functional room. Beth looked with longing at the rocker. She could easily imagine herself curled up in it many an evening after a day of hard work, reading anything that didn’t pertain to subjects medical. Indeed, after years spent with her nose buried in topics addressing body parts and noxious diseases, she longed for a stirring tale of action and adventure or of lands far away.
First things first, though. Her belongings must be put away in the bureau, her comb and hairbrush laid out, her books set in place on the small bedside table. Then, with Millie’s permission, she wanted to explore the rest of the house. Perhaps Emily might even enjoy coming along.
A half hour later, Beth walked into the kitchen. Millie was stooped over the sink, gasping for breath.
Beth hurried to her. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
Sliding an arm about her shoulders, Beth helped Millie to straighten, then gently guided her to a kitchen chair. “Sit, now. You look as white as a sheet.”
Millie all but fell into the chair. Her brow beaded with sweat; her breath came in sharp, shallow gulps. Beth watched her for a few minutes and, when Millie didn’t improve, decided it was time to get her to bed.
“Can you walk to my bedroom if I help you?” she asked. “It’s not far.”
“I . . . I’ll be . . . all right.” Millie motioned weakly. “This’ll . . . pass. It always does.”
Even as she spoke, her color began to return, her breathing to improve. “See? I’m feeling better . . . already.”
“Maybe so. Still, I’m not convinced this is as insignificant as you pretend it to be.”
Millie shrugged. “It’s most likely my heart. I had the rheumatic fever as a girl, you know.”
“Did you now?”
Her suspicions rising even higher, Beth took one of Millie’s hands. Sure enough, the nail beds were blue, the tips of the fingers bulbous—a sure sign of chronic heart trouble. An uneasy feeling filled Beth.
She released Millie’s hand. “Well, that might well explain your episodes. Have you seen Doc about them?”
Millie’s mouth tightened with determination. “No. I can live with this. No sense bothering him when there’s nothing he can do about it anyway.”
“Actually, there are a few drugs available that might help you a lot. One’s called digitalis, from the foxglove plant. It helps to strengthen the heart.”
“Do tell?” Millie cocked her head in sudden interest. “Well, maybe then I will pay Doc—or you, if you’ll have me—a little visit. What with Emily growing and getting more active, I can use all the heart strengthening I can muster.”“We could go today. I’m sure Doc would see you, even if it is a Saturday.”
Millie shook her head. “Leave the poor man be. He needs his days off. I’ve waited this long. I can wait until Monday.
”Beth wasn’t so sure of that. She feared Millie’s heart was failing and her lungs beginning to fill with fluid for her to have such a violent attack with only a minimal increase in activity.
“Well, I suppose if you’re going to insist on being so bullheaded about this,” Beth said, staring sternly down at Millie, “I could see if Noah has better success in getting you to Doc’s today. Of course, I hate to bother him, when I’m available, and—”
“No! Don’t tell Noah.” Once more, the color drained from Millie’s face. “He doesn’t know about my spells, and I don’t want him to. He has enough to bear right now without adding this.”
Seeing Millie’s look of panic, Beth wondered what else she strove so mightily to protect Noah from. Anger rose in Beth. Perhaps Noah was a wee bit too caught up in his own misery to see what was going on around him.
“Well, I can’t promise never to tell Noah,” Beth said, laying a hand on Millie’s shoulder, “but, like you said, no sense upsetting him, at least until we know more about what’s causing your spells.”
“If you’re going to be my doctor”—Millie’s eyes narrowed
First things first, though. Her belongings must be put away in the bureau, her comb and hairbrush laid out, her books set in place on the small bedside table. Then, with Millie’s permission, she wanted to explore the rest of the house. Perhaps Emily might even enjoy coming along.
A half hour later, Beth walked into the kitchen. Millie was stooped over the sink, gasping for breath.
Beth hurried to her. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
Sliding an arm about her shoulders, Beth helped Millie to straighten, then gently guided her to a kitchen chair. “Sit, now. You look as white as a sheet.”
Millie all but fell into the chair. Her brow beaded with sweat; her breath came in sharp, shallow gulps. Beth watched her for a few minutes and, when Millie didn’t improve, decided it was time to get her to bed.
“Can you walk to my bedroom if I help you?” she asked. “It’s not far.”
“I . . . I’ll be . . . all right.” Millie motioned weakly. “This’ll . . . pass. It always does.”
Even as she spoke, her color began to return, her breathing to improve. “See? I’m feeling better . . . already.”
“Maybe so. Still, I’m not convinced this is as insignificant as you pretend it to be.”
Millie shrugged. “It’s most likely my heart. I had the rheumatic fever as a girl, you know.”
“Did you now?”
Her suspicions rising even higher, Beth took one of Millie’s hands. Sure enough, the nail beds were blue, the tips of the fingers bulbous—a sure sign of chronic heart trouble. An uneasy feeling filled Beth.
She released Millie’s hand. “Well, that might well explain your episodes. Have you seen Doc about them?”
Millie’s mouth tightened with determination. “No. I can live with this. No sense bothering him when there’s nothing he can do about it anyway.”
“Actually, there are a few drugs available that might help you a lot. One’s called digitalis, from the foxglove plant. It helps to strengthen the heart.”
“Do tell?” Millie cocked her head in sudden interest. “Well, maybe then I will pay Doc—or you, if you’ll have me—a little visit. What with Emily growing and getting more active, I can use all the heart strengthening I can muster.”“We could go today. I’m sure Doc would see you, even if it is a Saturday.”
Millie shook her head. “Leave the poor man be. He needs his days off. I’ve waited this long. I can wait until Monday.
”Beth wasn’t so sure of that. She feared Millie’s heart was failing and her lungs beginning to fill with fluid for her to have such a violent attack with only a minimal increase in activity.
“Well, I suppose if you’re going to insist on being so bullheaded about this,” Beth said, staring sternly down at Millie, “I could see if Noah has better success in getting you to Doc’s today. Of course, I hate to bother him, when I’m available, and—”
“No! Don’t tell Noah.” Once more, the color drained from Millie’s face. “He doesn’t know about my spells, and I don’t want him to. He has enough to bear right now without adding this.”
Seeing Millie’s look of panic, Beth wondered what else she strove so mightily to protect Noah from. Anger rose in Beth. Perhaps Noah was a wee bit too caught up in his own misery to see what was going on around him.
“Well, I can’t promise never to tell Noah,” Beth said, laying a hand on Millie’s shoulder, “but, like you said, no sense upsetting him, at least until we know more about what’s causing your spells.”
“If you’re going to be my doctor”—Millie’s eyes narrowed
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