Page 6 of Into the Starlight (Secrets of Sweetwater Crossing #3)

Chapter Six

She should not have eaten that ham sandwich. Joanna laid a hand on her stomach as she descended the stairs for breakfast, giving thanks that the queasiness had diminished. Ham had never agreed with her, but she hadn’t wanted to cause Emily more work by asking for something different, and so she’d accepted half a sandwich at suppertime and satisfied the rest of her unusually robust appetite with potato salad and a piece of apple pie. She’d paid the price this morning.

“Good morning,” she said with a bright smile as she entered the kitchen, determined that no one would know she wasn’t feeling her best. “Did you make apple pancakes?” Joanna hoped she’d be able to eat at least one. Her smile brightened at the sight of the pot of tea that Emily had placed next to the coffee. Though Joanna normally savored a cup of coffee with breakfast, tea seemed like a safer choice today.

“I remembered that you like pancakes, and I had a couple apples left over from the pie.” Emily flipped one of the cakes, revealing a properly browned side. “Beulah will be sorry she missed them, so please don’t mention breakfast to her.”

“I won’t.” The sip of tea accomplished what Joanna had hoped and settled her stomach.

“Who’s Beulah?”

Joanna turned to greet Burke, who was looking particularly handsome this morning with his sometimes-unruly hair tamed and his face freshly shaved, but it was Emily who responded. “She’s one of Craig’s pupils. Beulah spends Monday through Thursday nights with us because she lives too far out of town for her mother to bring her in each day.”

Though it was an unusual arrangement, Burke asked no questions. Joanna continued the explanation. “I don’t want you to be surprised when you meet her. Beulah is what some would call simple.”

“I happen to hate that term, and it’s one we never use here,” Emily said firmly. “Beulah’s one of the sweetest children you’ll ever meet, but she doesn’t look like everyone else, and she’s slower to learn than the rest of the class.”

Burke took the chair next to Joanna and accepted the cup of coffee Emily offered. “Beulah sounds like a boy back in Samuels. I’m surprised she attends school. He was kept at home.”

“And so was Beulah.” A nod confirmed Emily’s words. “When Craig and I saw how much she wanted to go to school, we devised this plan. It’s worked out well for all of us.” And was another example of Emily and Craig’s kindness.

Burke placed his cup back on the table and nodded. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

The sincerity in his voice raised him another notch in Joanna’s esteem. If Father were here, he would have approved of Burke. Joanna certainly did.

“I imagine your office was larger than this,” Louisa said as she unlocked the front door to the doctor’s office Burke had noticed the day he and Della arrived and ushered him inside.

A hallway bisected the building, with two doors on its right, a door and an open stairway on the left. Louisa led the way into the room on the left. “This is where I spend most of my time. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for improvements,” she said as she opened the shutters and let sunlight stream into the room. “Doc Sheridan was a good doctor, but he was also a bit old-fashioned.”

Burke gave the room a quick appraisal. “It appears you have everything you need.” A desk, an examining table, cabinets filled with medicines, a small bookcase with manuals. His office had those functions divided into two separate rooms, one where he and Felix met patients and kept records, the other for examinations and basic treatment. Though Louisa’s single room was smaller than either of the ones Burke had had, it was well-equipped and probably adequate for a town the size of Sweetwater Crossing.

He pulled a book from the shelf, opened it, and glanced at the first page. “A newer version is available.”

Louisa shrugged, as if not surprised. “Does it have more information about lung disorders?”

“I believe it does.” Burke flipped to the pulmonary section and nodded. “It definitely does. Some of the treatments listed here are no longer used.”

“I’ll order the new edition. I’m sure you know that my interest is more than academic. I want to do everything I can to help my sister.”

Burke nodded. “Joanna told me she had pneumonia. It’s a terrible disease and one I think should be eradicated.”

Louisa’s eyes shone with approval. “I agree. Let me show you the rest of the office, and then we can discuss ways to treat pneumonia.” She opened the door to the room on the opposite side of the hallway. “As you can see, this is the infirmary.”

Spotlessly clean, it held two beds and a small stove, presumably for heating water and food for the doctor and patients. “You’re right that my office in Samuels was larger. We had five beds in our infirmary, but that’s because we served more people. Even after the slaves were freed, many remained to work on the plantations and needed medical care all too often.”

When Louisa opened the final door, Burke chuckled. “Now, that’s something I didn’t expect. I’m not surprised that you have a room for storage, but a piano?”

