Yesterday's Roses (8 page)

“Wherever did you find such a stellar example of the medical profession?” asked Hallie, her voice becoming muffled as she leaned forward and thrust her head deeper into the confines of the cupboard.

“Why, he was one of Dr. Barnes's protégés.”

“I should have guessed,” came Hallie's barely audible reply.

Davinia watched Hallie for several seconds, her intelligent brown eyes glowing with frank curiosity behind the lenses of her spectacles. “Most women find him charming.”

“Ow!” yelped Hallie as her head made bruising contact with the top shelf of the cabinet. She emerged red-faced, with cobwebs clinging to her hair, and gingerly prodded the back of her head.

“Dr. Barnes? Charming? Ha! Not likely.”

“Of course not Dr. Barnes. I was referring to Jake Parrish.”

“Oh,
him
. Well, he was conceited enough to mention something along those lines,” mumbled Hallie, still rubbing her head as she turned to survey the dismally inadequate sum of the infirmary's medical supplies. Things were even worse than she had imagined. “Personally, I found him about as charming as an epidemic of smallpox.”

Davinia gave a raucous hoot of laughter. “If that were true, then every woman in San Francisco between the ages of six and sixty would be rushing to contract the disease.”

“I guess
some
women are silly enough to have their heads turned by that handsome face of his,” Hallie scoffed.

“So you did notice that much, huh? Did you by any chance get a look at that delicious backside of his? Always did have an eye for—”

“Davinia! Surely you know that it's improper to discuss a man's anatomy. Especially that below the waist,” exclaimed Hallie, blushing furiously.

“Hell and damnation, Hallie! Stop carrying on like an old maid! You're a doctor. I would think you would be familiar with all of a man's parts—the ones below the belt included. Besides, where's the sin in admiring one of the Lord's more interesting creations? Take my John, God rest his soul, for example. That man had one of the finest bottoms this side of heaven.”

“Davinia, please!” Hallie groaned. “I don't care to discuss Jake Parrish or his assorted parts, thank you.”

Davinia threw up her hands in exasperation. “Oh, all right. If you're going to be such a priss about it, we'll change the subject. Too bad, though. The conversation was just getting interesting. I think it's only fair to warn you that I always speak my piece and I don't mince words. Never could abide folks who shilly-shally around and won't say what's on their mind.”

She peered at Hallie suspiciously. “You're not a shillyshally er, are you?”

“Of course not!”

Davinia looked dubious, but sighed, “In that case, we should get on well enough.”

The two women worked in companionable silence for the next half hour, vigorously scrubbing down the grimy countertops and chasing the dust balls from the corners.

“Davinia?”

Davinia poked her head up from beneath the rickety old table that served as an examination couch, her glasses dangling precariously near the end of her nose.

“What happened to Serena?”

The question hung heavily in the air for several seconds while Davinia removed her spectacles and slowly cleaned the lenses with a corner of her apron. Balancing them back on the bridge of her nose, she finally replied, “I'm surprised you didn't ask that question sooner.”

Hallie shrugged. “I was hoping I wouldn't have to.”

Crossing her legs comfortably beneath her skirts and settling back against the table's leg, Davinia mused, “I guess you have a right to know, seein' as how you're Serena Parrish's doctor now.”

Hallie opened her mouth to protest the dubious honor, but Davinia cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“No. I know what you're going to say. What you haven't yet realized is that Serena has chosen you and what Serena wants, Jake makes sure she gets.”

“Mr. Parrish didn't strike me as a particularly accommodating husband. At least not one who would go out of his way to satisfy his wife's whims,” Hallie remarked incredulously.

Davinia fixed Hallie with a knowing look. “That's because you don't know him. When those two were first married, Jake vowed to anyone who would listen that he would never deny Serena anything her heart desired.”

She paused to chuckle. “Never saw a man so besotted in my life. Of course, everyone else loved Serena too. Not only was she eye-poppin' pretty, she had that rare knack of charming everyone she met. Jake used to brag that only the best of everything was good enough for his wife and he set about to provide it.”

Staring up at Hallie dreamily, she sighed, “You should have seen the two of them together. They were so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at them. Everything was storybook perfect.”

