in consciousness. Her nebulous gaze focused on unfamiliar surroundings. Bouquets of blue and yellow flowers dotted the walls, and an open window invited a welcome breeze from swaying tree branches. A marble and oak washstand, a stately armoire, rocker, and trunk were the only pieces of furniture except for the intricately carved headboard. She stroked the thin white coverlet trimmed in white tatted lace that lightly covered her, and she repeatedly ran her fingers over a pale blue and green embroidered basket of flowers on the pillowcase.
Somewhere she heard a piano and strained to hear the tune. It was a hymn, one her old piano teacher used to play. Jenny hadn’t focused on religious songs for years. She concentrated on classical pieces as emphasized by her music professor at the university. But this particular song had been a recital piece, her very first performance—”Amazing Grace.”
Jenny sighed and recalled all those dreadful nights on board the train. Now she lay tucked in a feather bed inhaling the faint scent of roses from the linens, decidedly more pleasant than the smells from the night before.
She held her breath. The events of the previous day had been real.
Where am I? In the same breath, all the remembrances poured over her like a chilling rain on a cold winter day. Jenny painfully relived every embarrassing moment from the instant she stumbled down from the train until her stomach convulsed in the presence of Mr. Turner and Dr. Andrews.
“Oh.” She moaned in memory of the torrid heat and how she’d fainted and hit her head. A dull ache still persisted. She gingerly touched a lump high on the right side of her forehead.
Embarrassment burned her cheeks. The thought of facing Dr. Andrews and Miss Mimi seemed to be more than she could bear. Jenny buried her head in the pillow. How could she look at anyone in this town after yesterday? Dreaded tears threatened to flow, but she swallowed them. Mother and Father would be sorely disappointed in her behavior. Displays of emotion were not the proper manner for handling problems.
After several minutes, her thoughts slipped back to Dr. Andrews. Why didn’t his wife appear? And where was Jessica’s child? He’d spoken of his daughter. Questions darted in and out of her mind. Of one thing she felt certain: the temporary living arrangements would allow her to become better acquainted with the doctor and his family. The whole nasty business with her illness could be a stroke of luck, and hopefully, she’d soon be on her way back home with her niece.
Her glance fell upon her trunk and bags. Dare she get dressed? Taking a deep breath, she threw back the thin coverlet and slowly moved her legs to the side of the bed. The room began to spin. When it refused to cease, she lay back down and closed her eyes. I’ll try again in a little while. Sleep enveloped her senses.
*****
Grant picked up his empty cup for the third time and attempted to drink from it.
“Why don’t you let me get you some more coffee?” Mimi peered at him across the table.
“I don’t want any.” He stared into the cup, seeing nothing for the worrisome thoughts swirling around in his head.
“Oh, Grant. I do hate to see you so disturbed.” Compassion laced her words.
A deep sense of melancholy threatened to overtake him. He set the cup on its saucer and gently pushed it back along with a half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs and buttery grits. “I’m worried about our new patient. Not her condition, but her reason for being here.”
“I feel the same way. When I stepped inside your office, I thought I was looking at a ghost—the same big brown eyes and dark hair. Then she introduced herself as Jenny Martin.” Mimi paused. “Is this Jessica’s sister or a cousin? The resemblance is remarkable.” She tilted her head as though an ear turned his way would cause her to hear better. “Do you know something that you’re not telling me?”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know any more than you do. But I’ve got to find out what this is all about.”
“I saw you spent a long time in the study this morning.”
“I needed to pray.”
She picked up his cup and disappeared into the kitchen only to return with it filled with hot coffee. Her midnight blue eyes captured his gaze. “If we were drinkin’ folks, I’d add something a little stronger.”
Grant chuckled. “If I was a drinkin’ man, I’d accept it.” Taking