Page 15 of Into the Starlight (Secrets of Sweetwater Crossing #3)

Chapter Fifteen

“I’ll probably be gone for a couple hours,” Louisa told Burke as she picked up her black doctor’s bag. “I need to check on two women. One of them likes to talk”—she paused and then added—“a lot. I suspect she’s lonely.”

“And you’re a good conversationalist.” Louisa was more gregarious than Joanna, who was reserved around people she didn’t know well, preferring to express herself through her music as she was now.

“If you want, you can close the office when Joanna’s finished. I doubt we’ll have any patients. For some reason, Wednesdays are the least busy days of the week. That’s why I schedule my midwife visits then.”

“I’m in no hurry to leave.” Now that Joanna had tuned the piano, ending the less than melodious hour while she tightened and loosened strings, pressing the same key so many times that Burke wanted to shout “enough,” she was playing melodies. And, as often happened when she was at the keyboard, he found himself relaxing, becoming caught up in the music, feeling as he had as a child when his mother had read him stories that transported him to another world.

Louisa shrugged as she headed for the front door. “All right, then. It’s your decision.”

Burke settled back in the chair and closed his eyes, enjoying the music that was flowing through the office. Afterward, he couldn’t have said how long he’d sat there. All he knew was that the doorbell’s tinkle and the sound of heavy footsteps accompanied by moans startled him.

As the music stopped abruptly, Burke rushed into the hallway, his practiced eye assessing the visitor. Herb Oberle, the man whose gout he’d treated, clutched his right arm close to his body, the blood-soaked sleeve leaving no doubt what caused the moans.

“Right this way, Mr. Oberle.” Burke ushered him into the examining room and helped him onto the table. “Let’s see what’s wrong.”

“That dang fool mule done kicked me.”

As he carefully removed the man’s shirt, Burke kept his face impassive, though the sight of a bone protruding through Oberle’s skin and the badly mangled flesh told him this would be no simple operation. “It looks like your mule did more than kick you.”

Oberle winced as Burke swabbed blood from the area around the break, needing to confirm the extent of the injury. “That ornery critter sure did. He stomped on me.” As he looked at the damage the mule had inflicted, which was more apparent now that Burke had wiped some of the blood away, he shuddered. “That hurts worse than the gout.”

“It’s a serious injury.” Though he would never alarm a patient unnecessarily, Burke made it a practice not to minimize a condition.

The man whose livelihood revolved around brewing beer gave Burke a look verging on despair. “You can save my arm, cain’t you? I cain’t work without it.”

“I’ll do my best.” That was all Burke could promise. Any time a bone was broken, there was the possibility of complications, and compound fractures increased the probability of infection because of the punctured skin. Skin, one of Burke’s professors had declared, was the body’s first line of defense. When it was compromised by a cut or abrasion, infection was likely to result, and when skin was as badly damaged as Oberle’s, the danger was multiplied.

“It will take a while to set your bone and stitch up the skin.” Burke wouldn’t tell his patient that the underlying tissue had been torn and would require many sutures if it was to heal. “I won’t lie to you. This will be painful. That’s why I’m going to give you some chloroform. It’ll put you to sleep and make the procedure easier for both of us.”

Oberle shook his head vehemently. “I don’t want that.”

“Mr. Oberle, you need it. Setting your arm will be painful. So will repairing your skin.”

“Nope.” Another shake accompanied the refusal. “Don’t want none of that. Doc Sheridan done give me some when I broke my leg. Made me sicker than a dog.”

Burke nodded slowly, acknowledging his patient’s fears. “He may have given you too much. The right amount should not make you ill.”

“Don’t want none. Do you hear me?” Oberle’s voice had risen to a shout.

“Yes, sir, I do.” Though Burke disagreed, he would not gainsay his patient. The man had a right to refuse sedation, even though it would make Burke’s job more difficult.

“I won’t give you any chloroform, but you need to do your best not to move when I’m pulling your bones back together.” Burke raised his own voice to ensure that Oberle understood the gravity of the situation. “Close your eyes and try to relax.”

“Promise you’ll save my arm.”

“Promise me, Burke. Promise you won’t leave her .” Edna’s voice echoed through Burke’s brain, reminding him how the worst twenty-four hours of his life had begun. He’d given her his promise, only to have it thrown back at him the next morning. “You promised,” Edna had shrieked. “It’s your fault. All your fault.”

Wrenching himself back to the present, Burke looked at his patient. The man’s fear was palpable, making him wish he could provide a guarantee. But he could not. “I’ll do my best,” he repeated. That was all he could promise.