“So, what happened?” asked Hallie, sinking to the floor to sit next to Davinia.

“Jake said no to her.”

Hallie stared at her companion in disbelief. “I can't imagine how saying no to a woman could drive her mad!”

Davinia gave her head a quick shake. “Oh, Serena's not exactly mad. The correct word would be … damaged.”

At Hallie's questioning look, Davinia whispered, “Opium. I've heard rumors that she had degenerated even further and that her downfall involved morphine. Of course, one can't believe everything she hears these days, and the Parrish clan are a notoriously close-mouthed bunch.”

Hallie frowned. “But how does Jake's telling her no have anything to do with all that?”

“He told her no when she demanded that he fight for the Confederacy. You see, Hallie, Serena is from an old, powerful Virginia family. After her family's home was razed by the Union army, her parents found themselves destitute. Somehow they made their way to San Francisco and threw themselves on Jake's mercy.”

“And Jake told them no?” Hallie leaned forward, caught in the seductive web of Davinia's story.

“Of course not! He was most generous with them. Unfortunately, they were bitter people and filled Serena's head full of all sorts of vile nonsense. They so despised Jake for his support of the Northern cause that they turned their daughter against him. Serena used to complain to the Wednesday Afternoon Ladies' Mission Society that her husband loved the Union more than his own wife. Things finally got so bad that Jake was forced to order her parents to leave the Parrish house.”

Davinia paused for a moment, scratching her chin and staring into space reflectively. “How she hated him for that! And when he actually joined the Union army—well, you can imagine the hell that broke loose. It would have been so easy for him to sit out the war, being so far from the fighting and all. But our Jake is a man of strong convictions, and he refused to turn his back while his country was being torn apart. Serena could never forgive him for that. Her problems started shortly thereafter.”

Hallie felt a tidal wave of sadness surge over her. Jake and Serena's life together, which had started out as magically as a fairy tale, should have had a happy ending. Yet it hadn't, and the story only served to strengthen Hallie's belief that “happily ever after” was a myth. She was about to comment on the tragedy of it all when a firm knock at the door brought both women scrambling to their feet.

“What!” shouted Davinia rudely, fighting to readjust her skirts over her wide crinolines. As she gave the recalcitrant garments a final tug, she muttered beneath her breath, “Never could abide people who skulk around outside doors.”

The door flew open with a wide swing and Jake Parrish stepped in, grinning when he saw the women's disheveled appearances. “Ah, if it isn't Davinia Loomis. And as polite as ever, I see. The housekeeper at the Mission House said I would find you ladies here.”

“Well, speak of the devil! If it isn't Mr. Jake Parrish himself,” exclaimed Davinia testily.

“The devil, am I?” laughed Jake, arching an eyebrow in inquiry.

“I can't imagine who else could have gotten into you, considering how shabbily you treated poor Dr. Gardiner.” Davinia placed her hands on her hips and glared at Jake as if he were an errant child of six instead of a man of thirty-three. “I hope you've come to apologize to her.”

Jake fixed his gaze on Hallie, who had picked up a scrub brush and was busily scouring the tabletop. He smiled as he noted the smudge of black grime adorning the end of her nose, making her look a bit like an overgrown chimney sweep. Covered from neck to ankle in a voluminous apron that bore the unmistakable signs of a morning spent doing heavy labor, Hallie was the very picture of a ragamuffin. For some unfathomable reason, Jake found himself charmed by her appearance.

“Well, Jake, we're waiting,” Davinia prodded, tapping her foot impatiently.

Jake shrugged. “Fine. I apologize.”

He didn't miss the way Hallie's hand tightened on the brush or the way she ground the stiff bristles viciously against the table's wooden surface. Undoubtedly she was wishing it was his hide she was stripping, instead of the greasy film of dirt.

Davinia scowled up at him sternly. “You could have at least tried to sound sincere. Now try again, or I'll personally subject you to a lecture on the evils of pride and arrogance.”