“Mrs. Sheridan was insistent that their daughter learn to play, but it was too difficult to get the instrument upstairs, so Doc left it here.” Louisa flashed a wry smile. “Phoebe’s one of my dearest friends, but even I wouldn’t call her a talented musician. Her playing was so bad that the only times she could practice were when Doc was on house calls.”

“Is there a full apartment upstairs?” When Burke had first seen the two-story building, he’d assumed the doctor used the second floor as his residence.

Louisa nodded. “Josh and I talked about living there, but we have more space at Finley House, and neither of us wants to rent it out.” She gestured toward the open staircase. “There wouldn’t be enough privacy if we had patients staying in the infirmary, and even though we could put locks on the door, we’d worry about all the medicine. There’s no reason to think it would happen again, but someone contaminated the contents of one of my jars a few months ago.”

“A wise decision.” Burke had not had that problem in Samuels, but no one other than Felix and Edna had entered his office when he wasn’t there.

As the front doorbell tinkled, Louisa smiled. “There’s our first patient.”

Burke shook his head. “Yours, Louisa. I’m here as an observer.”

“And, I hope, as an adviser.” She raised her voice to greet the woman who’d entered the hallway. “Good morning, Mrs. Oberle. How can I help you today?”

The brown-haired lady whose mustard-colored dress would have made Burke’s sisters shudder began coughing. When she’d managed to control the spasms, she looked at Louisa, her dark eyes filled with hope. That was the kind of trust every physician strove to earn.

“I need more of that cough medicine.” If Mrs. Oberle noticed Burke, she gave no sign.

“Let me listen to your lungs.” When Louisa led the way into the examining room and helped her patient onto the table, Burke followed, remaining in the doorway to avoid alarming Mrs. Oberle. After Louisa carefully adjusted her stethoscope and performed a complete auscultation, she nodded her approval. “Your lungs are clearer than last week. That means they’re healing.”

The woman did not appear to share Louisa’s optimism. “Not as fast as I want.”

Though she didn’t say it, her tone left little doubt that she believed Louisa should be doing more, and her hopeful expression faded. Rather than let Louisa lose a patient’s confidence in her skill, Burke decided to intervene. “Healing takes longer than any of us would want.”

Mrs. Oberle turned to stare at him, as if registering his presence for the first time. “Who are you?”

“This is Dr. Burke Finley. He and his aunt are visiting us.” Louisa performed the introduction.

“Finley? Like Finley House?”

“Yes.” Once again, Louisa answered. “He’s Clive Finley’s nephew. His aunt was Clive’s fiancée.”

The woman’s brown eyes radiated curiosity. “Well, now, that’s interesting. And you say you’re a doctor?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Curiosity turned to approval. “I hope you’ll stay a while. If you do, maybe I can convince my husband to see you. His gout’s been paining him something fierce.” She gave Louisa a look filled with chagrin. “I’m sorry, Louisa, but you know how men are. They don’t think women should be doctors.” Her gaze moved back to Burke. “I’m glad you’re here, Dr. Finley.”

So was he. Even though it was only temporary, the prospect of helping Louisa with her practice was appealing.

“I’m so glad you came.” Miss Heppel clasped both of Joanna’s hands and drew her inside. “You don’t know how much I missed you while you were gone. None of my other pupils cared about learning to play. The only reason they took lessons was because their mothers insisted.” She shook her head in a self-deprecating move. “But you don’t need to hear me complain. Let’s sit for a while, and then I hope you’ll play for me. I want to hear how much you’ve improved.”

Joanna took the seat her former teacher indicated and looked around the parlor. The grand piano that many would have said was too large for the room still dominated it, leaving space for little more than the settee, low table, and two upholstered chairs. Miss Heppel still had not replaced the wallpaper, though it had faded more than Joanna recalled, and the curtains bore additional rents from sun rot.

By any standard, it was a shabby room, and yet Joanna’s heart leapt with pleasure at the sight of the place where she’d spent so many hours, repeating a single measure more times than she could count until she’d satisfied Miss Heppel, basking in her teacher’s praise when she’d mastered a particularly difficult piece.

After placing her reticule on the floor next to her, Joanna began to peel off her gloves. When she’d laid them carefully on top of the reticule, she smiled at her hostess. “Do you know that this is the first time I’ve sat anywhere other than on the piano bench?”

Miss Heppel started to reply, then reached out to grab Joanna’s left hand, staring at her ring. “You’re married!”

“I was,” Joanna explained, “but he died. That’s why I’m in mourning.”

“Oh.” Miss Heppel was speechless for an instant. “I assumed it was for your grandmother.”

“She died too.”

“Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. I had no idea you’d suffered a double loss.” She took a deep breath. “Shall we speak of happier subjects? Or maybe you could play something for me and give me a chance to compose myself.”

