Reluctantly Charmed_Clean Historical Romance_Doctor Holloway's Story Read online

  Magdalena’s mouth dropped open. “Jim—,”

  “I know, I know, it stupid of me. I need to learn to resist the wiles of my sister better.”

  “Don’t try to blame me—“ Mary argued.

  Magdalena laughed out loud.

  “What?” Mary and Jim asked simultaneously.

  “You both just took me back to dinners at your house when we were kids. You reverted back to, oh let’s say, the age of ten?” She grinned.

  Mary scowled but then chuckled. “You and Claire always acted like you were too old to be dealing with me and Jim,” she recalled.

  “We were a bit snotty, weren’t we?” Magdalena agreed with a snort. “Your father never put up with it, though. He was a master at redirecting the conversation, and none of us were the wiser.”

  “My father is a good man,” Mary agreed wistfully.

  “You miss him? Philadelphia?” Magdalena asked.

  Mary sighed, dropping her eyes to her plate.

  The table was quiet. Jim cleared his throat.

  Magdalena reached for her friend’s hand. “There’s no shame in missing your home, Mary, or your family. Sometimes circumstances change—“ Magdalena paused, wondering if it was Mary or herself she was referring to.

  “I know,” Mary whispered, blinking rapidly. “I’m just not ready to make any decisions about my future just yet.”

  Magdalena squeezed her hand. “And that’s perfectly okay.” She assured her.

  “What about your day?” Mary asked. “How are things at the orphanage?”

  Magdalena pulled her hand back, picking up her fork. “Complicated.”

  “What do you mean?” Lance asked.

  “Well, we’re making great progress with the children,” a smile lit Magdalena’s face. “Frankly I could not have imagined how well the children would take to learning—or how incredibly smart they are. A few of them are like sponges—“ a sad cloud crossed her face before she visibly forced a smile. “It makes me wonder why God designed some of us to be born into families of means—and some into families with almost nothing—and yet others without even a family.” She finished softly, moving her food around her plate.

  “What happens at the end of the remainder of your time?” Jim asked, curious.

  “I’m not sure, Jim. That’s where it gets complicated,” she explained. “The children need consistent education if it’s going to truly make a difference. A few of them—well, I think a few of them are quite gifted.” She risked a glance at Lance. “Raphael is very smart. He’s one of my sponges,” she smiled. “I don’t know what his story is, and Sister Theresa won’t say, but he consumes knowledge like it’s going to be snatched away from him at any moment.”

  Lance nodded, then smiled. “He’s an amazing little boy, there’s no doubt. Whenever I’m at the orphanage, he follows me around like a puppy, and wants to know the reason behind everything I’m doing, and why.”

  “I noticed.” Magdalena grinned. “He’s very curious and quite taken with you. You’re his hero.”

  “Many of these children have little to no memory of their families, and although the Sisters do everything they can, the children need more male figures in their lives.” He confessed.

  “That’s why you come by so often?” Magdalena asked.

  “That’s part of it,” he agreed. “The children live in such close quarters that I try to be diligent about being available to them for medical issues. As you know,” he glanced at Magdalena,” once one child becomes ill, it goes through the orphanage like a wildfire. The sisters are more careful about the first signs of sickness now, but even that doesn’t always make enough of a difference.”

  Magdalena turned back to Jim. “So to answer your question, I’m not really sure what happens when my three months are up.”

  “Why don’t you stay? Continue teaching?” He asked.

  “It’s not an option. You have to be a sister or volunteer at the orphanage if you’re not a nun. I—I have to return to Philadelphia.”

  Jim cocked his head at her, “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.” Was all she offered. “What about you?” She turned her attention toward Lance. “How was your day, Doctor Holloway?” He’d been staring at her while she talked, and her cheeks were red.

  “It was a quiet day. I had to check on a patient out this way, so stopped in to say hello. Mary kindly invited us to stay for dinner.”

  Magdalena cast a sideways glance at Mary. “I hope your patient is all right,” she commented, her eyes moving back to the doctor’s.

