Warning at Eagle's Watch (7 page)

"She did?" he said in stark amazement. He turned and looked at Hillary intently. His eyes held respect and a bit of wonder. "And how did she do that?"

"Coercion. The little snip threatened to toss me out a window."

Dr. Newburg laughed heartily, and he looked quite a bit younger, his face momentarily relieved of the tension and tiredness that had filled it before. "I should have thought of that myself."

He quickly went over the data that Hillary had collected in her few hours of association with her patient, and was happy to see that Priscilla was strong and steady, as well as impressed with Hillary's efficiency and accuracy.

They left Scotty for a few moments to go down to the living room to consult about the physical therapy program that Scotty would begin.

"By the way, Hillary," Scotty said slyly as the doctor and nurse went out the door. "If you should run into that no-good relative, Mitchell Morrison, this morning, tell him I hope he had a restful sleep last night."

Hillary giggled. Even hidden up here in her closed room, away from the daily happenings of Eagle's Watch, while feeling depressed and unhappy and unable to cope with the drastic changes that her own life had undergone, Scotty was clever, observant, wise enough to know exactly what was going on.

She was definitely one of a kind.

The living room on the first floor was deserted when Hillary and Dr. Newburg sat down in two comfortable chairs to go over the facts of Priscilla Scott's case.

Her heart condition was controlled by a daily dose of digoxin, to be given each morning, as it had been today. If the symptoms of angina pectoris were to recur, causing a definite pain in the heart region of the chest, Hillary was to administer two tablets of nitroglycerin immediately, to be dissolved under the patient's tongue. Good care and protection from stressful situations would greatly lessen any chance that these dangerous warning signs would recur.

The therapy for recovery from the stroke was much as Hillary had expected. Since the damage done had not been too extensive, and since the initial therapy Scotty had received in the hospital had enabled her to progress to the point where she could sit up with assistance, (though far from willingly, the doctor chuckled, thinking of the headaches she had caused during her stay in the hospital), she was ready to begin an extensive exercise program.

Her right limbs had been affected, showing that the stroke had occurred in the left sector of the brain. Her left arm was movable, though weakened from the general strain on her body, her left leg the same. There was a slight droop to the right side of her face, but the speech center had not been affected.

Hillary would have to be sure that her patient received no sedation, nor consumed any liquor during her recuperation. Her meals, as Mrs. Raymond and the cook had been instructed, were to be soft and easily digestible.

The exercise program the doctor prescribed was one that began with passive movement, where Hillary would rhythmically move Scotty's limbs back and forth, back and forth, to redevelop the nerve and muscle patterns that had been lost with the stroke. He carefully described the series of motions that she would go through each session, gradually expanding in number as her strength returned.

The vital signs had to be diligently checked for any sign of overwork or relapse. The blood pressure must remain normal, the pulse regular, as uneven signs could indicate undue stress on the heart. A rising temperature would be a warning, as would rapid breathing or uneven dilation of the pupils in the eyes.

All in all, Hillary felt that her job was relatively easy. She was to assist her patient in the recovery process, while carefully monitoring the response of her body, making sure that all of her vital signs were under control.

Not a mind-shattering task, she had to admit, after her heady dreams of surgical nursing at a prestigious hospital. But it would be an interesting change of pace, and a chance to help Scotty recover some of the life that she felt she had lost. And for some reason, that was very important to her.

She listened carefully to the elderly doctor and learned about him as she learned about her patient. He knew Scotty well, indeed. Theirs had been a relationship that went back for many, many years.

"She acts like a tough old bird," he said, running a tired hand through his unkempt gray hair. "But her heart's really in the right place, once you get to know her. I guess I don't have to tell you that, from what I've seen." He looked at Hillary with a questioning glance. "You seem to have her in the palm of your hand."

Hillary laughed. "I don't think either of us will ever see the day when Priscilla Scott is in the palm of anyone's hand, Doctor. It seems to me she has a very definite mind of her own."