Jake groaned theatrically, making Davinia chortle in spite of herself. Sounding much like a chastised schoolboy, he murmured, “Dr. Gardiner, please accept my sincerest apologies for my unforgivable behavior last night. I behaved, as you were quick to point out, like a heartless bastard.”

Hallie dropped the brush with a strangled gasp. Leave it to that unprincipled man to throw her hasty words back in her face.

“A heartless bastard, eh?” chuckled Davinia, fixing Hallie with a speculative look. “You might just work out after all, Dr. Gardiner. Got a temper, do you?”

“Got red hair, doesn't she?” quipped Jake, with maddening sarcasm.

Hallie picked up her brush once more. Oh, how she would love to throw it at His Royal Smugness and watch as it left a stain on his immaculate suit. Lord! What was it with that man anyway? Didn't his clothes ever get even the least bit wrinkled, and did he have to look so damned handsome all the time?

Feigning a put-upon air, Hallie resumed her scrubbing and asked, with a calmness she didn't feel, “Was there a reason for your visit, Mr. Parrish? I assume you didn't come all this way just to bait me.”

“True. As much as I've enjoyed this little tête-à-tête,” he flashed her a wide smile, “my real reason for coming was to discuss a business proposition with you.”

Hallie tore her gaze away from the sight of the beguiling dimple creasing his left cheek. “I can't imagine any business we could have.”

“Can't you?” His gaze locked into her golden eyes, commanding her full attention. “There's the matter of my wife and child.”

“Oh, Lord! Nothing's happened, has it?” choked Hallie, as all sorts of dreadful possibilities raced through her mind.

“Of course not. Don't you think I would have mentioned something like that immediately?”

“Yes … of course.” Hallie let her breath out in a sigh of relief. “So, what exactly do you want?”

“Not what I want. What's my wife wants,” corrected Jake. “And what she wants is—you.”

“Hell and damnation, Jake! Will you stop talking in riddles and get to the point?” Davinia exclaimed, looking from Jake to Hallie and back again. “Never could abide people who don't say what they mean.”

Jake grinned down at Davinia's glowering face. “It's all quite simple, dear lady. Serena has refused to let anyone save Dr. Gardiner tend her. Amazingly enough, she's even asking for the good doctor by name. So I want to engage the doctor to care for my wife until she is fully recovered from giving birth.”

“I already said I would look in on her,” pointed out Hallie, tossing the brush into a bucket with a loud splash and wiping her sodden hands on her apron.

Jake shook his head. “Not good enough. What I propose is that you take up residence at Parrish House until Serena is completely recovered. Celine says that she appears to be running a fever and that she's been bleeding quite a bit. Of course, my wife refuses to let anyone touch her and keeps calling for you.”

Before Hallie could reply, Davinia cut in, “And how much do you intend to pay for Dr. Gardiner's services?”

“I'm sure you'll tell me,” answered Jake with a short laugh.

“You're right about that. Let me see.” Davinia frowned slightly as she thought. Suddenly her eyes brightened with inspiration. “We want this infirmary completely outfitted with new equipment and medicines,”

Hallie choked out, “Davinia—”

“Done,” Jake agreed, ignoring Hallie's grunt of protest. “My carriage is waiting outside. Dr. Gardiner can send for her things later.”

“Not so fast, young man!” snapped Davinia. “I'm not finished yet. All the equipment will be the best to be had, and we want plenty of everything.”

“Is that all?” There was a definite gleam of amusement in Jake's eyes as he watched Hallie's mouth drop open.

She gasped, “I will not be bartered—”

But Davinia cut her off. “AND, a monthly stipend for the support of the infirmary. A generous stipend, mind you.”

“You seem to have a rather high opinion of Dr. Gardiner's worth, Davinia,” Jake said, chuckling. “Why should I pay so much?”

“Supply and demand, dear boy.
Supply and demand
. You taught me all about that principle yourself.”

“Wait a minute!” protested Hallie. “I have no intention of taking up residence at Mr. Parrish's home. How dare you both even suggest such a thing! I'll be happy to visit on a daily basis, but living in is out of the question!”

Jake seemed about to speak, but Davinia silenced him with a commanding wave of her hand. He nodded and smiled, leaning on his cane in a relaxed stance.