With Every Breath (28 page)

“There’s nothing to it,” Nurse Ackerman said. “You just write the data on the chart as Dr. Schrader dictates it to you. Not much different from what you’ve already been doing for Dr. Kendall, just a lot more detail.”

And the lifeless body of her friend only a few feet away.

Trevor needed to learn why Hannah had died, and the autopsy had to be done quickly. They needed to understand exactly what had failed, and why Hannah’s blood looked good and yet she still died.

She straightened her back in resolve. “I can do it.”

* * * *

The final stages of tuberculosis were never easy, nor was it possible to predict how long it would last. Trevor had already been at Mrs. Kendall’s bedside for three days, and it could easily be another three before it was finally over. Her hair had come undone from the tidy coronet she’d worn for decades. Her daughter had tried to comb the scraggly mess into some semblance of order this morning, but she was crying too hard to have much success.

A handful of the old servants from Senator Campbell’s house came to pay their respects. Trevor had a generous supply of cotton masks he handed each of them before he allowed them through the door.

“Don’t get too close,” he cautioned. “Even though she’s sleeping, a fit of coughing may seize her and be dangerous for you.”

On the third day, a batch of messages from Nurse Ackerman was delivered. Hannah Wexler died, and two more were likely to pass within the next week. Trevor stood, preparing to leave. Kate was going to need help with this. She had cracked when Ephraim Montgomery died, and she barely knew the man. Hannah’s death was going to hit her hard.

It hit
him
hard. Patient 27F had good blood. Her lungs were in decent condition, but one of her organs must have failed. The note indicated Dr. Schrader would be performing the autopsy, so he would soon learn exactly what had brought her down.

His lips thinned as he reached for his coat. This was why he’d warned Kate not to become friendly with the patients. She was too tenderhearted for this sort of work, and she would need someone to comfort her. If he hurried, he could get to the hospital within the hour and be back at Mrs. Kendall’s side by lunchtime.

His hand stilled. Kate could not be his responsibility anymore. He wanted to hold her as she cried and prop her up until she was ready to rejoin the living. He sought her out last spring because she was fierce and relentless; he never knew how soft she was beneath that fiery exterior.

It made him love her all the more.

For all he knew, she was already gone from the hospital, and a replacement had been hired. He set his coat over the back of the chair and resumed his seat beside Mrs. Kendall, listening to the rattle in her lungs and wishing he were a better doctor.

* * * *

Kate blanched at the sight of Hannah’s dead body stretched out on the metal autopsy table. Hannah’s face was contorted in a grimace of pain, her naked skin purple, her lips blue.
Oh, sweet Jesus, please let me have the strength to do
this
.

She accepted the paper forms from Dr. Schrader, his kindly face giving her a sympathetic smile. He thanked her for filling in and assured her she didn’t need to watch as he performed the autopsy, but merely record his notes.

Dr. Schrader gave her a dab of camphor to rub under her nose, which was supposed to mask the smell. It didn’t work. She kept her eyes averted during the procedure, but the clicking of instruments and the terrible stench never let her forget exactly where she was. She made it through the two-hour procedure without fainting or crying, which was more than she could say for when Ephraim Montgomery died.

She ran outside when it was over, sucking in huge gulps of fresh air and wondering how long the smell would linger in her hair and clothes. Clinging to the banister on the front steps of the hospital, the magnitude of what she just did sank in. She wanted to rush home and take a bath and get the stench off her, but several applicants were coming today to interview for her job, and she needed to be there. It hurt just thinking about turning her position over to someone else. Although it was the most frustrating, challenging, and grueling job she’d ever had, still she loved it here.

A whimper at her feet grabbed her attention. The golden-haired dog looked up at her.

“Hello, Princess.” Kate sank onto the steps and rubbed the dog behind both ears. The dog whimpered again and nudged closer to Kate. “I’m okay, Princess.”

How strange that this mangy old mutt was offering her comfort, but she must have sensed Kate’s distress. In the aftermath of the autopsy, her legs trembled and she couldn’t get the smell out of her nose. But soon a sense of accomplishment began replacing the fear. Kate looked up at the hospital, looming five stories above her, a grand building filled with people who did
such heroic work every day. Kate never imagined she’d have the fortitude to stand a few feet away while an autopsy was performed. She never wanted to do it again, but she hadn’t given in to the impulse to run away. Trevor would be proud of her.

