The Alaska Brides Collection Part 51

"Well, not all of it." She patted her shoulder-length bob. "Just the part that got in the way."

Meredith made a complete circle around Fiona, then shook her head. "What's it like? Do you miss it?"

"Miss the mess? Of course not." Fiona reached for the handle of the basket and ushered her sister-in-law inside. "Come get out of this wind. It's going to blow you away."

"Oh, Fiona, that's the hazard of living in Goose Chase. I'm used to it."

Fiona shut the door and carried the basket into the kitchen. As Meredith swept in and began to unload the contents of the basket, Fiona settled at the table and watched her work.

"I'm wondering something, Merry," she said after a moment.

She paused to turn and face Fiona. "What's that?"

"Why did my brother bring you here?" Fiona paused. "The real reason."

Meredith paused before saying, "Fiona, you know I've always respected your request not to speak of Tucker in my letters or on those rare times when we've been together." She lifted her gaze to meet Fiona's. "So, if I were to answer that question, it might tell you more than you want to know."

Fiona opened her mouth to speak then thought better of it. Perhaps Meredith was right. Details of Tucker Smith's life were best left to his wife.

"All right, then," Fiona said. "Why don't I make some coffee? You can catch me up on all the wonderful things my brilliant niece and nephews are doing."

"Brilliant?" Meredith chuckled. "Brilliant at driving their poor mother to distraction." She sobered a moment. "Seriously, they are wonderful children. A mother couldn't be prouder."

Fiona reached for the pail of water she'd drawn only moments before Meredith's arrival and poured just enough in the pot for four cups of coffee. After lighting the stove, she set the pot atop the burner and returned to her place at the table. In her absence, Meredith's face had taken on a worried look.

"Something's wrong. What is it, Merry?"

Her sister-in-law reached for Fiona's hands and held them tight. "It's Douglas." She paused to study the pattern on the tablecloth before looking up. "He wants to join the war effort."

"Why, that's wonderful, Merry," Fiona said. Behind her, the water began to gurgle in the pot. "We all need to do our part for the boys serving our country. What is it he wants to do?"

Tears welled in Meredith's eyes. "He wants to join the army, Fiona. My boy wants to fight for his country."

"Fight?" The word caught in Fiona's throat. To her mind, Douglas would always be the red-haired infant she'd cuddled eighteen years ago. He would be grown now, a man to most of the world.

Back in Seattle, she'd lost a neighbor to the campaign against the Kaiser, and in her practice, she'd seen far too many of the walking wounded who'd been sent home.

"Yes," Meredith said softly.

Fiona squeezed Meredith's hands. "Well, surely Ian will talk sense into the boy."

The first fat tear landed on the oilcloth, followed in quick succession by several more. Meredith's lip trembled as she cleared her throat.

"That's the worst part. Ian's supporting him in this."

"Surely not," Fiona said. "Why, Douglas is still a lad. Why in heaven's name would anyone suggest he'd be fit for fighting?"

Meredith shook her head. "He's nearly nineteen. By the time I was his age, I had already..."

She didn't have to complete the thought. Fiona knew of Meredith's trek from Texas to Alaska, although she'd only been privy to the vaguest details as to why. Something about a bit of trouble Meredith's pa had encountered-trouble Tucker had remedied with an inheritance from their uncle Darian.

Fiona forced her mind back to the issue at hand. "What's the cause of this, Merry? Has my brother encouraged Douglas's patriotism?"

"Yes," a male voice sounded from outside.

Her attention shot to the open window where Ian Rafferty stood. "A little birdie told me there was pie and fresh coffee to be had here."

Bolting to the door, Fiona met her brother halfway. He greeted her with a hug, then twirled her around and set her back down. Reeling, she smoothed her hair back into place.

"Mercy, girl, where's the rest of you?" Ian towered over her, a mock scowl decorating his features. "You've gone and cut off your curls."

"Oh, bother, Ian, get on inside and let's talk about something more important than the length of my hair."

"I like it, actually," Meredith said. "It's much prettier than a plain old braid."

"Never mind, Merry." Ian stomped his boots until satisfied he'd removed most of the mud and then strode inside. "I find your braid to be anything but plain. And I have similar feelings about the rest of you, darling wife."

Fiona watched him kiss the top of his wife's head and then felt an unfamiliar wistful tug. As soon as the feeling came, she pressed it away. Years of training her mind had caused her to perform the action almost without thought.

What good did wis.h.i.+ng and hoping do?

"So, do you like the little place we picked out, Fiona, dear?" Ian removed the coffeepot from the stove. "Merry would have preferred something nearer our place, but I told her you'd like being close to your office."

While Meredith engaged Ian in a discussion of the merits of living on the east side of town as opposed to the west, Fiona found three mugs in the second cabinet she opened. Filling two, she slid them before her brother and sister-in-law then reached back to pour hers.