"Well, that's true, as you say." He began stacking up the medical papers laid out before them, and returned them to the file. "I can't help but worry that someone will get the better of her, make her do something that may not be in her best interest. She's getting old. And she's worth a lot, that woman up there."

"So I've heard."

"Hmm. Well, I've got to get going. Have a full schedule today, and I've got to stop home to clean myself up before I hit the road again. I'm getting old myself, I guess. I'm getting to the point where I'd much rather do research. It'll be good to know you're here, Nurse Holt. Takes the pressure off me coming up this way every day. I'll stop by a few times a week, to check out on the progress, and of course you can always reach me by phone. The answering service usually knows which direction I'm heading in, and they can track me down."

He looked at Hillary for a moment.

"Was there something else. Dr. Newburg?"

"Matter of fact, I did have one more question. I was wondering what a young girl like you was doing with a job like this, way out here off the beaten track. Can't be much of a lark."

Hillary smiled. "I've wondered that a few times myself. But I'll do a good job." She didn't want to go into any lengthy explanations of the circumstances that had brought her to Eagle's Watch.

"Hmm," the doctor said in a preoccupied way as he left her at the door. "You take good care of her now, you hear? And call me if you need me."

He was gone.

Hillary spent the next two hours working closely with Scotty in her room upstairs, finding her a mixture of eagerness and apprehension as her therapy began.

The young nurse began by gently massaging and manipulating her limbs and muscles. They still ached greatly from the soreness and stiffness that follows the aftermath of a stroke. Hillary was as careful as was humanly possible, and Scotty, for once, held her tongue and cooperated with the effort.

The passive exercises went well on that first attempt. Scotty had always been an active and alert woman, and her limbs moved relatively easily as Hillary took her through the repetitious exercises. Up and down, up and down. She lifted each leg time after time, concentrating on the weaker right one and periodically halting to note her patient's pulse to make sure that the effort was not too much for her.

When it was time for Scotty to rest, Hillary lowered her comfortably into her bed so that she could be refreshed and ready to descend to the downstairs to take over her role as the owner of Eagle's Watch. She smiled down on the sleeping woman as she left the room, proud of the progress that had been made and even more excited about the future prospects of bringing Scotty back to her old, active form. So far so good.

* * *

Hillary wandered downstairs to check on the preparations for Scotty's lunch. She ran into Mitchell, drink in hand, and was introduced to the other newly arrived family members. Her first impression was an overwhelming one. Scotty had been disturbingly right in her analysis of her relatives and their intentions.

There was Arnold Weaver, a man whose age closely matched Scotty's, but who showed no resemblance to her in any other way. He was her first cousin, the closest relation, a self-indulgent little man always ready to sing his own praises, elegant from his well-manicured hands to his lavishly expensive clothing. He was as moody as he was vain, feeling the world owed him a living even though, according to Mitchell, he had never done a day's work in his life.

Next she met the Highfields, a portly, middle-aged couple sporting flashy clothes and talking excitedly in voices that were too loud for the room. Belinda Highfield was the daughter of a deceased cousin of Scotty's and went out of her way to appear concerned and caring about Priscilla.

But her eyes were shrewd and calculating, bringing to mind the cool stares of the family ancestors whose portraits hung on the staircase wall. The concern in her high-pitched voice just did not ring true.

Her thick-jowled husband, Franklin, had a puffy, weak-willed appearance, standing quietly in the overpowering shadow of his very vocal wife.

And Mitchell? How did she feel about him, seeing him among the others who had traveled to Eagle's Watch hoping to put themselves on the good side of the woman they thought might be close to death's door, hoping to get their share of the family estate. Vultures, Scotty had aptly called them.

But Mitchell, in his open and forthright manner, was humorous and direct in his approach to the whole situation, not trying to hide behind the see-through cloak of concern that the others attempted to delude the world with. Hillary respected him for his honesty, if not his motives.

