Annie's Song by Catherine Anderson Page A

stood guard, wringing her hands, wailing, and weeping. That alone was bound to terrify the girl. To make matters worse, James was across the room, wearing a path in the gleaming hardwood floor. For two highly intelligent people, they were sorely lacking in horse sense.
    “Well?” James said impatiently. “Is she, or isn’t she?”
    Enough was enough. Daniel rose from the bed and drew himself to his full height, which was diminutive, at best. Leveling a glare at the distraught couple, he barked, “Out! I haven’t examined her yet and don’t plan to with all of this going on.”
    Edie jumped. James spun to a stop and fixed him with a startled gaze.
    “You’re upsetting the girl,” Daniel said more gently. “Please, step out into the hall. When I’ve come to a determination, I’ll call you back in.”
    “Well,” Edie said with an indignant sputter. “I never!”
    At the moment, Daniel didn’t particularly care if he had offended Edie Trimble. His patience with the woman was in short supply, and it was all he could do not to lace her up one side and down the other.
    Moron or no, Annie still had feelings, and her mother, of all people, should appreciate that. Raped, no less, and Daniel hadn’t been summoned to examine her? Edie had to have known the girl might have had internal bleeding or, barring that, could have contracted an infection. Yet he hadn’t been brought to the house. It was almost as if Edie were afraid to let him examine Annie for fear of what he might conclude.
    Why, that was the question, and it was one for which Daniel had no answer.
    After showing the Trimbles to the door, Daniel sighed and turned back to regard Annie. She watched him nervously, her eyes the size of dinner plates. Trying his best to look harmless, he walked slowly back to the bed. Resuming his seat on the edge of the mattress, he took her hand again and gave it a kindly pat.
    “Do you remember me, Annie?” he asked softly.
    Keeping her gaze fixed on his mouth, she tucked in her chin and rubbed her cheek against the shoulder of her nightgown. Daniel took stock of her finely sculpted features, thinking what a shame it was that a fever had incapacitated her. Though the older Trimble girls were all married and, because of the distances they had to travel, visited home infrequently, Daniel recollected each of their countenances quite clearly.
    Of the four sisters, Annie was without question the loveliest. A person had to look closely to see that, of course. She had an uncommonly thick mane of sable hair that clouded in silky, unruly waves about her Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    face, nearly obscuring what was an almost cameo-perfect visage. Her mother wasted little coin to clothe her, probably because the girl ruined her garments running in the hills. The result was that Annie went about in shapeless, unflattering frocks made of low-quality fabric. To make matters worse, no one had bothered to teach the child any social graces. To be fair to the Trimbles, maybe she was incapable of learning, but Daniel still thought it a shame they hadn’t at least made an effort to give the girl some polish.
    As it was, her manners and behavior were those of a six-year-old.
    “When you were a very small girl, I used to hide candy in my pockets when I came to see you, but I don’t suppose you can remember that.”
    Her gaze flicked to the breast pocket of his jacket. Grasping the lapel, Daniel turned the inner compartment out, glad that he always carried treats to win over his younger patients. Leaning forward slightly, he released his hold on her small hand and said, “Go ahead. Help yourself.”
    Her finely arched brows drew together in a frown. Instead of reaching for the candy, she placed a palm over her abdomen and shook her head slightly.
    “Not in the mood for a sweet, hmm?” Taking care not to make any sudden moves, Daniel drew back the quilt and placed a hand beside hers on her