The banter continued for another few minutes before Ian cleared his throat and regarded Fiona with a sideways look. "So, that your Tin Lizzie at the curb?"

"Tin Lizzie?" Fiona chuckled. "Well, if you're referring to my 1916 Ford, then yes, that's mine. Do you like it?"

Ian pretended to think for a moment. "I reckon it's fine for a city girl, but let's see how it fares through an Alaskan winter."

"I'm more worried about how I'll fare through an Alaskan winter," Fiona said. "I've heard here on the peninsula the weather's comparable to Seattle. Is that true?"

"Actually, last winter when you all were posting record snowfalls, we fared pretty well," Ian said. "But then, I'm sure my wife will be glad to help you shop for anything you might need to keep warm."

Meredith nudged her husband. "Very funny." She turned her attention to Fiona, placing her hands atop Fiona's. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Thank you." She winked at Ian. "I'm glad I'm here, too. It's not what I thought I'd be doing, but I'm sure it didn't take the Lord by surprise."

"Speaking of surprise," Meredith said, "the whole town is wondering why Doc Killbone suddenly decided to retire. He's not saying a word, but I wondered if maybe you knew."

"Now, Merry," Ian warned. "It's really none of our business." He paused. "Unless the doctor's in ill health. In that case, I would want to bring his situation before the church elders since he's got no family up here."

"No," Fiona said. "He only mentioned that he was ready to pa.s.s on his patients to someone younger and that he'd like me to stay on while a proper search is conducted." She shrugged. "I a.s.sumed he was ready to retire. Speaking of the doctor, he said he would leave a key with you, Merry."

She shook her head. "Plans changed. He's still in Goose Chase. I guess he figured even a week without a doctor was too long for our bustling city."

Fiona laughed. "Now that's the Doc Killbone I remember. I suppose I should find my way down there this week and visit with him before he goes."

Meredith nodded. "Yes, but wait until tomorrow. I have the most wonderful idea. Why don't you join us tonight for dinner? It's not caribou, I promise."

A positive response lay on the tip of her tongue, but then Fiona thought better of it. She'd most likely see Tucker Smith eventually. It was highly unlikely he would go long periods of time without seeing his twin. Still, she'd traveled a long way to return to a place where bad memories abounded. Perhaps a good night's sleep would better prepare her for whatever situations entering Ian and Meredith's home would bring.

Thankfully, Ian saved her from having to decide. "Not tonight, dear. I've got a meeting of the church elders, and I'm sure Fiona is exhausted."

"Indeed, I am a bit tired." She glanced out the window to see a tall, red-haired fellow driving a wagon, a dark-haired girl at his side. As he halted to swing off the seat, Fiona knew the fellow was Douglas.

She met him at the curb and wrapped her arms around him. "When did you grow to twice my height, Douglas?" She leaned past him to smile at the young lady in the wagon. "I'm Fiona, Douglas's aunt."

The girl held tight to the reins with one hand and shook Fiona's hand with the other. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Rafferty. I'm Grace."

"That's Dr. Rafferty, know-it-all," Douglas said. "Now make yourself useful and fetch something out of the box."

"Stay right where you are, Lizzie Grace." Ian strode toward them, and for a moment, Fiona was struck by the similarity of father and son. She might as well have been looking at the same person in two generations. Funny, but had it really been so many years since Ian was Douglas's age? Some days it felt like yesterday.

"Something wrong, Aunt Fiona?" Douglas asked.

"No, darling," she said. "I was just thinking back to when your father was young and strong like you."

"Hey now," Ian called from the back of the wagon, "don't call me an old man yet. I may be the older of the two, but I guarantee I'm the stronger. Let's just see who gets more of these trunks inside than the other."

At Ian's challenge, Douglas picked up his pace. Grace chuckled. "It's always like this. You should see them when it comes to chopping wood. Between those two and my father, the whole town of Goose Chase could stay warm from what they chop."

Fiona drew near the wagon. Something about the young woman seemed so familiar. The eyes-she'd seen them somewhere before. But where?

"Stand back, Dr. Rafferty. Here they come again," Grace called as the door opened and two burly redheads poured out.

While the men and their cargo went in the front door, Meredith came strolling out the back. "h.e.l.lo, Liz-" She paused to shake her head. "Sorry, it's going to take some time for me to get used to this. Let me start over. h.e.l.lo, Grace. I see you've met Dr. Rafferty."

When the girl nodded, Meredith continued. "Fiona, Grace reminds me of you when you were her age. We're trying to get her father to understand that perhaps G.o.d has plans for Grace that include using her gifts as a healer."

"He's so old-fas.h.i.+oned," Grace said as she rolled her eyes. "He was furious when I told him I was thinking about becoming a nurse so I could join the war effort. Can you believe it?"