When she made the announcement that Scotty was well enough to be joining the family for meals, that the doctor felt that she had every hope for a quick and relatively total recovery from her recent stroke, the reaction in the room was a strange one. The Highfields froze, drink in midair, the shock and disbelief etched on their unhappy faces. No doubt about their true emotions now. Scotty's recovery had been the last thing on their minds.

Arnold had been polite and discreet, making little comments into the stillness of the room. "Marvelous, marvelous. Really, the wonders of modern medicine!" But his comments were contradicted by the cold and disappointed look upon his face.

Only Mitchell's eyes were unreadable, un-laughing for once, but giving away no clue as to the feelings of their owner.

So this was Scotty's family. Hillary could see clearly the reasons that she had planned to hide herself away in the privacy of her room, rather than cope with this family full of undercurrents and questionable motives. They were people who had come in the name of concern, perhaps, but in reality, with very high hopes for their own personal gain.

Was Hillary right to have convinced Scotty to take part in these family meals? Would she be strong enough to go through with it?

But she had no time for further doubts, for at that moment the door to the dining room burst open to reveal the mistress of Eagle's Watch. She was confined to a wheelchair, perhaps, but she was wearing her best daytime finery, cheeks rosy with rouge and her head held high. Scotty was going through with it, all right, and with a lot of pride.

She waved away the hesitant Mr. Raymond who stood behind the chair, and with her stronger arm, pushed the button on the side of the motorized chair and crossed the room alone, to face the family that she had summed up so well.

Lunch was tense affair. Hillary sat, ever mindful of the spritely little woman who regally ruled from the head of the long table. Scotty ate her specially prepared menu with poise, if not with great dexterity. And she seemed oblivious (though Hillary knew instinctively that she was not) to the several pairs of eyes that continually surveyed her actions and judged her efforts.

The conversation was stilted and superficial, remarks made more to end the strained silence at the table than to communicate anything. Hillary was more than glad when the plates were cleared away, and the meal was over. Scotty had been amazingly quiet during the course of the meal, looking preoccupied and distant, though to Hillary's perceptive eye, she was constantly taking in all that was going on around her.

"It's so touching to have you all running to my bedside with your great concern," Scotty said finally, as the group was breaking up. Her voice dripped with the venomous sarcasm that she used so effectively. Hillary had to cough to cover the hint of a smile that was sneaking over her lips. Scotty could handle this bunch, she realized, and if Hillary was any judge, she was about to make that known.

"But really, as you can see, I'm fit as a fiddle at this point, and plan to be even fitter before much more time has passed. In other words, I have no intention of kicking the bucket yet."

The group stared at her in open-mouthed silence. She had their attention, that was certain.

"You are all welcome, of course, as members of the family, to stay on here at Eagle's Watch for as long as you may desire. Within reason," she added with a smirk, looking directly at her fancy but idle Cousin Arnold.

He intently picked at a piece of imaginary lint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"And now, the time has come for me to return to my suite to begin my afternoon therapy. Nurse Holt, as you know, is responsible for the progress I will be making. She is genuinely, refreshingly concerned about my well-being. A fact that will not go unnoticed, I assure you."

She turned to Hillary, and there was a devilish glint in her eye. Just what was Scotty up to? It wasn't long until the nurse found out.

"Hillary, perhaps you could contact Mr. Browning, my attorney in town, and ask him to stop by Eagle's Watch some time during the course of the week. I have a matter that I would like to discuss at length with him."

Belinda made an almost inaudible gasp at her words, her large mouth falling open as Scotty turned the motorized wheelchair and moved out of the room, the whirring sound almost deafening in the stillness of the room. Mr. Raymond appeared at the door to carry her upstairs.

Hillary stood frozen to the spot for a few minutes, wishing that she was out of range of the knifelike stares that were bombarding her from the four family members in the cold stone room. There was not much doubt as to the thoughts that were going on in their minds.