The Lady Who Lived Again (15 page)

His profile softened as he turned to face her again.

“You’re a fine doctor, Jace, and it’s only a matter of time before they see this, too.”

His humble expression took her aback. Jace was not a modest man. A certain degree of arrogance was inherent to his profession—his personality. That she’d managed to flatter him with her candor was a charming surprise.

“I hope you’re right. Some lives might depend on it. Not to mention the success of my practice.”

Jace turned the buggy onto the dirt road that led to the woods. He gestured with a jut of his chin. “Speaking of stubborn patients…”

The Mead house came into view. The rustic house sat nestled in a small clearing in the woods at the top of the hill. The trail was narrow and steep. Maddie held tight as the buggy trudged along, until they stopped in the drive in front of the house.

“Mrs. Mead can be difficult,” Jace said. “During my last visit she threatened to clunk me with a rolling pin when I attempted to listen to her lungs.”

Maddie chuckled, picturing the scene. “Shall I wait here?” she asked.

Jace shook his head. “It may be a lengthy visit. Come inside with me.” He pointed a finger. “But stay out of the way.”

She nodded but promised nothing. She’d had enough of staying out of the way.

He helped her from the buggy, and they walked to the porch. Mrs. Mead’s son, Carter, opened the door before Jace had a chance to knock.

“Go on in, Doc,” Carter said. “I’ll be out in the garden if you need me.” He acknowledged Maddie with a cool nod as he ushered them inside.

The air was permeated with the delicious aroma of Mrs. Mead’s famous buttermilk tea cakes. Heaping plates of freshly baked cakes lined the large working table in the center of the kitchen. Mrs. Mead sat beside the table, a wet towel covering her foot, which was raised on a chair.

Maddie stood with her back to the sink as Jace saw to his patient. Craning her neck, she watched as he lifted the towel, unveiling Mrs. Mead’s swollen foot. He frowned at the beads of fluid seeping through the blistered skin of her toes.

“You haven’t been following my directions, have you, Mrs. Mead?”

The large woman waved him away. “I’m much too busy to rest my feet every time they start aching.”

“And what about the diet?”

She grimaced, as though she smelled something vile.

Jace glanced around the kitchen. “You’re still baking these cakes every day?”

“Of course,” she snapped. “It’s my living.”

The discord between doctor and patient was obvious. Maddie sensed where this was going, and it wouldn’t go well. She considered returning to the buggy to avoid the uncomfortable scene unfolding, but curiosity—and the urge to help make peace—kept her glued at the sink.

Jace opened his bag. “And as you’re baking all these sugar-and-lard-stuffed cakes, are you sampling them?”

Mrs. Mead narrowed her eyes.

“What are you getting at?”

“Oh, I think you know, Mrs. Mead. I’ll ask you again, are you tasting the cakes as you bake them?”

“I must sample each batch.”

“Uh-huh.” He slipped his stethoscope beneath her bibbed apron and proceeded to listen to her heart.

To Maddie’s relief the woman made no move for the rolling pin.

“And how many batches do you bake each day?” he inquired as he checked her pulse.

She lifted her chin.

“At least eight,” she grumbled, tugging her wrist from his grasp.

Jace frowned.

“As I’ve mentioned before, this foot problem is a result of poor diet. You must lose some weight. Thirty pounds at least.”

Mrs. Mead’s jaw dropped with the force of an anvil.

“You must cease this baking and eating so much.”

“Well, I never…” The older woman’s cheeks blazed with fire.

“And that’s why your feet are the size of tree stumps,” Jace said.

Mrs. Mead gasped, and Maddie gasped along with her. She had to say something to defuse the situation before Jace went too far.

“Baking is her livelihood, Doctor Merrick. The local hotels depend on her to supply these cakes for their guests.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Mead chimed in. “The summer season is now underway. I have orders to fill and a family to support. You can’t expect me to quit baking.”

“No one expects that,” Maddie assured her. She glanced to Jace, then wished she hadn’t.

His face was like steel. A vein emerged at his throat. Maddie turned to Mrs. Mead before he erupted.

“But perhaps it’s unnecessary to taste every batch, ma’am.”

“I—”

“You’ve been baking these cakes day after day for well over ten years. No doubt you follow the same family recipe.”