"Now, dear," Meredith said, "this is the first I've heard of your interest in such a thing."

The girl edged closer to the side of the wagon. "My friend Helen from church just left to study at Grace Hospital in Toronto. She's got her heart set on joining the Canadian Expeditionary Forces. They go all over the world, you know?"

Fiona noticed Meredith's face had gone white, so she carefully steered the girl away from such dangerous waters. "Why nursing, Grace? Have you ever thought of becoming a doctor? It takes a bit longer, and you'd most likely miss active-duty status in this war, but you'd be helping a whole lot of people back here." She paused. "A great many of our fighting men have returned and are in need of follow-up care by trained doctors. Perhaps you'd like to know what medical school entails."

"Oh yes, do tell."

The girl hung on each word, and by the time Fiona offered to continue the discussion at the office sometime in the near future, Douglas was climbing back onto the buckboard, and Ian looked as if he might be in need of a nap. Meredith mouthed a discreet "Thank you" as Ian came to stand at her side.

"Thank you for bringing the rest of my things," Fiona said. "I could never have managed to get them all inside without you Rafferty men." She turned to Grace. "And it was lovely meeting you, dear. Do come and see me down at the office soon."

"I will," Grace said. "I promise." She offered Fiona a troubled look. "But do we have to tell my papa? He's awful cantankerous when it comes to this subject."

"I think you shouldn't be dishonest with your father," Ian said. "He's a good man and only wants the best for you. If he forbids you to do something, you mustn't do it."

"And while you're contemplating my father's wise words," Douglas interjected, "hand over the reins. I don't ride in a wagon with a woman driving."

Grace objected to the statement and the demand, and soon the pair were embroiled in a war of words. Meanwhile, Ian gave Fiona a kiss on the cheek and headed for the back of the empty wagon.

"Climb in, wife," an exhausted Ian said to Meredith. "I don't believe I'll be walking home today."

"Dear, this happens every time you try to keep pace with Douglas." She allowed her husband to hand her up into the wagon. "Perhaps you should take on our younger son and let the elder one be."

Ian chuckled and gestured to the front of the wagon where Douglas had reluctantly given up on seizing the reins from Grace. "I think our elder son has met his match."

Meredith settled her skirts demurely around her and then smiled at her husband. "Happens every time a Rafferty takes on a-"

"Off with you now," Ian quickly called to Grace. "I'm hankering for a soft chair and a bowl of stew before my meeting at church."

The dark-haired girl set the horses moving and then looked over her shoulder at Ian. "Will Papa be at that meeting?"

Ian's answer was lost in the clatter of horses' hooves, and soon Fiona stood alone in the silence. "Well, Lord," she said as she trudged toward the door and the mountain of boxes that begged to be unpacked, "I don't know for sure what Your plan is, but then, when did that ever stop me from following anyway?"

Chapter 16.

Fiona's penchant for neatness kept her up half the night; thus she'd slept well past dawn. Or at least past the time dawn would have broken in Seattle.

Her breakfast, therefore, had become a midmorning snack, and her early morning visit with Doc Killbone had been postponed until after lunch. She found plenty to busy herself with, however, starting with putting away the last of her personal effects.

Only one trunk had remained unpacked last night, and she opened it now. She quickly hung the clothing it contained in the armoire and then removed the paper separating the clothing from her weakness: an extensive collection of shoes. There atop the matched rows of footwear purchased at the likes of Nordstrom's and the Bon Marche sat a hideous pair of eighteen-year-old sealskin boots.

She lifted one out and gingerly examined it. Considering its age and the heavy use it had taken during that one memorable Alaskan summer, the boot had held together remarkably well.

"How many times have I tried to give these away?" Fiona sighed. "More times than I could count. Come winter, I might be glad I saved them."

Fiona removed its mate and set the pair together in the back of the armoire, then began arranging the other shoes around them until the trunk was empty. With the last trunk set on the back porch for Douglas to retrieve that evening, Fiona ran out of busywork. Only her visit to the clinic remained undone.

Forgoing a lunch that likely wouldn't settle well on her nervous stomach, Fiona decided to drive, then at the last minute chose to walk the short distance. She bypa.s.sed Doc Killbone's office to browse through the offerings at the Goose Chase Mercantile. While it would in no way be mistaken for Nordstrom's, the mercantile did give the local Sears and Roebuck some serious compet.i.tion.

She'd walked through departments containing outerwear, underwear, and footwear, when she came to the section reserved for the extreme cold of the Alaskan winter. Not surprisingly, it was the largest department.

A bald-headed fellow in clothing that looked as if it came off the racks from that very department called to her as he emerged from the back of the store. "Need anything, you let me know, miss."

"Thank you," she responded. "I'll do that."

But she wasn't shopping, just looking. It was something to do to pa.s.s the time until she collected her wits and retraced the steps of her past to the front door of the medical clinic.