While Love Stirs (31 page)

“They don’t care!” a man in the back shouted.

“Why don’t you go home?” another joined in. “You’re not wanted!”

Charlotte took a step back. Kindness wasn’t winning them over.

“You may not wish to attend the lectures, but others in your fine city may. All I ask is that you let them pass without incident.” She locked eyes with the woman in front. “Agreed?”

“This is a peaceful demonstration.” The woman emphasized the word
peaceful
loud enough for all to hear. “You’ll have no problems from us.”

Charlotte nodded. “Thank you.”

Reluctantly the group parted to admit her, but her stomach knotted at the thought of any guests attempting to breach the line.

“There you are!” Molly set a bunch of carrots on the worktable.
“I think everything is ready except for getting the meat out of the icebox.”

“Thank you, Molly.” She slipped into her apron. “But I’m not sure anyone will come as long as those protestors are out there.”

Lewis joined her. “They’ll come. You’ll see.”

Half an hour later, no one had stepped through the doors. Charlotte glanced up from the chicken she was cutting to the clock on the wall. Five minutes. Still no guests.

“Charlotte, look. You must have made quite an impression earlier today.”

A smile bloomed on her face as a row of nurses, still wearing their blue dresses, white starched aprons, and white caps marched down the street. The group outside parted to admit them, and once they entered, a few other ladies followed their ranks. The crowd was small—the smallest yet—but she’d give them the best lecture she possibly could.

Then, maybe tomorrow, news would spread and this whole protest affair would be over.

Even though he no longer needed to check on Mrs. Phillips every day, Joel still made his daily trek to the mansion. Today he was coming much later than usual. His stomach growled in protest as he parked his motorcar. Too bad Charlotte was away or he’d sneak into the kitchen in hopes of nabbing some of her delicious concoctions.

He found Mrs. Phillips in the drawing room at her desk, and Tessa sat curled on the divan, rehearsing her lines.

Mrs. Phillips looked up from her work. “Good evening, Doctor. I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I apologize for being so late. It was a busy day.” He set his medical bag down on a table, opened it, and removed his stethoscope. “How are you feeling?”

“Excellent. Which is good, since Tessa’s play is only a few days away.”

“And you don’t want to use a wheelchair to attend, right?”

“That, sir, is a fact.”

He pressed the stethoscope’s diaphragm against her chest and listened to the steady drumming of her heart. “I worry you may tire.”

“I’ll be fine.” She shook her finger in his direction. “And if anyone is tired around here, it’s you. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“I’m afraid I was up late last night delivering a set of twins, and before you ask, the mother and babies are doing well. Here. Squeeze my fingers.” He held up two fingers on each hand and she gripped them. The strength of her left hand had nearly reached that of the right. “Mrs. Phillips, I do believe you’re right. You are in excellent condition considering all you’ve been through.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “So perhaps it’s time to dismiss Nurse Pierce.”

He grinned. “Not quite yet.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “Very well. I shall endure.”

“There’s the spirit.” He dropped his stethoscope back into his bag.

Tessa set down her script. “Aren’t you going to let him see the telegram from Charlotte?”

The bag’s latch clicked. Fear slid up his spine. Why would she send a telegram? “Is there a problem?”

“No, she sent the telegram because I asked her to, given the gas company’s situation in Red Wing.” She handed over the half sheet of paper with “Western Union Telegraph Company” printed in block letters across the top.

All is well. Gas co. protestors block meeting. Few attendees.

His fear ebbed, but unease still plagued his thoughts. Even though she’d said, “All is well,” he was certain she’d been disappointed by the low turnout to her demonstration. He’d seen her previous crowds, and having only a handful attend would irritate
her. And if she’d been rankled, he predicted she’d have no problem approaching the protestors and asking them to leave.

He’d seen patients in the hospital who’d been present at a strike when things got out of hand—both men and women. Surely Charlotte had enough sense to stay out of that kind of fray.

Then again, this was Charlotte, and trouble seemed drawn to the Gregory sisters like chicken pox to a five-year-old.

Given his tenuous position at the hospital, he really shouldn’t take tomorrow off and go see her, but maybe if he called in a few favors, he could get someone to cover for him.

