Heaven Sent (44 page)

“
Good God, she’s smiling!”
George. Callie felt him leaning over her.

“
Does—does that mean
anything, Doctor?” Alta, too, leaned over her.

“
Oh, please, Doctor, tell us
she’ll be all right!” Florence joined the other two of Callie’s
siblings.

“
I can’t tell you anything
until I’ve examined her.” The doctor sounded as if he were losing
patience. “Will you please leave the room so that I can get this
done?”

“
Oh, she looks so terrible!
I’m so afraid for her!”

“
Don’t cry, Florence.” Alta.
was crying, too, although Callie wasn’t sure Alta knew
it.

“
Come on, Alta and Flo.
Let’s get a cup of tea or something. Let Dr. Marshall do whatever
he has to do.” More grimly, George added, “I’ve got to get a
message to Lockhart.”

Lockhart. Not Mr.
Lockhart
. Oh, dear, George was angry. He
was blaming Aubrey for whatever had happened. If only she could
remember. Callie tried to remember, but was again
unsuccessful.

“
Thank you,” the doctor
muttered. He sounded cranky, but Callie thought she detected an
underlay of apprehension. She didn’t think that was a good
sign.

She heard a whoosh and a bang, and she
flinched yet again. These loud noises played the very devil with
her headache.

The doctor said, “For the love of—
What are you barging in here for, Mr. Lockhart? And you shouldn’t
have brought Becky out in this weather. She’s only recently
recovered from a bad bout of influenza and needs to be resting, not
running around in the cold autumn air.”

Good Lord, it was Aubrey and Becky.
Callie exerted every ounce of her inner strength to open her eyes
and look at them, but none of her organs wanted to obey her
commands.

“
Callie!”

Aubrey. He sounded scared. Bad. Very
bad.

“
Miss Prophet!”

Becky. She sounded scared, too. Oh,
dear.

Bother. It was all too much for
Callie. She decided she’d just have to figure it out later. At the
moment, she thought sleep would do her more good than thought. So
she went to sleep.

*****

When Aubrey and Becky had arrived in
Santa Angelica in his surrey, Aubrey had gone to the post office,
bought some stamps, and asked casually if Callie had been in to
chat with her former coworkers. When Mr. Wilson had looked grave
and told him about Callie’s accident, Aubrey’s heart had stopped
beating for a moment. Then it had raced.

He’d scooped Becky up, forgotten all
about the stamps and the horse and buggy waiting for them outside
the post office, and headed at a run for the hospital.

Then, when he’d seen Callie lying
there, her face a deathly white except for the stark, livid bruises
that bled into her hairline and seemed to Aubrey to be silent
accusations, he’d almost fallen down on his knees. Only the fact
that he still held Becky in his arms had kept him
upright.

George Prophet had come to his rescue,
taking his arm and leading him to a chair.

“
Here, Mr. Lockhart, sit
clown here. Callie’s been in an accident.”

“
An accident?” Becky, still
not entirely recovered from her recent illness, began crying
weakly. “What happened? Will she be all right?”

“
We hope so, sweetie pie.”
George, bless him, had smiled encouragingly at Becky.

Then Callie’s sisters had assisted
their brother in coming to Aubrey’s rescue. Alta, whose house was
situated closest to the hospital and whose children were friends of
Becky’s, offered to take Becky to her house. “I’m sure Jane and
Johnny will be pleased to play with Becky.”

Smiling, she held out a hand for
Becky, who resisted, clinging to her father and staring at the bed
where the doctor, hands on his hips, glared at them all.

“
Will you please leave the
room?” Dr. Marshall said severely. “I have to examine Miss
Prophet.”

Aubrey stood up abruptly. “Yes. Thank
you, Doctor.” He turned to Alta. “Thank you, Mrs. Watson. That
would be very good of you. I—I need to know what happened and what
the doctor thinks needs to be done.”

George took his arm again. “Let’s go
out to the lobby so Doc Marshall doesn’t start throwing things at
us. I’ll explain everything while Alta takes care of the
tyke.”

