bit." His worried eyes roamed her face, sending sudden warmth all through her. "Nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about!" Nora gasped, finishing the coffee, which really had helped. Now her hands had stopped trembling like those of an old woman with palsy. "That crazy creature might have killed you! When I think—"
A distracted look crossed the man's face. "How do you suppose I feel when I think he might have killed
you
?"
"For heaven's sake," Margaret said, bringing coffee to Paul, "stop fussing over each other, you two. In my book, you've had a very interesting experience. When you're an old lady, Nora, you can boast to your grandchildren about the time you were used for target practice by a bearded mountaineer."
With a deep sigh, she added: "Things like that never happen to me."
Nora laughed, announced that she felt ever so much better, and that maybe she'd better go see how Andrew Fine was doing.
"You are to go home," Margaret ordered firmly. She personally would check on Andy Fine. Nora was not to show her face in the hospital tomorrow. If she took two or three days off, that would be even better.
"I'll drive you home," Paul suggested, only to be told by Nora that he would do no such thing. After a short but heated argument, they compromised. Nora would drive home by herself. Paul would drive over to see her after dinner. Maybe they could take a short drive. "We have a lot to talk about, honey."
Their eyes met, and again Nora felt a comforting warmth pervade her. Things were going to be all right between them. His loving smile told her so.
"Hmmmm," said Margaret. "I've heard tell there's nothing like a bit of shooting from the hip to settle worrisome problems."
Nora burst out laughing, a little amazed that she was now able to laugh. "You've got the locale wrong, Maggie. I'll always believe that crazy loon had his gun stashed away in his beard."
Driving home, Nora decided that she would say nothing to the family about her near-brush with death. While she felt considerably better, she was still shaky, certainly not up to spending the dinner hour rehashing what had happened, or to listening to her mother's critical remarks about Paul.
From the start, Caroline had taken a dim view of her romance with a doctor who seemed content to settle down in a small town where he could "never make much of himself."
"Paul reminds me a lot of your father, Nora. Now I'm not saying John wasn't one of the best men who ever lived. But he lacked drive. He was perfectly satisfied to spend his life doctoring poor folks, and when they didn't pay the first bill he sent, John figured he shouldn't pester them by sending any more bills. I used to tell him that charity should begin at home, but he couldn't seem to see why I wasn't satisfied with a comfortable home and sufficient good, nourishing food."
A man who looked at things that way, according to Caroline, could be very irritating. "No matter how much you love him, you can't help wishing he'd bother a little more about giving you the nice things every woman wants."
Nora was less than two blocks from home when she saw a child running along the pavement, sobbing.
It was Bobby, Jerry's four-year-old son.
She braked the car and got out.
"Where do you think you're going, honey?" The child had orders never to leave the front yard by himself.
She caught up with him, stopping his headlong dash in the direction of downtown.
He tried to wrench free of her hands. "I'm going to look for my daddy. He went off to get some ice cream, and he ain't come back, and Mummy says maybe he's gone away and left us and ain't ever coming back. And I've got to find him."
Leaning down, Nora drew the little boy close. "Your daddy wouldn't go away and leave you, darling."
Bobby was a high-strung, nervous child with curly yellow hair and the face of an angel. She loved him as dearly as if he were her own son, and it made Nora sick all through to watch him growing into a highly neurotic child in a
"Nothing to worry about!" Nora gasped, finishing the coffee, which really had helped. Now her hands had stopped trembling like those of an old woman with palsy. "That crazy creature might have killed you! When I think—"
A distracted look crossed the man's face. "How do you suppose I feel when I think he might have killed
you
?"
"For heaven's sake," Margaret said, bringing coffee to Paul, "stop fussing over each other, you two. In my book, you've had a very interesting experience. When you're an old lady, Nora, you can boast to your grandchildren about the time you were used for target practice by a bearded mountaineer."
With a deep sigh, she added: "Things like that never happen to me."
Nora laughed, announced that she felt ever so much better, and that maybe she'd better go see how Andrew Fine was doing.
"You are to go home," Margaret ordered firmly. She personally would check on Andy Fine. Nora was not to show her face in the hospital tomorrow. If she took two or three days off, that would be even better.
"I'll drive you home," Paul suggested, only to be told by Nora that he would do no such thing. After a short but heated argument, they compromised. Nora would drive home by herself. Paul would drive over to see her after dinner. Maybe they could take a short drive. "We have a lot to talk about, honey."
Their eyes met, and again Nora felt a comforting warmth pervade her. Things were going to be all right between them. His loving smile told her so.
"Hmmmm," said Margaret. "I've heard tell there's nothing like a bit of shooting from the hip to settle worrisome problems."
Nora burst out laughing, a little amazed that she was now able to laugh. "You've got the locale wrong, Maggie. I'll always believe that crazy loon had his gun stashed away in his beard."
Driving home, Nora decided that she would say nothing to the family about her near-brush with death. While she felt considerably better, she was still shaky, certainly not up to spending the dinner hour rehashing what had happened, or to listening to her mother's critical remarks about Paul.
From the start, Caroline had taken a dim view of her romance with a doctor who seemed content to settle down in a small town where he could "never make much of himself."
"Paul reminds me a lot of your father, Nora. Now I'm not saying John wasn't one of the best men who ever lived. But he lacked drive. He was perfectly satisfied to spend his life doctoring poor folks, and when they didn't pay the first bill he sent, John figured he shouldn't pester them by sending any more bills. I used to tell him that charity should begin at home, but he couldn't seem to see why I wasn't satisfied with a comfortable home and sufficient good, nourishing food."
A man who looked at things that way, according to Caroline, could be very irritating. "No matter how much you love him, you can't help wishing he'd bother a little more about giving you the nice things every woman wants."
Nora was less than two blocks from home when she saw a child running along the pavement, sobbing.
It was Bobby, Jerry's four-year-old son.
She braked the car and got out.
"Where do you think you're going, honey?" The child had orders never to leave the front yard by himself.
She caught up with him, stopping his headlong dash in the direction of downtown.
He tried to wrench free of her hands. "I'm going to look for my daddy. He went off to get some ice cream, and he ain't come back, and Mummy says maybe he's gone away and left us and ain't ever coming back. And I've got to find him."
Leaning down, Nora drew the little boy close. "Your daddy wouldn't go away and leave you, darling."
Bobby was a high-strung, nervous child with curly yellow hair and the face of an angel. She loved him as dearly as if he were her own son, and it made Nora sick all through to watch him growing into a highly neurotic child in a
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