with grim resolve—“I expect you to keep my personal health matters private. They’re nobody’s business unless I care to make them that.”
Beth sighed. “Fine. You’re right, of course. I’ll honor your desires. Sooner or later, though, we might have to have a very serious talk about letting Noah in on this.”
“You think this is serious, and you haven’t even examined me yet?
“I’ve seen enough to disturb me.” She walked to the cookstove and took up the teakettle. Moving to the sink, Beth proceeded to pump water into the container.
“Let’s plan on heading down to Doc’s just as soon as the potpie’s out of the oven,” she said, placing the kettle back on the stove to heat. “In the meanwhile, I’ll get Emily ready, bring her downstairs, and we’ll have a cup of tea. By then, the potpie should be done.”
“If you say so.” Millie cast her an exasperated look. “Land sakes, but aren’t you a MacKay through and through? Once you get an idea into your head, there’s no changing you, is there?”
Beth grinned. “No, there isn’t. Especially when it involves someone I care for. And I care about you, Millie Starr.”
Luckily, Doc was not only available but in his office when Beth rang him up. She quickly explained the –situation.
“Millie could probably wait until Monday,” he said, his gruff voice belying his concern, “but I agree she’s gone long enough without treatment as it is. I’m going to have a stern talk with her about keeping this from me, you can be sure. She may well have made a big mistake taking a doctor into her house, if she thought to keep such secrets.”
“I’d like to bring her over in about an hour. Will that be all right with you?”
Doc chuckled softly. “Even if it’s Saturday, I’ve already seen two walk-in patients this morning. I can sure make room for an old friend like Millie.”
“Good. I can help. I’m all moved in.”
“Hopefully, Millie’ll be the last patient for the day. But you’re more than welcome to sit in on the visit.”
“I’d like to. Thanks.”
Beth hung up then realized that Nola Teachout, the central switchboard operator, might have been listening in on their conversation. She cursed her lapse of memory.
In New York City, the central switchboard was comprised of a large group of very busy women. Odds were strong they hadn’t the time to listen in on conversations, much less recognize the speakers or their subjects. Here in Grand View, however, the amount of telephone calls necessitated only one switchboard operator. And that operator knew everyone.
Beth would have to be far more careful whenever she conferred with Doc or a patient over the telephone. The only consolation was that Nola was known to be a discreet woman who generally disdained gossip. Probably the main reason she was hired for the job, Beth supposed, and she offered up a prayer of thanks.
It was almost noon before they made their way to Doc’s office. Millie entered first, with Beth following, guiding Emily’s wheelchair through the door. To her surprise, a woman with a black eye and bruised cheek was just then walking out of Doc’s examining room.
Beth parked Emily’s wheelchair near the window, then turned back to the ebony-haired woman. “Why, Mary Sue Edgerton”—she extended her hand in greeting—“what a pleasant surprise. I haven’t seen you in years and imagined you’d wed some rich, handsome man by now and moved away.”
Mary Sue met her gaze, then averted it, flushing crimson. “It’s Peterson. Mary Sue Peterson. And though I did marry the owner of the Grand View Bank, I didn’t move away.” She shot Doc Childress a quick glance. “Harlow will settle the bill on Monday, if that’s all right with you, Doc.”
He nodded. “That’ll be fine, Mary Sue. Just have a care from here on out, will you? Next time you fall down the stairs, you might not get off with just a black eye and bruised face.”
She managed a taut smile.
Beth sighed. “Fine. You’re right, of course. I’ll honor your desires. Sooner or later, though, we might have to have a very serious talk about letting Noah in on this.”
“You think this is serious, and you haven’t even examined me yet?
“I’ve seen enough to disturb me.” She walked to the cookstove and took up the teakettle. Moving to the sink, Beth proceeded to pump water into the container.
“Let’s plan on heading down to Doc’s just as soon as the potpie’s out of the oven,” she said, placing the kettle back on the stove to heat. “In the meanwhile, I’ll get Emily ready, bring her downstairs, and we’ll have a cup of tea. By then, the potpie should be done.”
“If you say so.” Millie cast her an exasperated look. “Land sakes, but aren’t you a MacKay through and through? Once you get an idea into your head, there’s no changing you, is there?”
Beth grinned. “No, there isn’t. Especially when it involves someone I care for. And I care about you, Millie Starr.”
Luckily, Doc was not only available but in his office when Beth rang him up. She quickly explained the –situation.
“Millie could probably wait until Monday,” he said, his gruff voice belying his concern, “but I agree she’s gone long enough without treatment as it is. I’m going to have a stern talk with her about keeping this from me, you can be sure. She may well have made a big mistake taking a doctor into her house, if she thought to keep such secrets.”
“I’d like to bring her over in about an hour. Will that be all right with you?”
Doc chuckled softly. “Even if it’s Saturday, I’ve already seen two walk-in patients this morning. I can sure make room for an old friend like Millie.”
“Good. I can help. I’m all moved in.”
“Hopefully, Millie’ll be the last patient for the day. But you’re more than welcome to sit in on the visit.”
“I’d like to. Thanks.”
Beth hung up then realized that Nola Teachout, the central switchboard operator, might have been listening in on their conversation. She cursed her lapse of memory.
In New York City, the central switchboard was comprised of a large group of very busy women. Odds were strong they hadn’t the time to listen in on conversations, much less recognize the speakers or their subjects. Here in Grand View, however, the amount of telephone calls necessitated only one switchboard operator. And that operator knew everyone.
Beth would have to be far more careful whenever she conferred with Doc or a patient over the telephone. The only consolation was that Nola was known to be a discreet woman who generally disdained gossip. Probably the main reason she was hired for the job, Beth supposed, and she offered up a prayer of thanks.
It was almost noon before they made their way to Doc’s office. Millie entered first, with Beth following, guiding Emily’s wheelchair through the door. To her surprise, a woman with a black eye and bruised cheek was just then walking out of Doc’s examining room.
Beth parked Emily’s wheelchair near the window, then turned back to the ebony-haired woman. “Why, Mary Sue Edgerton”—she extended her hand in greeting—“what a pleasant surprise. I haven’t seen you in years and imagined you’d wed some rich, handsome man by now and moved away.”
Mary Sue met her gaze, then averted it, flushing crimson. “It’s Peterson. Mary Sue Peterson. And though I did marry the owner of the Grand View Bank, I didn’t move away.” She shot Doc Childress a quick glance. “Harlow will settle the bill on Monday, if that’s all right with you, Doc.”
He nodded. “That’ll be fine, Mary Sue. Just have a care from here on out, will you? Next time you fall down the stairs, you might not get off with just a black eye and bruised face.”
She managed a taut smile.
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