“Enough is enough!” Charlotte tossed her spoon down on the worktable as the last bit of a splattered tomato slid down the window of the hardware store door—a rotten tomato, no doubt. Why were they acting like this now when yesterday there’d been no trouble?

She turned to her audience of fifteen women, half of whom were nurses. “I’m sorry, but I need to go speak to our outside visitors for a moment.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Molly held up her hands and shooed her back. “Y’all keep cookin’, and I’ll take care of the hooligans.”

Charlotte motioned for Lewis to go with Molly while she continued with the demonstration.

She pulled the roasted potatoes from the oven and poked them with a fork. When the fork came out of the potato wedges easily, she declared them done and scooped them onto a waiting platter. “Ladies, notice how easy the cleanup is with the gas stove. A simple wipedown is all the enameled surface will require. No more blacking a stove or removing ashes.”

The hardware store’s door swung open and Lewis stuck his head inside. “Charlotte, come quick! It’s Molly!”

Her heart grabbed. She raced through the smattering of chairs and burst through the door. She found Molly on the ground, leaning
against a light pole, a hand clutching her chest. Rushing to Molly’s side, she knelt beside her companion. Molly’s face was pale, and sweat beaded on her upper lip.

“Molly, what’s wrong? What is it?” She turned to call for a nurse and gasped. “Joel, where did you come from?”

“I just arrived. I was worried about you.” He squatted beside Molly, whipped open his medical bag, and withdrew his stethoscope.

Relief flooded over Charlotte as she reached for Molly’s hand.

“Miss Molly, take slow, deep breaths.” Joel listened for only a short time before grabbing a small vial from his bag. “I’m going to put this under your tongue. It will ease the pain.”

One of the nurses from inside knelt beside them. Joel turned to her. “I’m Dr. Joel Brooks from Saint Paul. Does this city have an ambulance?”

“Yes, Doctor. I’ll send for it right away.”

Charlotte studied Molly, and the anger that had been churning inside her all day poured out. She jumped to her feet and faced the crowd. “Are you happy now? Look what you’ve done. We’re not responsible for your city’s problems with the gas company. Why don’t you speak with your mayor and leave us alone?”

Something struck the back of her head, and red-hot pain exploded inside her. It lasted for only a second before the crowd of protestors in front of her became a dizzy blur and her legs gave out.

36

Joel caught a glimpse of a youth from the corner of his eye only seconds before the boy threw the stone. “Charlotte!”

Powerless, he watched as the stone hit Charlotte’s head. Thank goodness the man beside Charlotte caught her as she fell. Everything in him wanted to rush to her side, but his duty was to the patient who needed him most, and right now that was Miss Molly.

“Is she bleeding?” he called out to the gangly young man holding Charlotte.

“No, but there’s a big lump on her head.”

“Go.” Miss Molly touched his arm. “I’m not going anywhere at the moment.”

“I’ll be right back.” He nodded to the nurse beside him and hurried to Charlotte. The young man stepped aside, and Joel knelt beside her.

Charlotte’s eyelashes fluttered. “Joel?”

Horses pounded up the street, pulling the ambulance wagon. She started to sit up, but Joel pressed her back. “Easy. Lie still.”

“What happened? And why are you here?”

“What do you remember?”

Her eyes widened and she struggled to sit up. “Molly!”

Against his better judgment, he helped her to an upright position. She moaned and gingerly probed her head.

“Charlotte.” He held her shoulders. “I need to get back to Molly, but I need you to promise you won’t get up and move around yet. This man is going to stay with you until I can get the nurse over here.”

She followed his line of sight. “Lewis?”

Joel didn’t have time to ask who Lewis was and how she knew him, but he could see the concern in the young man’s eyes, so he was certain he and Charlotte were acquainted in some way. Cousins, maybe?

Leaving Charlotte propped against the young man’s chest, he returned to help get Molly in the ambulance. Once she was loaded onto a stretcher, the driver and a volunteer from the crowd carried her to the ambulance, where the doctor who’d come from the hospital began to assess her condition.

“Do you want us to come back for her?” the driver asked, nodding his head toward Charlotte.

Joel shook his head as he hurried away. “No, I’ve got my motorcar. I’ll bring her.” When he reached Charlotte, he again squatted before her. “Your turn.”