As Joanna walked the few steps to the piano, she debated which piece to play. It wouldn’t be Chopin. Miss Heppel did not share Joanna’s enthusiasm for the composer, even though she taught her pupils to play his music. Deciding on Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in A Major, Joanna opened the fallboard and began to play. When she reached the final chord, Miss Heppel began to applaud.

“I was right. You’re remarkably talented. Europe was good for you.”

“It was, and yet ...” Joanna paused, not sure how much to reveal.

“It wasn’t your home. Sweetwater Crossing is.” Miss Heppel’s gray eyes rested on Joanna, as if daring her to disagree.

She couldn’t. No matter how many changes she’d found, no matter how uncomfortable she sometimes felt, this was still Joanna’s home.

“I doubt we’ll see any more patients today.” Louisa seemed resigned to having a small practice. “I’ll stay for another hour, but there’s no need for you to sit here and be bored. I can read the journal you lent me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Grateful for the reprieve from what had indeed proved to be a boring afternoon, Burke rose and gathered his hat and bag. Though he hadn’t told Louisa everything he’d learned about pneumonia, when he’d seen her eyes begin to lose their focus, he’d realized he’d given her too much information too quickly. She needed time to absorb today’s discussion before they proceeded.

“I thought I’d stop in the mercantile,” he told her.

“Good choice.” Louisa chuckled. “Josh’s other businesses—the tearoom and teashop—cater mostly to women. That’s why he hired women to manage them and spends most of his time at the mercantile. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

Burke crossed the street and headed east, passing the mayor’s office on his way to the mercantile. Though he was tempted to enter and ask Mayor Alcott whether he remembered anything about his uncle, Burke decided it would be best to give him and the sheriff a few days. If the men approached him or Della of their own volition, they’d be more likely to share whatever they recalled, and maybe by then the mayor would have recovered from whatever had caused his unexpected reaction to Burke.

He paused for a second before opening the door to what Louisa claimed was Josh’s preferred place to spend the day. The exterior of the store was unremarkable, but the displays in the large plate glass window were artfully arranged and contained items designed to appeal to men, women, and even children.

“See anything you like?” Josh asked when Burke entered the store.

“Those peppermint sticks look appealing.” So did the store itself. The aisles between counters were wider than those in the Samuels mercantile, giving it an air of luxury even though most of the merchandise was ordinary.

“I didn’t see prices on anything in the window. Do you let customers bargain?”

“No. I sell the candy at cost or sometimes even a little less, depending on the customer’s situation, but everything else has fixed prices. The candy pricing is deliberate. My grandfather told my cousin and me that mothers find it difficult to refuse a begging child and that once they’re inside the store, they’ll discover other things they either need or want.”

It was an interesting concept. “Has the strategy proven as effective here as in New York?”

“Yes.” Josh gestured toward the counters filled with merchandise. “I’ve added items the previous owner never stocked and have been able to get rid of almost all of his mistakes.”

Burke looked around, trying to spot what Josh considered a mistake. The only items that appeared out of place were two fishing poles propped against the wall in the back corner.

When he saw the direction of Burke’s glance, Josh chuckled. “You found them. I’ve been told they’re excellent fishing poles, but no one in Sweetwater Crossing seems interested. I suppose I could simply throw them out, but I can’t bring myself to do that.” He raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be interested, would you?”

Burke shook his head. “I won’t be here long enough to go fishing.”

When two ladies entered the store, a petite woman emerged from a room in the back to assist them, leaving Josh with Burke.

“Sweetwater Crossing is a long way from New York. I’m curious about how you ended up here.”

Shrugging, Josh said, “It wasn’t my plan, that’s for certain. I broke a leg when my horse threw me. Fortunately, Louisa found me and brought me here to set it. By the time it healed, I’d realized that Sweetwater Crossing was a special place.”

It was unique. That was undeniable. “Don’t you miss the excitement of a big city?” The farther he’d traveled from Samuels, the less desire Burke had to return. His next home, he’d decided, would be in a city. Not only would no one there know about the horrible mistake he’d made, but the sheer size would provide the opportunity to explore new ways to use his training. He might even be able to begin work on developing a vaccine for pneumonia.

Josh clasped his hand on Burke’s shoulder. “You’re mistaken if you believe Sweetwater Crossing lacks excitement. It may be a small town, but it has its share of secrets and intrigue. Now, let me get you one of those peppermint sticks you wanted.”