As his patient closed his eyes, soft music began to fill the office. While he cleansed the arm and prepared to realign the pieces of bone, Burke kept an eye on Oberle’s condition, wishing he’d been able to sedate him. Though Oberle was accustomed to pain from his gout, this would not be a pleasant experience.

To Burke’s relief, the man began to relax, and while it was evident that he felt pain when Burke positioned the bone and even more when he sutured the skin, Oberle’s reaction was less violent than it had been during Burke’s initial examination, and by the time the cast had hardened, his patient was laughing as he regaled Burke with a story of how his mule—the same one that had broken his arm today—had overturned and then drunk a jug of beer.

“I reckon he was gettin’ his revenge on me,” Oberle said as he climbed off the table and prepared to leave. “Thanks, Doc. This weren’t as bad as I was expectin’.”

It could be coincidence, but Burke didn’t believe that for a minute. Watching Oberle’s remarkable calm reminded him of the story in the Bible when David played his harp to soothe Saul’s spirit. Never before had Burke seen evidence of music’s therapeutic power, but he knew that was what he’d witnessed today. Joanna’s talent was a gift from God, a gift she’d shared with Herb Oberle.

“I’m happy to see you again,” the proprietor of Ma’s Kitchen said as Joanna and Burke entered the restaurant, “but I’m sorry to say that I haven’t remembered anything more about your uncle.”

Burke smiled at the heavyset woman whose snub nose gave her a slightly mischievous look, even when she was at her most serious. “Thank you for trying, but that’s not why we’re here. Joanna and I wanted to celebrate something, and dinner at Ma’s seemed like the best way to do it.”

If Mrs. Tabor had been an insect, her antennae would have been vibrating. As it was, an inquisitive expression crossed her face, telling Joanna she wouldn’t rest until she’d discovered the cause for celebration.

“Certainly.” Mrs. Tabor nodded as she led them to a table near the front window. “Louisa prefers this spot, so I thought you might like it too.” She waited until they were seated, then leaned forward, as if they were conspirators. “I suppose I shouldn’t, but I’m going to be a nosy old woman and ask what you’re celebrating.”

Joanna did her best to hide her smile, letting Burke respond. “Joanna helped me with a patient this afternoon.”

“You did?” Mrs. Tabor studied Joanna as if seeking evidence that she’d developed new skills. “I thought Louisa was the one who did the doctoring.”

“She is. All I did was play the piano.” Joanna still had trouble believing Burke’s contention that it had made a difference, but he was convinced it had, just as he was convinced that God’s prompting was the reason she’d decided to tune the piano today.

“I didn’t do much, but I’d never turn down an opportunity to eat here.” The number of times the Vaughn family had dined at Ma’s while Joanna was growing up could be counted on one hand, making this a treat.

Apparently satisfied with the story, Mrs. Tabor straightened her spine. “I’m serving meatloaf and baked fish tonight. There’s spice cake for dessert.”

“Which do you recommend?” Burke asked her.

Before the restaurateur could respond, the sound of two men arguing caused everyone to stare at them.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Mrs. Tabor strode across the room. Though her words were not audible, her posture left no doubt that she would not tolerate such behavior, and within seconds, one man stormed out, leaving the other to finish his meal.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Mrs. Tabor said when she returned to Joanna and Burke’s table. “I assure you that that’s an unusual occurrence.” She paused for a second, then shrugged. “Maybe there was a reason that happened, because it jogged my memory. The only time I can recall an outburst like that was when your uncle lived here. He normally ate at the Albrights’, but he came here one night. The next thing I knew, he and Malcolm Alcott were shouting at each other. Everyone knew Malcolm had a temper, but Clive was so mild-mannered that it was the talk of the town for the next few days.”

Burke’s expression said he was as intrigued by this new revelation about his uncle as Joanna was. “I don’t suppose anyone knew what the fight was about.”

Mrs. Tabor shook her head. “You’re right about that, Burke. Both men claimed it was nothing more than a friendly dispute. Friendly.” She scoffed. “If you’d been here, you’d have known it was anything but friendly. Now, have you decided whether you want meatloaf or fish?”

Joanna had no difficulty choosing. “I’ll have the fish. That’s one thing Emily doesn’t like to cook.” She considered removing the bones too much work.

When Burke ordered the same, Mrs. Tabor returned to the kitchen.

“I wish we knew more about that argument.” Though Joanna knew that everyone could be roused to anger if given enough provocation, the image of a public altercation did not jibe with the picture she’d formed of Burke’s uncle.