  He nodded, never taking his eyes from hers.

  TWENTY

  “He’s disconcerting.”

  Mary laughed. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you like this, Magdalena.”

  Magdalena shuddered. “This whole ultimatum from my father has thrown me for a loop. I don’t know what to do about it and now I’m down to just six weeks.” She protested. “It’s nothing more than that.” She insisted.

  “Claire’s returning from Philadelphia today,” Mary stated.

  “She is? How do you know?”

  “I received a letter from her, but there must have been a delay. It just arrived today, and she sent it over two weeks ago. Sully completed his work with the governor, and of course, he couldn’t wait to get back to Bareglen Creek.”

  “Of course,” Magdalena smiled. “Claire told me that he loves being a sheriff here more than anything.”

  “He does, and he’s a good one. The crime in this town is way down, and the odd thing is, I think even the criminals respect him.”

  “It will be good to see Claire. Do you think she’ll be rested enough by tomorrow that we could go visit her?”

  “if she doesn’t beat us to it.” Mary giggled. “She asked me how you were doing—and obviously I didn’t have a chance to respond yet. She also suggested that she’d like it if you spent some time with her at their house in town.”

  “I can’t do that,” Magdalena protested. They’re newlyweds.” Her face glowed pink.

  “They are all that,” Mary agreed with an eyebrow raised, “but Sully often has to be away for days at a time, depending on circumstances, and I think Claire finds that lonely. If she invites you, you should absolutely take her up on it.”

  “You’re just saying that so I’ll be closer to Lance—Doctor Holloway,” Magdalena corrected quickly.

  ‘Yes, well, Sister Theresa mentioned they’ve been seeing more of him since you started teaching there…” Mary suggested.

  “Hogwash,” Magdalena protested. “He loves those children and they love him.” She paused. “He seems really happy when he’s with them—less intense.” She added.

  “Good Lord, he and Lee Jamison have the corner on the market for that,” Mary agreed, rolling her eyes.

  “Yes, well, I can’t abide by it,” Magdalena confessed. “I’ve grown up in a house ruled by a physician my entire life and if I wanted to marry—which I don’t—the last person in the world I would want to marry is a doctor.” She announced with finality.

  Mary groaned. “There are no two people alike in this world, Mags, just like there are no two doctors or farmers or lawyers alike. You’re an intelligent woman and you know that,” Mary scolded gently.

  “Regardless, the last thing I need in my life is a husband—especially not a domineering, know-it-all who likes to boss me around and just so happens to be a doctor!”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “Not all men are like that, Mags. My husband—he was a good man—and sweet and kind. He was bossy at times, but I knew it came from his desire to protect me and love me. If I could go to Philadelphia and scold your father for the harm, he has caused—I would—but I can’t. So all I can do is hope to talk some sense into his daughter for letting this situation impact her judgment.”

  Magdalena scowled at Mary. Mary scowled back.

  “The truth is, sometimes I was grateful for the moments when he told me to do something simply because he knew it was best fo
r me… even when I didn’t want to. Even when I was too stubborn to see it,” Mary admitted.

  Jim walked in just in time. “Wow, what’s going on?” He asked with concern.

  “Nothing.” Both women murmured simultaneously.

  “Women,” Jim muttered under his breath as he made his way to his room, “you can’t live with ‘em and you can’t live without ‘em.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Raphael, please get back to your seat, now!” Magdalena scolded. This was one of those days when nothing went right, and the children seemed restless and sullen.

  Magdalena knew she was pushing them to try to complete the curriculum on time, but what other option was there? She didn’t know who might replace her—or even if anyone would. She felt desperate to impart as much knowledge to these children as she could before she had to leave.

  Suddenly she heard a ruckus in the schoolyard and quickly walked to the door, shrinking back when she saw five men on horses with guns drawn. Sister Theresa walked calmly toward the man whose horse was in the lead.