“
Thank you.” Aubrey felt as
though he were walking through quicksand as he left the room. He
wanted to stay. He wanted to shake Dr. Marshall until he explained
fully and exactly what was wrong with Callie and assured him that
she’d be all right. He clung to Becky as if she were his last link
to the earth. She felt like it, even though he knew Alta’s
suggestion had been a sound one.

He nearly collapsed onto the sofa when
they got to the hospital’s lobby. Glancing at each of the Prophets
in turn, he collected his emotions enough to say, “What happened?
That bruise on her face is—is—” He swallowed, recalling the bruise
with horror. “Well, it looks awful.”

“
Is she hurt?” Becky asked
in a small voice, still hugging her papa tightly.

Aubrey hugged her back. “I’m afraid
she must be, sweetheart.”

George passed a hand over his eyes.
“It’s like this: From what we can figure out, she was walking along
the road from your place to the town. The fog was thick this
morning, and she evidently neither saw nor heard the milk wagon.
According to Simpson, the driver, the horse and Callie scared the
spit out of each other when they met up in the middle of the road.
Don’t know why in hell she was walking in the middle of the
road.”

“
George,” Florence said
softly.

Aubrey figured she objected to his
saying “hell.” Aubrey didn’t. He felt like saying worse than
that.

George sighed. “Sorry, Flo, Anyhow,
when Callie and the horse met, the horse reared, and one of its
hooves struck her coming down.”

“
Good God.” Aubrey shut his
eyes, unwilling to picture Callie in such pain and distress. Yet
she was. “Good God.”

“
Will she be all right?”
Becky asked again, her voice even smaller than before.

George smiled at her. Aubrey realized
that all the Prophets had fine smiles. Friendly smiles. Smiles that
invited openness and friendship. A marvelous quality, that. Funny
it should have taken him so long to recognize it.

“
We’re not sure yet, Becky.
Dr. Marshall has to examine her. She has a concussion.”

“
What’s a
‘cussion?”

After exchanging a glance with George,
Aubrey answered his daughter’s question. “When a person gets a
knock on the head, sometimes it makes the little blood vessels
inside break and the brain swell. That’s called a
concussion.”

Becky’s eyes went wide with alarm.
“You mean her brain’s bleeding?”

“
We don’t know yet, Becky,”
George said.

Florence tried to stifle a sob, but
didn’t quite succeed. Alta patted her on the shoulder and said,
“Dr. Marshall will do everything he can, Becky. What we all need to
do is pray for her. Pray hard. God hears people’s prayers, you
know.”

Aubrey could have argued with her on
that subject, but didn’t want to. At the moment, and in spite of
his own experience, he decided to believe what Alta
said.

“
Has she been conscious at
all?” he asked after a short spate of silence.

George shook his head. “No. Not yet.”
His voice sounded gravelly, and he cleared his throat. “The doctor
says if she doesn’t regain consciousness pretty soon, it might mean
. . . Well, it’ll be encouraging if she does, I guess.”

“
Right.” Aubrey pondered
this.

Again silence descended on the glum
company. Becky sniffled audibly, and Florence sniffled inaudibly.
The only reason Aubrey knew she was crying was that she kept wiping
her eyes with a handkerchief.

At last Alta spoke. “Becky, I think it
would be better for you and your papa if you were to come home with
me now. It’s about lunchtime, and Jane and Johnny will be coming
home from Sunday school. They’ll be so pleased to see you, and you
can eat with them and play this afternoon.” She glanced at Aubrey.
“And I think you’ll also feel better this afternoon. Callie said
you’ve been very sick, you poor thing.”

Becky nodded solemnly. “I had
‘fluenza.”

“
Indeed, that’s what Callie
said.” Alta swallowed, and for a moment, Aubrey feared she might
start crying, too.

She didn’t. Instead, she arose from
the chair in which she’d parked herself and came over to Becky with
her hand outstretched. She spoke to Aubrey. “Is that all right with
you, Mr. Lockhart? I expect you and George and Flo and their
families to come to my house for supper tonight, too. It won’t be a
fancy meal, but it’ will save everyone else having to cook when
we’re all so—” She sucked in air. “When we’re all so
worried.”