“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Joanna asked when Burke suggested that walking would benefit her lungs. They’d finished supper, and rather than sit on the front porch as they had the previous evening, he’d recommended a walk. “The doctors in Switzerland told me I needed to avoid overexerting myself. They said that could cause more damage.”

His green eyes darkened, making her wonder whether her questioning him had hurt him. That hadn’t been her intention. Joanna trusted Burke, but she couldn’t forget the sanatorium physicians’ advice. They were, after all, reputed to be the best in the world at treating lung diseases.

“What they told you is true for the first weeks after pneumonia, but your lungs have healed enough now that exercise which makes you breathe a bit harder is good for them. It’s like stretching a muscle in your arm or leg, a way to strengthen the muscles in your lungs.”

Remembering how Louisa had touted the benefits of stretching when Emily had had a cramp in her leg, Joanna nodded. “All right. I defer to your knowledge.” She pulled her shawl from the hook near the door and draped it over her shoulders.

“I wish all my patients were as agreeable,” he said as they descended the front steps.

Joanna blinked in surprise and turned to glare at him. “I’m not your patient.” The words came out with more force than she’d expected, but the thought of Burke viewing her as someone under his professional care was unexpectedly distasteful. It must be because she’d been an invalid for far too long. She’d chafed at the poking and prodding that had characterized her days in Switzerland and had made a silent vow to never again be admitted to a hospital.

This time there was no sign of pain in Burke’s expression. Instead, he appeared almost amused by her caustic reply and bent his arm so she could place her hand on his elbow as they made their way toward the street.

“Few people enjoy being under a doctor’s care, particularly for an extended period, but I hope you’re my friend and that you’ll consider my advice that of a friend who wants only the best for you.”

A friend. That was decidedly more appealing than being a patient. If Burke was her friend—and Joanna hoped he was—he would be the first man to carry that distinction. George had been ... She didn’t know how to complete the sentence, and so she wouldn’t. George was gone. Herr Ridel had been her teacher; Kurt became her suitor almost as soon as he arrived at the sanatorium. Her suitor, her fiancé, and then her husband. As memories rushed through her, Joanna sighed.

Burke slowed their pace, his demeanor once again solemn. “You look sad. Is the thought of being my friend so unpleasant?”

Once again, she’d caused pain when that hadn’t been her intention. “No, not at all. I was remembering my husband.”

“Would it help to talk about him? One of the things I learned in medical school was to be a good listener.”

Shaking her head, Joanna said, “It’s too beautiful a night for sad thoughts.” And, despite the happiness of the few weeks they’d spent as man and wife, most of Joanna’s memories of Kurt were sad ones.

She took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly as Burke had advised before she spoke again. “I love this time of the day when daylight fades and the first stars come out. When I was a child, I used to think there was something magical about starlight. It’s so different from the light of the sun and the moon. The way stars twinkle makes them seem special. I used to tell myself that I was special when I walked into the starlight.”

Her sisters had laughed when she’d told them that, not understanding how much she wanted to feel special, but Burke did not. “I never thought of stars that way. I was fascinated by the moon and how it changes from day to day. I particularly like crescent moons.”

“But the moon hides its face every month. The stars don’t. They’re more dependable.” And dependability was something Joanna prized. “Oh, listen to me, arguing the merits of stars versus the moon. You must think I’m a bit crazy.” Emily and Louisa certainly had.

“Not at all. Everything you said confirms what I already knew: you’re an artist. You deal with more ethereal things than most people, including me. Everything I do is grounded in facts. I don’t let my imagination fly very often.”

He acted as if that was a failing, but Joanna knew it wasn’t. As Burke had said, it was simply a difference between them.

She quickened her pace, then said, “There’s nothing more important or more valuable than saving lives.” Even though she hadn’t enjoyed the treatments she’d received, she knew she wouldn’t be alive if she hadn’t endured them.

Burke’s lips thinned for an instant, telling Joanna whatever he was going to say disturbed him. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to save all of them.”

“But you did your best.” Joanna was certain of that. “That’s all anyone can do. The rest is in God’s hands.”

Though his arm relaxed ever so slightly, perhaps because of her reassurance, Burke shook his head. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Joanna heard the anguish in his voice and wished she could do something to lessen it. “Do you want to tell me about it? I may not have gone to medical school, but I’ve learned to listen.”

She’d listened to Grandmother when she’d claimed that a year or so in Europe was what Joanna needed. She’d listened to Marta complain about her illness, brag about her brother, then blame the doctors for his death. She’d listened to Kurt recount the story of his ill-fated first marriage. She’d listened and listened and listened, but none of that seemed as important as listening to Burke now.

He shook his head again. “This is one story you don’t want to hear.”