  Magdalena nudged the door closed, keeping it ajar just enough to watch what was happening through a crack. When she heard the gunshot and Sister Theresa drop to the ground, she closed it completely and locked it.

  She quickly glanced around the classroom assessing who was old enough and mature enough to sneak out the back of the classroom and carry out her instructions. She heard a knocking at the door and decided: “Raphael! You and Jose must leave through the backdoor. I want you to crawl through the grass to the trail behind the schoolroom and once you reach the trees run toward the town. Do not stop until you reach the sheriff, do you understand me?”

  Both boys nodded, eyes wide.

  “Repeat back to me what you are going to do.” She demanded.

  “We will sneak out the back door and crawl through the grass to the wooded trail,” Raphael repeated.

  “Then we’ll run as fast as we can to the sheriff and bring him back,” Jose whispered.

  “Go!” She demanded, opening the back door for them, whispering, “Quietly, and Godspeed!”

  She closed the door behind them and turned to the children.

  “We know that lying is wrong, is that right?”

  The children nodded yes.

  “But this—this is not lying. This is protecting two of our own. We are the only ones who are here and no one has left us. Do you understand?”

  The children nodded.

  “I do not want anyone to speak. Not even one of you. I am the teacher and I am the only one who will speak,” she instructed before the front door of the schoolroom burst open, splintering the wood where the lock once held.

  Three men busted through the door and into the classroom.

  Magdalena stood in front of the children, placing herself between the men and her wards, desperate to quell the shaking she felt all the way to her bones.

  “What do you want?” She asked, arms crossed, standing tall.

  The lead man sneered at her, pushing her aside, walking into the classroom.

  “Estamos buscando un niño.” He demanded.

  “I don’t speak Spanish,” Magdalena replied.

  “We are looking for a child,” the man repeated in English.

  “The child you seek is not here,” she deadpanned.

  His eyes narrowed. “How do you know who I seek?” He asked.

  “There are only orphans here,” Magdalena clarified, unmovable.

  He walked past each of the tables, examining each of the children.

  “My son was taken from me,” he explained. “He is eight years old, small for his age, and he has brown eyes. His name is Pablo.” He sneered.

  “There is no Pablo here, sir, nor has there been since I have been here.” She confirmed confidently.

  He circled her, slowly.

  Magdalena closed her eyes, desperate to quell the fear rolling down her spine. Desperate to persuade him to leave.

  He grabbed her arm and jerked her toward him. She bit her lip to stop from crying out. “Are you lying to me, señorita?” His hand squeezed her arm tight, painfully.

  “No,” she whispered. “There is no Pablo here, I promise you.”

  The children watched the men with wide eyes. Magdalena’s gaze swept over them, and pride swelled in her chest. They were being so brave—far braver than she felt.

  The Spanish man moved his face within inches from hers. “If I find out you are lying, señorita, I will be back and I will make you and all your children sorry—do you understand me?”

  Magdalena gulped, then whispered. “I am not lying. There is no Pablo here. Now please, go, and let me teach my children. This is an orphanage, and the Sisters are Saints.”

  The man laughed cruelly, then shoved Magdalena back toward the desks. She fell to the floor, her head slamming against a chair, but she managed to glare at him.

  The men backed out of the schoolroom, and Magdalena breathed a sigh of relief. Jose spoke up, “But Miss. A—“

  “Shh!” She demanded her finger to her lips. Magdalena stood, then moved to the door in time to watch the men leap onto their horses, then ride away.

  “Children, stay in your seats,” she instructed as soon as the men rode away. Magdalena raced into the yard, “Sister Theresa,” she cried.

  The Sister moaned, blood pooling behind her left shoulder. “They are here for Raphael,” she whispered. Do not let them find him.” Then her head dropped to the ground.

  Two of the Sisters ran out from the main building.

  “Help me get her inside. Sister Margaret, please go stay with the children and keep them quiet.”

  Magdalena struggled to lift Sister Theresa with the other sister’s help. Once inside she urged, “Go—get some rags. We must stop the bleeding until Doctor Holloway can get here.”