She pushed the thought away. It was going to be hard, but she needed to train herself to quit thinking about Trevor.

Princess laid her head on Kate’s lap. How nice the weight of the dog felt. After being starved of physical affection for so many years, it was soothing to have someone to cuddle with, even if it was only a dog.

“I wish I could take you home with me.” But a boardinghouse was no place for a dog, and she had an applicant coming for an interview within the hour. She marched up the staircase, determined to see this through.

Tick was waiting for her when she entered the clinic. “You survived?”

The worry on his face got to her, and she reached out to hug him, even though he was in uniform and she wasn’t supposed to. “I’m still alive, yes.”

Which was more than she could say for the first job applicant. Julius Hessman was a painfully thin man with a degree in mathematics and five years of experience as an actuary for the pension bureau. He had the mathematical ability to perform the job, but the way he clasped his hands as if he were reluctant to touch anything made her worry he might not be a good match.

“I would be required to share an office?” he asked as he hovered in the doorway of her office.

“Yes, but I can attest that Dr. Kendall is very professional. He will not disturb your concentration.”

It was hard to coax Julius into the office. He fiddled with his tie and glanced at all four corners of the ceiling, the surface of both desks, and all along the filing cabinets. His mouth was
pursed in disapproval. “I’m very particular about my space. This may be difficult for me.”

A lifetime of serving demanding customers at her mother’s boardinghouse made it easy for Kate to placate him.

“Perhaps you would be more comfortable at the table behind the nurses’ station? It’s where we take our meals and gather for meetings. We can discuss the position out there if you would be more comfortable.”

Julius backed out of her office and followed her to the staff table. A few of the patients were playing checkers in the sitting area and watched the strange man with curiosity.

Kate outlined the position for him. When she tried to ask him about his work at the Pension Bureau, Julius was reluctant to talk. He set a stack of reports on the table and slid them toward her with a slender finger. “Examples of my reports,” he said. “I prefer to let my work speak for itself.”

This man was a walking disaster. When she asked if he had any questions, he looked around the space with trepidation and asked if this table was where the staff ate their meals.

“Yes, the hospital provides our lunch, and the food is excellent. We eat all our meals here.”

“I don’t like to hear other people chew,” Julius said delicately.

From down the hallway Tick struggled to cover his laughter with a cough. Even some of the patients in the sitting area were trying not to laugh.

“I see,” Kate said in a soothing tone. “Would you excuse me? Private Norton seems to be choking on something.”

She kept a straight face until she was able to show Mr. Hessman out the door. An orderly arrived with the day’s mail at the same time, and Kate flipped through the letters, scanning the return addresses and holding her breath against another
anonymous, hate-filled letter. Her gaze landed on a bold scrawl in the corner of an envelope, and she gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Tick asked, moving to her side. Kate’s mind was racing so fast it was hard to answer him.

“Mark Twain wrote us back!”

It was hard to believe, but the letter was there in her hands. Everyone within the range of her voice clustered around, eager to see the letter. Leonard Wilkes wheezed as he pushed himself to his feet and staggered over. Kate’s fingers trembled while opening the envelope and reading it to the group. It was impossible not to laugh as she read. Mr. Twain did indeed plan to write another novel featuring Tom Sawyer, and he would happily send them an autographed copy upon publication.

A smile spread across her face until she remembered that Hannah Wexler, the one who so eagerly awaited any book by Mark Twain, wasn’t here to celebrate the news. The laughter fled as a wave of grief settled over her.

* * * *

Kate remained in the sitting area to wait for the next job applicant. Nurse Ackerman wasn’t available to welcome him, as Blanche Groveland was continuing to deteriorate, and one of the men was critically ill as well.

Would it be possible for three people to die in a single day? On her first day, Trevor warned her that all the patients in the ward would be dead within a year. So many of the patients seemed to be hobbling along fine, and she hadn’t believed him. She should have.