“So do I, but since it was so long ago, it’s unlikely the mayor recalls it.”

“And even if he did, he’d probably revise the story to make himself appear to have been the victim.”

Burke chuckled. “I suspect you’re right. Let’s put that behind us and enjoy the evening. I’m glad we’re here.”

“So am I,” Joanna told Burke. “Your invitation was kind, but it wasn’t necessary. Playing the piano is a joy for me, not a chore.”

“Did you ever consider that I might simply have wanted an excuse to have supper with you?”

The question took her aback. When Joanna shook her head, Burke said, “I did. I thought we might both benefit from a change in our routine. As much as I enjoy your sister’s cooking, meals at Finley House can be a bit ...”

He paused, perhaps searching for the correct adjective.

“Loud?” Joanna volunteered. Though she’d never admit it to Emily, there were times when the noise overwhelmed her. Perhaps it was because her companions for over a year had been adults. Noah and at times Beulah were a far cry from her sedate grandmother and the dignified men who’d taught her. Still, she had no right to complain or even comment, because Finley House was Emily’s now. Joanna lived there, but even though it was the same building that had been her home for most of her life, it no longer felt like her home. It was Emily and Craig’s.

“Loud?” Burke shrugged. “I was going to say exuberant, although meals can’t be exuberant. It’s the people eating those meals.”

Joanna waited until Mrs. Tabor had set their meals before them before she responded. “Emily tells me Beulah has become more talkative in the past few weeks. She’s not sure why, but Craig says she’s no longer the last one to volunteer an answer at school. As for Noah, from what Mrs. Carmichael has said, he’s always been determined to make his opinions known.”

Burke took a bite of the fish and declared it delicious. “Yours is a lively household, no doubt about it. That probably won’t change much when Louisa and Josh move out.”

“And then we’ll have Emily’s baby and not too long afterward mine.” It should have felt awkward discussing pregnancies with a man who wasn’t her husband, but it didn’t. Though she couldn’t explain why, nothing about Burke conformed to Joanna’s idea of normal interactions with a member of the opposite sex. She was more relaxed with him than she’d been with any man, including Kurt.

“When is your baby due?”

“Louisa says early May. Why?”

Burke’s smile warmed her more than the bite of piping hot fish she’d just swallowed. “I had another reason for inviting you to dine.”

“An ulterior motive?” The almost flirtatious tone of her voice surprised Joanna. She wasn’t a flirt, never had been, and yet tonight she sounded a bit like one. Oh, how she hoped Burke hadn’t noticed.

Fortunately, when he answered, there was no sign that he’d misconstrued her question. “You could call it that, although I prefer to say it’s my second motive. You weren’t in the room, so you couldn’t see what was happening, but there’s no question that Mr. Oberle’s surgery was easier because you were playing the piano. Music soothed him almost as much as chloroform would have.”

“Why didn’t you give him chloroform?”

“He was adamant in his refusal. Even when I disagree, I won’t go against a patient’s wishes. The fact is, Joanna, you helped me immensely. My patient was calmer, and so was I.”

Burke’s expression was solemn. “Here’s my second reason for inviting you to have supper with me: I wondered whether you’d be willing to do it again. You know Louisa and I don’t treat serious injuries every day, but I believe your music would also be beneficial during less critical procedures. I could use your help, and when she sees how effective your music is, I’m confident Louisa will want you to continue after I leave.”

Burke wasn’t finished. “I know you refused Craig and Josh’s suggestions, but I hope you’ll consider mine. You don’t have to answer immediately. All I ask is that you consider it.”

Joanna took a deep breath, trying to settle her roiling thoughts. Though the reminder that Burke would be leaving had turned the previously delicious fish to dust in her mouth, her heart had soared at his suggestion. Playing for patients was something she’d never considered, a far cry from performing on a concert stage, and yet ...

As she took another breath, the memory of her father reminding his congregation that God had given each of them a talent but allowed them to choose how they used that talent flashed through her brain. Father’s sermon had included the story from Matthew of the three servants who’d been given talents and how two of them had invested wisely. Joanna did not want to be the one who’d done nothing with her talent, incurring the master’s wrath.

She thought of her time at the sanatorium. Would her suffering have been reduced if there’d been music? Perhaps. Perhaps that was why the prospect of being able to lessen someone’s pain filled her heart with hope and a sense of rightness.

“I don’t need more time to think about it,” she told Burke. “My answer is yes. You’re a wonderful doctor. If you believe my music can help you, I’ll play for you and your patients whenever you need me.”

Burke’s smile left no doubt that he was happy. So was she.