What could he
say? “I’ve decided to stay in Sunset. I’ll get a room.” The doctor probably
knew he was lying.
A
boarding house would be good—if he had any money. He didn’t. And he’d have a
hard time finding work with a bad leg.
“I
think you’d be better off to stay with your mother, Willie.”
“No, I
don’t want to be a burden to her.”
“That’s
considerate of you, I suppose, but don’t you think she’s concerned?” He
scratched at his jaw. “I’m surprised she wasn’t on the first stage to Sunset
when she learned about the accident.”
“She
doesn’t care what happens to me.” Willie leaned his weight on the crutch and
sucked in his breath, not liking the direction the conversation was headed.
“I’ll get on fine, Doc. Don’t worry about me.”
Without
another word, he tottered away, his steps awkward and uncertain. Where was he
headed? Willie didn’t have a clue, but he kept on going anyway.
* * *
*
The
heels of Hattie’s boots click-clacked over the wooden floor as she swooped up
one aisle of the mercantile and down the other, hurriedly gathering up the
items on the lengthy shopping list in her hand. Sometimes she felt more like
hired help than a nurse in training. Lately, both the doctor and his wife had
been assigning her more trivial tasks, sending her out on errands, and keeping
her busy with a multitude of household chores. Mrs. Kellerman had effectively
taken over as Willie’s nurse, only allowing Hattie to help with small tasks
from time to time.
She
swallowed back the doubts rising. Obviously, the Kellermans questioned her
abilities. Hadn’t she questioned herself as well? Despite her overpowering
desire to be of service in some way, she’d not yet found her true calling. The
sight of blood made her faint, the tar-like smell of carbolic left her gagging,
and as had been pointed out to her in no uncertain terms, she was too sensitive
to the needs of others. She felt too much. She cared too much.
Weren’t
those the qualities a good nurse should have? Hattie still puzzled over it,
even as she knew that her heart had strayed dangerously close to some invisible
line. She did have feelings for Willie, not only as a patient in her care, but
as a human being, as a man who was hurting.
Or was
it more? Had she somehow come to care about him in ways she shouldn’t?
She
chided herself for her foolishness, instructed Martha Taylor to put everything
on the Kellermans’ business account, and picked up the two boxes containing the
supplies and merchandise she’d purchased. Carrying them proved a challenge.
Stepping out from the store, Hattie jostled the boxes in her arms and tried to
see around them as she set off for the hospital.
When
she drew near, she caught sight of a hunched-over figure limping off in the
opposite direction. From a distance, the poor fellow might well have been an
aged, decrepit old man, barely able to ambulate. Hattie knew better.
Clutching
tight to the boxes, she dashed ahead, stopping only long enough to set her
burdens down on the porch before resuming her chase.
“Willie,”
she called out as soon as she was within shouting distance.
He
stopped and turned. “Hattie.” His voice rang out like a bell pealing on a
joyous occasion.
She
raced forward, breaking into a huge smile. “So, you’ve been dismissed?” she
asked. A ridiculous question, of course. “I’m sorry I
wasn’t there.”
“Don’t
be. No regrets, you know,” he chided. “Besides, you’re here now.” He leaned on
his crutch and smiled, but then his face turned serious. “It’s good to see you,
but you’d better get back. I wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble.”
“Right.” Hattie thought of the two boxes
she’d abandoned on the hospital’s porch. She’d hear about her carelessness. “I
do need to get back,” she said, casting a glance over her shoulder. “But not
without first wishing you well.”
“That’s
kind of you. Thank
Hugh Cave
Caren J. Werlinger
Jason Halstead
Lauren Blakely
Sharon Cullars
Melinda Barron
Daniela Fischerova, Neil Bermel
TASHA ALEXANDER
ADAM L PENENBERG
Susan Juby