She rested her forehead in the palm of her hand and prayed the next applicant would be suitable for the position. Philip Walsh was much older and had plenty of experience at the Naval Hospital, so hopefully he would be capable of listening to people chew without suffering a case of the vapors.

The door opened, and a handsome gentleman strode through the door. Kate rose to greet the next applicant, but when she saw the man’s face, she gasped. He looked so much like Trevor it took her breath away.

“I’m looking for Trevor McDonough,” the man announced in a heavy Scottish brogue. “Excuse me,” he amended. “I believe he’s calling himself Trevor
Kendall
these days. Please fetch him for me.”

It had to be Trevor’s father. He had the same lean face and firm, unsmiling mouth. Aside from the threads of silver in his dark hair, it was as if she were staring at Trevor himself.

“I’m sorry, but he isn’t here,” she finally replied.

The older man looked around the clinic, stepping forward to peer around the corner into the staff area and behind the nurses’ station. “Are you certain? The boy likes to avoid me when he can, but he must be here somewhere. I’ve already confirmed he’s not at his home.”

Nurse Ackerman came hustling into the front to grab a file from her desk. “You’re looking for the doctor?” she asked. “He’s still over with Mrs. Kendall, and we aren’t sure when he’ll be back. Kate can send a message to him if you need.”

A round of coughing came from the women’s ward, and Nurse Ackerman hurried back.

Mr. McDonough looked amused. “He still sees old Mrs. Kendall then? The boy always liked mingling with the servants. I gather some things never change.” Then a transformation came over his face, and his dark eyes zeroed in on her, noting her red hair. “Kate? You wouldn’t be Kate Norton, would you?”

She felt a niggling sense of unease. How would he know that? “That was my maiden name. I’m Kate Livingston now.”

A grin spread across the man’s face. It was disconcerting to see an identical dimple to Trevor’s appear on the older man’s cheek.
“Well, well,” he drawled. “The famous Kate, the redheaded genius who kept Trevor on his toes all those years in school.”

“I did my best.”

“Excellent. He needed someone like you to give him a little competition.” Mr. McDonough began strolling down the aisle of the clinic as if he owned the place. He wore a handsome set of clothes with a fine wool jacket that looked tailored to fit him to perfection. A ruby-encrusted gold watch was pinned to his vest.

“So Trevor is in charge of the entire floor of this hospital, I take it?” Mr. McDonough scanned the walls and the furniture. He went to a nearby window and looked outside. “Very fine view.” When he started walking down the hallway toward the wards, Kate stepped in front of him.

“What can I do for you, sir?” she asked.

“You can fetch my son. I’m sure he’s hiding here somewhere.”

Kate didn’t want him in the wards. “Private Norton,” she called, “I need help.”

Tick quickly appeared in the hallway, blocking Mr. McDonough’s advance. “This is a private clinic, sir.”

“Yes, paid for by money I provided my son. It looks as though the boy has done very well for himself.” It irked her that he called Trevor a boy. Trevor was one of the finest men she’d ever met.

Tick didn’t back down. “This clinic is not open to members of the public. You’ll have to return with Dr. Kendall if you want access to the floor.” Tick rested his hand on the service revolver strapped to his hip, which seemed to amuse the older man.

“Easy, lad. I merely wish to see what my money paid for.” He turned back to Kate. “Now, tell me how I may get in contact with my son. I’ve come all the way from Scotland, and our meeting is long overdue.”

“If you would like to leave a message,” Kate said, “I’ll be sure that he receives it.”

A hint of a smile passed over the older man’s mouth, but it didn’t linger long. “Tell him I won’t allow him to continue to ignore me.”

* * * *

Trevor wasn’t going to welcome her presence at Mrs. Kendall’s bedside, but he needed to know about his father’s sudden appearance at the hospital. Could it be true that the funding for the hospital came from the elder McDonough? Something about his presence made her uneasy. What kind of man would send his son to another continent to be raised? Trevor seemed to have no affection for the man.
“I despise my
father and I want nothing to do with him,”
he’d told her. Despise him enough to drop his given name and take another from a housekeeper who had been kind to him?