“For what?” Her brow scrunched.

He cupped her cheek. Confusion was to be expected following a concussion. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“I am not. I have food in the oven.”

He chuckled and scooped her into his arms. “Someone else can take it out.”

“I don’t like to be bossed around, you know.” Her head fell against his shoulder.

“In the future, I’ll try to remember that.”

“You’d better.”

“Charlotte,” the lanky young man called after her, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Jealousy pricking him, Joel frowned and set Charlotte down on the front seat of his Model T.

He turned toward the young man. “Molly and Charlotte will
need their rest tonight. Why don’t you wait to see the ladies until the morning?”

There, that ought to handle him—cousin or not.

Opening her eyes, Charlotte startled. Where was she?

Moonlight drenched the white sheets and blankets on her bed. Beside her, Joel sat in a straight-back chair with his arms crossed and his head drooping against his chest. Her heart swelled.

“Joel?” She reached out and her fingertips brushed the stubble on his cheek.

He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes like a sleepy toddler. “Hey, you’re awake.” He kept his voice low. “Are you in pain?”

“Dull ache.”

“That’s to be expected.” He smoothed her mussed hair, his touch heartbreakingly tender.

“How’s Molly?” She shifted, trying to lift her head.

He pointed to the bed next to her. “She’s resting comfortably.”

“Will she be all right?”

“Yes, you both will.” He took her hand in his own and squeezed it. “She’ll need to rest more often and carry some of those pills I gave her. I’m not sure she can continue to travel with you. I’m sorry.”

“As long as she’s okay.” Tears clouded her eyes. “I’m glad you came when you did.”

“So am I.” His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand.

“You should go find a bed. This hospital has nurses.” Her words came out slurred, and her heavy lids closed against her will. Sleep began to reel her in. “You didn’t need to stay with me.”

He kissed her forehead. “I couldn’t leave the woman I love.”

Warmth swept from her head to her toes. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t break sleep’s hold. If this was another one of those delicious dreams, it was the best one yet.

Today was the day all her dreams came true. Tessa almost bounced up the stairs to the theater office. Well, maybe it wasn’t all of her dreams, especially since it was only a full dress rehearsal, but it was very close to the real thing.

Tomorrow night she’d step onto the stage, and Miss Walker would have nothing to hold over her head any longer. Tessa still didn’t have a plan as to how she’d handle the whole embezzlement situation, but hopefully Dr. Brooks had come up with some ideas for her. Tapping into his brain was a stroke of genius. When Hannah and Charlotte inevitably found out about this whole affair, she’d be able to say she did speak with an adult about it. Sure, it might get Dr. Brooks in a bit of trouble with Charlotte, but with a gift of a few chocolates and some flowers, she’d soon forgive him.

With a skip in her step, she whistled as she walked. Nothing could possibly ruin this day.

She opened the office door and paused. Where was Miss Walker? Tessa glanced at the wall clock and saw it was five past nine. In the time she’d been working here, Miss Walker did not deviate from her morning routine—she was at her desk by 9:00, went to lunch at 11:30, took a break at 2:45, and left for home by 5:00. Perhaps she was ill?

“Ah, Miss Gregory, there you are.” Mr. Jurgenson set a pile of papers on the desk. “Miss Walker phoned in sick today. She said you could handle everything.”

Tessa grinned. This day just kept getting better.

“But that means you’ll have to stay until five o’clock. She said that shouldn’t be a problem for you. Will it?”

Ooooh, Miss Walker knew very well it was a problem. Had she done this on purpose? There was no way Tessa could be late to the dress rehearsal, but it started at three o’clock. If she told Mr. Jurgenson she couldn’t stay until five, he’d most likely want to know why, and she certainly couldn’t tell him.

She bit her lip. Her appearance in the play was brief. If she took her lunch late, maybe she could time it to be in the theater for her
scenes and still be back in the office to finish the day, with no one the wiser. It would require some quick changes, but with a little luck and a lot of prayer, she could pull it off. Besides, being alone in the office would give her an opportunity to practice her newly acquired detective skills.

Offering him her warmest smile, she walked to Miss Walker’s desk. “I’ve got it all covered, Mr. Jurgenson. Don’t worry about a thing.”