else.”
Kat felt like she was going to be sick. How could she be the only one available? She’d have to find a place to take Rosita. That’s all she could do. But first she had to tell the little one her mama was gone.
Sliding her legs over the side of the cot, Kat looked down at the child. “Rosita, I need to talk to you about your mama, but I need you to come here.” She patted the cot, and when Rosita inched toward it, the doctor hoisted her up beside Kat.
“Miss Sinclair, I have to get about my business. More and more patients are pouring in.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“The sisters left you a cotton frock to change into.” He glanced at a hook behind the cot where a housedress hung beside Kat’s cape. “When you feel up to it, you can go home.”
Home . That was Maine.
But even as the thought blew across her mind like a wayward wind, she knew Maine was no longer her home. She wasn’t sure where home was now.
“Come back in a week to get your stitches out,” Dr. Hanson said. “Sooner if you have any redness or swelling.”
He was already on the other side of the curtain when she mumbled, “I will.” Kat had no idea how she would manage to find someone to care for Rosita on top of finding Judson Archer for her sister and finding a means to support herself. And dealing with Patrick Maloney was another matter entirely.
Moments later, Kat had told Rosita they weren’t going to find her mama, that her mother had died. The little girl sat in the middle of the cot, facing her.
“Mama gets better. Doc makes her better.”
Kat folded her hands over Rosita’s. “Not this time.”
The child pulled her hands back, her eyes welling up. “I want Mama!”
“I’m sorry.”
The child’s bottom lip quivered as tears poured in rivulets over her cheeks, and an ache the size of Pikes Peak gripped Kat’s heart.
What was she to do now? What was either of them to do? She couldn’t leave the girl here to fend for herself. There had to be someone who could care for her. She’d start with Miss Sunny tomorrow. For now, she needed to get them both to Hattie’s for a bath and some supper. She pulled the smock off the peg.
“I’ll change my clothes, and then we’ll go to Hattie’s Boardinghouse. You can stay the night with me and my sister.”
Rosita nodded.
Once she’d changed into the smock, Kat retrieved her cape and wrapped it around Rosita. “When we get to Hattie’s, we can take baths and have something to eat.” Tomorrow she’d find Sunny and see if she knew any more about Rosita’s family.
Draped in the wool cape, Rosita shadowed Kat through the ward and into narrow hallways where men and women waited for treatment. Before she and the little one could reach the hospital door, a scream from down the hallway pierced the putrid air.
“Somebody please help me!”
No one rushed to the woman’s aid. Kat knew she had to see whatwas wrong. She reached for Rosita’s hand. The child at her side, she hurried toward the pleas and wrenched open a door.
The woman on the bed, who had the roundest middle Kat had ever seen, was alone and devoid of even a single stitch of clothing. She looked like a knotted rope that had been dragged through a muddy wash, then plunked on the cot and left to unravel. Soggy red hair was plastered to her bobbing head. Kat remembered when Mother had gone into labor with Vivian, and the experience still seared her memory. She knew enough to know she wasn’t qualified to help this woman. Besides, a birthing room was no place for a child, and Rosita had been through enough today.
“I’ll go find a doctor.”
“No.” Rocking in lopsided circles, the woman motioned for Kat to come close. “You have to help me.” She arched her back and grabbed her knees.
Kat motioned Rosita toward a chair by the door and crept toward the bed.
Neither of them belonged here. She should’ve been at home in Maine playing checkers with one of her sisters in front of a warm
Kat felt like she was going to be sick. How could she be the only one available? She’d have to find a place to take Rosita. That’s all she could do. But first she had to tell the little one her mama was gone.
Sliding her legs over the side of the cot, Kat looked down at the child. “Rosita, I need to talk to you about your mama, but I need you to come here.” She patted the cot, and when Rosita inched toward it, the doctor hoisted her up beside Kat.
“Miss Sinclair, I have to get about my business. More and more patients are pouring in.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“The sisters left you a cotton frock to change into.” He glanced at a hook behind the cot where a housedress hung beside Kat’s cape. “When you feel up to it, you can go home.”
Home . That was Maine.
But even as the thought blew across her mind like a wayward wind, she knew Maine was no longer her home. She wasn’t sure where home was now.
“Come back in a week to get your stitches out,” Dr. Hanson said. “Sooner if you have any redness or swelling.”
He was already on the other side of the curtain when she mumbled, “I will.” Kat had no idea how she would manage to find someone to care for Rosita on top of finding Judson Archer for her sister and finding a means to support herself. And dealing with Patrick Maloney was another matter entirely.
Moments later, Kat had told Rosita they weren’t going to find her mama, that her mother had died. The little girl sat in the middle of the cot, facing her.
“Mama gets better. Doc makes her better.”
Kat folded her hands over Rosita’s. “Not this time.”
The child pulled her hands back, her eyes welling up. “I want Mama!”
“I’m sorry.”
The child’s bottom lip quivered as tears poured in rivulets over her cheeks, and an ache the size of Pikes Peak gripped Kat’s heart.
What was she to do now? What was either of them to do? She couldn’t leave the girl here to fend for herself. There had to be someone who could care for her. She’d start with Miss Sunny tomorrow. For now, she needed to get them both to Hattie’s for a bath and some supper. She pulled the smock off the peg.
“I’ll change my clothes, and then we’ll go to Hattie’s Boardinghouse. You can stay the night with me and my sister.”
Rosita nodded.
Once she’d changed into the smock, Kat retrieved her cape and wrapped it around Rosita. “When we get to Hattie’s, we can take baths and have something to eat.” Tomorrow she’d find Sunny and see if she knew any more about Rosita’s family.
Draped in the wool cape, Rosita shadowed Kat through the ward and into narrow hallways where men and women waited for treatment. Before she and the little one could reach the hospital door, a scream from down the hallway pierced the putrid air.
“Somebody please help me!”
No one rushed to the woman’s aid. Kat knew she had to see whatwas wrong. She reached for Rosita’s hand. The child at her side, she hurried toward the pleas and wrenched open a door.
The woman on the bed, who had the roundest middle Kat had ever seen, was alone and devoid of even a single stitch of clothing. She looked like a knotted rope that had been dragged through a muddy wash, then plunked on the cot and left to unravel. Soggy red hair was plastered to her bobbing head. Kat remembered when Mother had gone into labor with Vivian, and the experience still seared her memory. She knew enough to know she wasn’t qualified to help this woman. Besides, a birthing room was no place for a child, and Rosita had been through enough today.
“I’ll go find a doctor.”
“No.” Rocking in lopsided circles, the woman motioned for Kat to come close. “You have to help me.” She arched her back and grabbed her knees.
Kat motioned Rosita toward a chair by the door and crept toward the bed.
Neither of them belonged here. She should’ve been at home in Maine playing checkers with one of her sisters in front of a warm
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