Home by Morning Read Free

as if to keep it from splitting open. He smiled weakly and Jess noticed that he still looked pale and hot-eyed. She could hear congestion in his sinuses and chest, making his words sound as if he had a bucket over his head. Suddenly a fit of coughing overtook him, a spell so violent that Jess half-expected to see his lungs on the waiting room floor.
    She frowned. “That’s a nasty cough you have.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he gasped. “It came on fast. I swear everything hurts, every muscle in my body. And I’m freezing cold. I’m going home to rest, but maybe you could give me something for these aches?”
    Jess leaned back and considered him. It could be something as minor as a bad cold. Or something worse. Amy, who’d rushed off to a meeting of the Liberty Bond Committee, had said there were some medicines in the back, but there had been no time to investigate, and Jess knew she had aspirin tablets in her bag. “All right, let’s start with a simple treatment.” She flipped open the latches and pulled out the glass-stoppered bottle. Rummaging through a side pocket, she also produced an empty envelope and counted them out. “Here are ten tablets—take two every four to six hours.”
    He took the packet from her extended hand and gobbled down two pills before she could even search for a glass of water. “Thank you, ma’am. I mean, Doctor.”
    “Can your father give you a ride home?”
    “He’s busy in his office.”
    She nodded. “All right, then. Let’s see if we can find you a better place to wait for him.” She walked down the short hall that led to an examination room and an office. In the latter she found a horsehair sofa in decent condition that would be more comfortable than the straight-backed wooden chair in the front.
    “Eddie,” she called, “you come sit back here.”
    He struggled to his feet. “Just for a few minutes—I’ve had lots of marching drills at Camp Lewis, and I can walk home once the aspirin starts working.”
    She didn’t think that was a good idea but didn’t bother to argue. “All the same, I’ll get word to your father. I have some errands to run, but I’ll see to it that you get home.”
    Jess left him slumped on the sofa, and a nagging worry pulled at her. Still, she told herself, he’s a strong young man in the peak of health. But it seemed strange he should react so swiftly to a cold. It didn’t make sense.
    Weaving through people on the sidewalk, she saw the mayor coming her way. He strode along purposefully.
    “Jessica! I mean Miss—Dr. Layton. You’re just the person I’ve been looking for.” Horace Cookson was a heavyset man in his mid-forties, a dairy farmer by occupation, who bore a rumpled, homespun dignity. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the bottom button of his vest was missing, and his tie was askew. He had the look of a man who was always either one step ahead of or behind himself. Every weekday morning he rose in the dark, milked his cows, then put on his dress clothes and came to town.
    “If it’s about Eddie—”
    “I heard about your set-to with Granny Mae over him. He’ll be fine, won’t he?”
    “He’s resting in the doctor’s office, but he’s going to need a ride home. He said he’d walk, but really, he’s not up to that.”
    The mayor nodded, plainly unconcerned. “He’s strong and young. He’ll be fine and I’ll see to it that someone gets him—his mother will make a fuss over him. But right now, I’m interested in talking to you. Please,” he said, gesturing in the direction of Powell Springs’s tiny city hall at the end of the block. “Will you come on down to my office for a chat?”
    Jessica frowned slightly. “What about? The county isn’t still insisting that I owe them property taxes—”
    He waved off the suggestion. “No, no, I’m sure that’s not the case. Anyway, I don’t have a thing to do with tax collection. No, we have another subject to talk about.”
    “We