her bed. “And the nurses here are as sweet as your apple charlotte—except that one. Did you see her? She has her nose so high in the air she could drown in a rainstorm.”
Charlotte laughed. “I agree, but if you’re nice to her, maybe she’ll be nice in return.”
“Speaking of being nice, when are you going to explain to Lewis about the doctor?”
“I should have told him already, but he’s so kind, and I don’t want to upset him.”
Molly laid a hand on Charlotte’s arm. “Sugar, what’s the Lord putting on your heart about this?”
Emotion clogged Charlotte’s throat. “I’ll tell Lewis about Joel the next time I have the chance.”
Molly reached for her hand. “And don’t you worry. Lewis might be hurt, but you won’t lose his friendship. I reckon deep down he already knows the truth.” She chuckled. “Anyone in the room with you and Dr. Joel for more than a few minutes can feel the spark between you two, and it tickles me to no end.”
“That makes you happy? I thought you’d be on Lewis’s side.”
“If I was any happier, I’d be twins.” She pushed herself up in the
bed so she was sitting straighter. “Sugar, Lewis didn’t stir you. If you’d picked him, you’d have been settling, but God doesn’t want us to settle for what’s in front of our face. He wants to bless us with things beyond our imagination.”
Charlotte grinned. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Only remember, sugar, bring your empty vessels to the Lord to fill them. Not to any man.” Molly glanced toward the doorway. “Lookie there, here comes your blessing right now.”
Joel crossed the room and picked up Charlotte’s suitcase. “Looks like you’re ready to go. Miss Molly, I’ll keep in contact with Dr. Bomgars. He’ll take good care of you. When you’re ready to be released, I’ll come get you.”
“That’d be mighty nice of you.”
“Now, we’d better get going.” He glanced at Charlotte. “Ready?”
She hugged Molly goodbye, then made her way to Joel’s waiting Model T, where he helped her inside. He went to the front to crank the engine. It roared to life, and she leaned back into the leather seat.
A nice, peaceful ride home would be the perfect medicine for what remained of her headache.
The steady clack of the typewriter beneath her fingertips did nothing to soothe Tessa’s growing anxiety. Why did Mr. Jurgenson insist on having this letter today? She glanced up at the wall clock and moaned. The curtain call would be any minute now and she had another paragraph to type, but she needed to get down there.
She pushed back from the desk. One quick trip wouldn’t hurt.
“Ah, you’re finished,” Mr. Jurgenson said as he rounded the corner from his office. “Good. I can go post it.”
Like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Tessa jumped back from the door.
Mr. Jurgenson’s brow furled. “Miss Gregory, were you going somewhere without finishing my letter?”
“Uh . . .” What was she going to do now?
Joel impatiently tapped the steering wheel as Charlotte kept up a steady stream of discussion concerning the ball. He had questions he wanted to ask her before they reached Saint Paul, but he wasn’t sure how to bring the subject up.
“And Lewis agreed to help you with music selections, if that’s all right with you. His knowledge of music is excellent. He studied at the Northwestern Conservatory of Music in Saint Paul.”
At the mention of Lewis’s name, Joel’s lips puckered as if he’d eaten a lemon. “You seem to know a lot about Lewis.”
Charlotte stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “You two travel together. Of course you know about him. Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”
“I told you I traveled with a singer.”
“Not a
male
singer.” He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened, hating the doubts forming in his mind. But the facts were undeniable. Lewis had been too considerate, too eager to tend to Charlotte’s needs. And she was clearly nervous about his attention.
“You never asked.”
“So why did you keep it a secret?”
“I didn’t. The subject didn’t come up.” Charlotte’s voice rose. “Joel, there’s nothing but friendship between Lewis and me. Can’t you see that?”
He couldn’t very well admit he’d only been watching Lewis’s reaction to her.
The image of his former fiancée in the arms of his friend filled his mind, and his chest constricted. Perhaps he was overly sensitive about such matters after what had happened with Prudence.
They hit a bump and Charlotte moaned. Joel mentally kicked himself. What was he doing pummeling her with questions in her condition? She was still recovering and didn’t need this pressure.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He massaged the knotted muscles in the back of her neck. “Lay your head back and try to close your eyes for a while.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you telling me what to do again?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckled. “Now, get some rest.”
Tessa’s mind whirled. She had to get out of the office and downstairs for the curtain call. But now that Mr. Jurgenson had caught her trying to leave before she was finished with his letter, she was trapped.
“I was, uh . . . uh . . .”
Mr. Jurgenson’s cheeks colored, and he averted his gaze. “Oh, of course, Miss Gregory. How insensitive of me. Take your powder room break. The letter can wait.”
She hid her smile and scurried away, thankful for Mr. Jurgenson’s fortuitous assumption. Her quick steps echoed on the Minton tile as she crossed the theater’s foyer, but she didn’t dare slow.
Flinging the backstage door open, she paused to let her eyes adjust. What scene were they on? Had she made it in time?
“Miss Gregory, you’re next.” The stage manager dragged her to the curtain. “You go on after the pirates.”
“What do I do?”
“Step to the center, curtsy, and then step back.” He nudged her arm. “Go!”
She did exactly as she was told and stepped back into the shadows.
Tomorrow night there would be beautiful lights and robust applause, but she didn’t need that today. As cast member after cast member joined her on stage, something foreign took hold of her. This play, the theater, the family of actors—she was part of something bigger than herself.
A fierce protectiveness washed over her. There was no way she was going to let Miss Walker or Mr. Jurgenson ruin this special world. Not while she could do something about it.
Pinching her cheeks, Charlotte took stock of herself in the mirror. Joel would soon arrive, then they’d all leave for Tessa’s play.
Hannah and Aunt Sam had fussed over her all morning, insisting she rest. Finally she’d had enough and had enlisted them all in addressing ball invitations. It had been a relief when it came time to get ready for the evening.
After tapping on her door, Hannah entered. “That dress is an excellent choice. Joel is here, but you need to wait a few minutes so you can make a grand entrance.”
“Thank you, but I pale compared to you.” She took in Hannah’s soft green satin gown with a panel of embroidered rosebuds on its front. “Lincoln will be so busy looking at you, he won’t see a bit of the play.”
Hannah laughed, then grew serious. “Lottie, you pale to no one. You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s easy for you to say.” She chuckled and inserted a pearl-studded comb, wincing when it touched the lump on her head. The decorative comb went well with the ivory satin gown she’d chosen. She loved the empire waist and voile overlay with its elaborate gold thread swirls. She pressed her gloved hand to the pearl necklace lying against her exposed décolletage and turned toward Hannah. “Is anything amiss?”
“You look perfect.” Hannah’s eyes glittered. “I wish Mother could see you now. She’d be so proud.”
Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat and fanned her face with her hand. “Don’t make me cry now. I’ll look awful for my grand entrance.”
Hannah opened the door. “And we mustn’t have that. I’ll go down first, and then you can follow in a couple of minutes.”
“Why am I so nervous?”
“Because.”