“Well, of course.”

“Then you don’t really need to test them, do you?” prodded Maddie. “You know your formula consistently yields a wonderful product.”

“Perhaps. But my grammy always said the key to our tea cakes is the light and fluffy crumb. I must ensure that’s what I deliver to my customers every single time.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Jace snorted.

Mrs. Mead glared at him.

Maddie did too. Jace’s coarse bedside manner would win him neither friends nor patients. No wonder people were reluctant to take his advice.

“Mrs. Mead, Doctor Merrick is only concerned for your health.”

“And you, of all people, are here to defend him?”

“He needs no defending,” Maddie shot back. “He’s here to help you. He can’t do that if you refuse to do as he says.”

The stubborn woman clamped her lips.

Maddie took a quick breath to summon her patience. “You’re an exceptional baker, Mrs. Mead. I suggest you trust in that ability and taste only once per day. I’m certain the quality of your cakes will not suffer. And I believe your health will improve, too.”

The woman slumped back in the chair, considering this.

“I suppose I could try.”

“Wise decision,” Jace said as he examined her foot more closely. “I’m going to increase the dosage of your medication.” He pointed a finger. “And I advise you to follow my directions. Because if you don’t, we might be forced to amputate that foot.”

Her eyes flashed wide with fear.

“All right,” she snapped, but more in defeat than anger.

“Very good.” Jace pulled his ledger from his bag and scribbled something in his notes.

“But remember, Doctor Merrick, I’m blaming you if my cakes aren’t up to par. Imagine selling them without tasting them first,” she muttered.

“I’ll accept full responsibility,” he said as he wrote.

“The cakes will be delicious,” Maddie promised. “They’ve always been my favorite treat of the summer.”

The compliment seemed to appease Mrs. Mead.

“I suppose you may as well take some then. I always bake extra.” She leaned to the table and filled a basket with golden loaves. Maddie accepted the hard-earned reward with a smile of relief that the visit was over.

“I’ll be back to check on you at the end of the week,” Jace told the woman as he packed up his bag.

“Yes, yes, good-bye.” The woman waved them out the door.

The fresh air felt wonderful as they walked the stone path to the buggy. With each step, Maddie awaited Jace’s censure for her interference, preparing her defense. Had he used one iota of tact with Mrs. Mead, Maddie would not have been driven to meddle.

“That went better than expected,” he said finally.

Maddie stared agape.

“You’re not serious?” She tilted her head as she realized he was. “Jace, have you never heard the expression about catching more flies with honey than with vinegar?”

He frowned. “People need to use common sense. They must follow their doctor’s instructions. It’s as simple as that.”

“From what I witnessed in there, it’s not always that simple.”

“My patients are my responsibility, Maddie.”

“I understand that, but I—”

“You’re not a physician.”

His lofty tone only served to provoke her. “And you’re not in Pittsburgh anymore. People here are set in their ways, you said so yourself. These patients are your neighbors. Neighbors you have to face every day.”

“It’s my job to save my patients, not befriend them. I won’t risk their health by tiptoeing on eggshells to spare their feelings.”

“I’m not suggesting you do. I’m merely suggesting you don’t insult them. That you soften the manner in which you present your advice.”

“So much for staying out of the way,” he muttered.

“I had to do something. For goodness sakes, you all but told the woman she was fat.”

“It got her attention.”

“But not her cooperation. And isn’t that more important?”

He stared in silent annoyance.

Maddie sighed. “You’re a fine doctor, but your treatments will do no good if patients refuse them. I’m only trying to help—”

“I don’t need your help.” The stern look in his eyes proved he didn’t think he did.

She shook her head, seething. “No, of course you don’t.” Her sarcasm infused each word. “An accomplished big-city doctor like yourself wouldn’t need help from an under-educated society girl like me.”

He glared at her, his jaw twitching. “Then we are agreed.”

He said nothing more as they boarded the buggy and started toward town. He sat silently, clenching the reins.

She sat stiffly beside him, clenching her teeth, her hands, and every clenchable muscle in her body. They rode for miles without a word until Maddie spied the glimmer of the lake in the distance. It was a welcome relief. Another few uncomfortable minutes and she’d be home.

“Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be more flexible,” Jace offered suddenly, clearing his throat.

She blinked, turning to face him. He stared straight ahead as he drove.

“I need their trust.”

Maddie nodded at the simple concession before turning away from him, determined to hide her tiny—but admittedly triumphant—smile. As absurd as it was, Jace also needed Madeline Sutter, the town pariah, to help win over the very people who shunned her.

As Caroline had predicted, the weather was glorious for the picnic the following weekend. A mild breeze cooled Maddie’s flush of anxiety as guests assembled on the freshly manicured lawns of the Strope house. Following light refreshments, the party would journey the short distance to the picnic grove at noon.

Maddie’s grip on Jace’s arm tightened as more guests arrived. Amelia hurried off to greet Abigail and Jim Pike. Behind them Daniel arrived, escorting the pretty Lucinda and his cousins, Gertrude and Dolly. Matthew Webster lagged closely behind. Henry Whalen and Bitsy Wager stood nearby, nibbling on cookies and chatting together like the life-long friends they were.

Maddie sipped her lemonade, summoning her strength to face these people who’d rather not face her. She turned her focus to the conversation between Jace and Lester until Amelia returned.

“Everyone has arrived, so we’ll depart as soon as the food hampers and linens are packed in the wagon,” Amelia said.

Maddie scanned the group of twenty or so mulling about the property. “Is this really everyone, Amelia? Somehow I thought there would be more guests today.”

Amelia looked around.

“No, Mads, this is it…and then some.” She frowned in the direction of Matthew Webster. “Matthew wasn’t officially invited, of course, but I should have expected he’d follow Dolly regardless.” She shrugged off her obvious displeasure. “In any event, we’re a small party today.”

“A young party,” Lester chimed in. “No one over the age of thirty is allowed to join us.”

Amelia patted his arm with patient indulgence. “Making wedding arrangements with our parents has been a bit of a trial.”

“A nightmare,” Lester corrected.

“We decided a picnic with our peers would be more relaxing.”

Lester raised his mug of beer. “And more fun.”

Maddie smiled, relieved by the temporary reprieve from the company of Pastor Hogle and the other more hostile residents of the town. Exhaling a breath, she allowed the tension to drain from her shoulders. A comfortable calmness settled in its place.

When she and Jace had arrived earlier, she’d been a tangle of nerves. Jace had led her up the stone staircase and into the wolves’ den with his hand planted firmly on hers. He’d given her fingers a squeeze and said, “I’ll be the doting fiancé. You relax and try to have fun.”

So far, he’d been true to his word. The only time he’d left her side was when he’d fetched her lemonade. She clung to him like an extra appendage as they strolled amid the unfriendly faces and whispers. Maddie’s greeting to the passing Hogle sisters was soundly snubbed. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Ignoring the slight, Jace engaged her in meaningless chitchat meant to put her at ease. While she appreciated the effort, she couldn’t help feeling ashamed. Jace’s association with her could damage his career, whether he chose to admit it or not.

He had risked his reputation by playing her fiancé, and in doing so, he had made a fool’s bargain. He trusted Maddie to give him information that might help others. But all the while she had intended to keep the real truth of her recovery to herself.

Strangely, if ever she had the courage to tell someone her secret, she supposed that someone would be Jace—the one person, aside from herself, for whom the disclosure would cause the most damage. Jace based his life on proven scientific theory, and Maddie’s gift defied everything he believed in.

If only things could be different.

Her sideways glance lingered as she studied his profile. His hair curled at his collar, needing a trim, but the effortless style enhanced his appeal. The fitted tweed coat complemented the wide breadth of his shoulders. Muscle flexed in the arm she held. The memory of his touch, the press of his hard body against hers, roused a desire she couldn’t ignore. His heat penetrated her glove, seeping through her fingers and weakening her knees.

This mad attraction consumed her mind and body. Even when she was angry at him, she wanted him. She nestled into the spicy scent of him. Despite all evidence to the contrary, she suddenly felt like the luckiest woman there.

Amelia and Lester mingled with them in between attending to their duties as party hosts. Other than that, Maddie and Jace kept to themselves, which was where everyone seemed content to leave them. Oddly, she didn’t mind. She wasn’t alone, and she relished the difference it made to have someone at her side.