  The sister ran toward the kitchen, and Magdalena pressed her hand against the Sister’s shoulder. “Stay with me, Sister. Dear God, please—please help us,” she prayed.

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Stay with me, Sister Theresa,” Magdalena encouraged, tears welling in her eyes. The sister’s breathing was shallow, and she’d lost a lot of blood despite Magdalena’s efforts to keep the rag tight against her shoulder.

  Magdalena’s dress was covered in blood, and she nearly cried when she heard the thundering sound of horses hooves pounding the ground. “Sister Margaret, go get them,” She urged, startling the sister into action. “Hurry!”

  Within a minute, two men burst through the door—one Sheriff Sully and the other Doc Holloway.

  “Magdalena?” Lance Holloway rushed to her side, his hands moving her face toward him, his eyes searching over her body, pausing at the blood on her dress. Magdalena felt as though she were enshrouded in a haze. “I—I’m okay. It’s Sister Theresa, she’s been shot. I—I tried to stop the bleeding, but—,”

  Sheriff Sully gently moved Magdalena aside, settling her in a chair by the corner. Then he and Doc Holloway went to work on Sister Theresa.

  “The bullet passed through,” the relief in the doctor’s voice was palpable. “But she’s lost a lot of blood.” Then he proceeded to bark orders at Sully, who moved in beside him and together they worked in tandem, trying to save Sister Theresa. Sister Margaret brought them boiling water and additional clean clothes.

  “Magdalena—Magdalena!” Doctor Holloway’s insistent voice pulled her back to the present from a faraway place.

  “Y—yes?”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” He asked, risking a quick look at her with worry-filled eyes.

  “Yes, I wasn’t shot. I’m sorry,” she managed. “What can I do to help?” She asked.

  “Sister Angelica is with the children,” Sister Margaret offered.

  “Are Raphael and Jose back?” Magdalena asked.

  “Yes, they are all together in the classroom.” She confirmed.

  “I’ll go to them,” Magdalena offered, yet she didn’t move.

  Sister Margaret
walked over to her and knelt down. “Miss. Allen, you’re in shock, and you need to change before you to go the children,” she encouraged softly.

  Magdalena looked down at her dress and saw the blood-soaked stains, then looked back at the sister.

  “I’ll get something for you. Come with me,” Sister Margaret held Magdalena’s hands for a moment, then gently urged her to stand.

  Magdalena stood, then swayed, reaching her hand against the wall to steady herself.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” The sister asked. “The children said one of the men tossed you to the floor and you hit your head.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, I’m fine,” Magdalena answered crossly. “Let’s go.”

  The sheriff exchanged a glance with the doctor as the women turned to leave.

  “Sheriff?” Magdalena stopped suddenly.

  “Yes, Magdalena?”

  “Sister Theresa said it was Raphael that they were after, but they asked for a boy named Pablo. I told them there was no boy here by that name, but I think they will be back.”

  “You did the right thing, Magdalena. I’ll take care of it. I’ll need to speak with you as soon as I’m through here.” He added, his eyes assessing her.

  She nodded, gratefully accepting Sister Margaret’s support as they left the room.

  Once outside, Claire ran to Magdalena’s side, hugging her tightly. “Magdalena—are you all right?” She asked, pushing her out to arm’s length, taking in her blood-soaked dress.

  “Claire?” Magdalena cried, hugging her friend back as her body began to shiver. “I’m okay. This isn’t my blood, it’s Sister Theresa’s,” she admitted, her eyes dazed.

  “She’s in shock,” Sister Margaret said, "and the children said she hit her head on a chair when the bad man shoved her.”

  Magdalena’s hand went to her head, and she winced. “It was nothing. I’m fine,” she protested. “Help me find something to change into—I should be with the children.”

  “Some town’s women are with them, Magdalena. They are fine. Come with me. I’ll take you home and find you something to wear.” Claire insisted.