“
Thank you, Alta.”
Florence’s voice wobbled so much it was difficult to make out the
words. “I want to stay here.”

“
I’d better go. home for a
little while. Have to report to Marie and the kids. Marie will
probably want to help you with supper, Alta.”

Alta nodded. “That’s fine, George.
Send the children too. Might as Well have a whole herd of them as
one or two.”

Aubrey marveled at the dynamics of
this family. They were so easy with each other. And they seemed to
accept and give help with equal facility. He wasn’t quite
accustomed to such easy relationships. It occurred to him that the
Prophets were, in a way, a blessing of a family, and he was
momentarily overwhelmed with gratitude that they should have
blessed his life and Becky’s.

Realizing he was on the verge of
blubbering, he pulled himself together and squeezed Becky. “I’ll
see you later, sweetheart. Have a good time with your friends.” He
gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.

“
Please tell Callie I love
her, Papa,” Becky said as she reached for Alta’s hand. “And tell
her to get better. Dr. Marshall made me better. I bet he can make
her better.”

Two tears trailed down Becky’s cheeks,
and Aubrey reached out to wipe them away. “I will, Becky. I’ll tell
her.” He gulped and shut up before he could make a fool of
himself.

George, Alta, and Becky left the
hospital’s lobby. Aubrey walked to the door and waved to his
daughter until she disappeared from his sight. When he turned, he
saw Florence watching him. He inspected her face, trying to
decipher the expression.

Did she hold him responsible for
Callie’s accident? He was. He blamed himself. If he hadn’t been so
damned huffy with her, if he hadn’t said such accusatory things to
her, if he hadn’t vilified her so viciously, she wouldn’t have run
away. She’d still be in his home, tucked away safely.

God, he loved her. For a moment,
Aubrey covered his face with his hands, wishing with alt his heart
that he’d had the openheartedness to have told her so instead of
condemning her.

But, no. He’d become so entangled with
his grief over Anne that he hadn’t even recognized when the grief
had eased and the habit of grief had taken over. And he’d blamed
Callie for curing him! What an ass he was.

“
I’m sure Callie won’t blame
you for the accident, Mr. Lockhart.”

Florence’s voice, soft and oddly like
Callie’s, only less vibrant, filtered through his misery slowly.
When he understood what she’d said, he lowered his hands and gazed
at her. “I—I think it’s my fault she was on that foggy road this
morning, Mrs. Blanchard. 1—we had an argument.”

“
I figured it was something
like that.” Florence gave him a quavery smile. “She loves you, you
know.”

“
Oh, God.” Aubrey shut his
eyes and stood there, unable to move, wishing he could trade places
with Callie. He deserved to hurt; she didn’t.

Florence patted the sofa cushion next
to her. “Come and sit by me, Mr. Lockhart. I think you ought to
know what Callie thinks of you and Becky.”

He knew what she thought of them. She
loved them both. With a sigh, Aubrey moved to the sofa and sat. At
least Becky deserved Callie’s love. He sure didn’t.

“
You know, Callie used to
write to Becky before she went to live with you. She told us about
it, although she swore us to secrecy. Poor Becky used to write
letters to her mother in heaven and Callie answered them because
she couldn’t stand thinking that the poor little girl’s letters
would otherwise go unanswered.”

“
She told me.” Aubrey’s
heart felt heavier than it had since the day of Anne’s funeral. If
it got much heavier, it would weigh him down forever.

“
Yes.” Florence sighed.
“Callie’s a funny girl.” She laughed softly. “Well, of course,
she’s not a girl any longer. But I think of her as one because
she’s the youngest.”

Aubrey nodded. He wasn’t in the mood
to talk.

“
She’s had several offers of
marriage, you know, but she didn’t accept any of them. Said she
didn’t want to marry anyone she didn’t love. Since she moved to
your house she’s been telling me that she guesses she isn’t the
sort of woman a man could cherish. I don’t know where she came up
with that one, because she’s the loveliest girl, and has the
kindest heart in the world.”