The Problem Child (Emerson Pass Historicals 4)

That afternoon,I was coming out of the bank to head to my parents’ for lunch when I saw Addie Barnes sitting on the steps of her father’s office building. Slumped over her legs, I thought at first she might be asleep.

“Addie?” I asked as I approached. “Why aren’t you at school?”

She lifted her head to look at me. My stomach clenched at the sight of her wan face and purple smudges under her eyes. She blinked a few times as if trying to remember who I was.

I drew closer. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m waiting here until lunch is over. At school,” she added, as if I were unsure about where she should be at this very moment.

Was that allowed? When we were in school, Miss Cooper would never have let us leave the premises unless one of us had to go home to help our parents. “Does your teacher know?”

She looked away, evasive. “I don’t think she noticed.”

I sat on the steps near her. “Why wouldn’t you want to stay at school for lunch?” Had one of the children done something to her? Driven her away?

“I’m not feeling well. I don’t want to be around food.”

“Your stomach hurts?” I asked.

She nodded and then folded over, resting her forehead on her knees.

I scooted closer. “How about if I take you home? You should be in bed.”

She made a listless sound and then fell over onto her side. My pulse raced as I scooped her up in my arms and headed back across the street to where my car was parked in back of the bank. She weighed no more than one of the rocks Cym and I had used for training that morning.

Mrs. Johnson was outside her store sweeping the sidewalk. She stopped what she was doing to come scurrying toward me. “Viktor, can I help?”

“Can you call out to the Barnes house for me? Tell them I’ve got Addie and she’s not well. I’m going to take her over to see one of the doctors.”

“I saw both doctors head out earlier on house calls,” Mrs. Johnson said. “I’ll call around to see if I can find one of them after I call out to Quinn’s house. Take Addie home. She’ll be more comfortable there. As soon as I get either Theo or Dr. Neal, I’ll send them out to the house.”

“How will you know where to look for the doctors?”

She waved me away. “I know everything that goes on around here.”

I knew this to be true. Mrs. Johnson was one of the mothers in our town. All of us obeyed her without question, as we would have Mrs. Barnes, Mrs. Cassidy, and my own mother.

The ground was frozen in the parking lot behind the bank. My nice shoes had slippery soles, so I walked with care even though my instinct was to run as fast as I could.

I put her in the back seat and covered her with a blanket I had in the back. Her pink scalp showed through her thin hair. She was sick. Very sick. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was starving to death.

By the time I reached the Barneses’, both Lord and Mrs. Barnes were waiting by the front entrance. I parked and got out to help them carry Addie inside but Lord Barnes beat me to it, lifting Addie up out of the back and heading across the driveway with his wife following at his heels. It’s not a scene I would soon forget, I thought, as I traipsed behind them. Tall, powerful Lord Barnes with his tiny daughter in his arms seemed as helpless as the sick child he carried.

Once inside the foyer, I ripped off my hat and told them what I knew as quickly as the words would come out of mouth.

“She was just sitting there?” Mrs. Barnes asked.

“Looking dazed,” I said. “We might want to call the school. I’m not sure her teacher knows where she went.”

“I’ll do it, if you can take her upstairs,” Mrs. Barnes said to her husband.

I stood there, awkward, unsure if I should stay or go, then remembered that Mrs. Johnson had said she would try to find one of the doctors. “Did Mrs. Johnson tell you she would call around and send one of the doctors out immediately?”

“Yes, she did. I can’t thank you enough, Viktor. You seem to always be right where we need you when we need you. Will you do me a favor and go down and tell Lizzie and Jasper what’s going on?”

“Yes, of course.”

She turned away to use the telephone. I knew my way and took the stairs two at a time down to the kitchen. Lizzie and Jasper were there, eating lunch at the table in the corner. Scents of herbs and butter made my stomach growl. Steam rose from a pot on the stove. The small window on the door that led outside was covered in fog.

“Viktor, what on earth’s brought you around?” Lizzie stood, wiping her hands on the front of her apron.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, but Mrs. Barnes sent me down to tell you that I’ve come home with Addie.” I shrugged out of my coat, hot in the warm room. “She’s sick.” I once again gave my account of what had happened.

Jasper had risen by now as well and gone to the stove to put the kettle on. He moved silently, like a stealth animal. I’d not seen or heard him move.

“The wee girl. She needs to eat more,” Lizzie said, fretting. “I make all her favorites, but lately she just pushes it all away. There’s something wrong.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything further. What was there to say? I knew nothing of the situation, only that it was dire. They already knew that.

Jasper excused himself to go upstairs to help Mrs. Barnes with whatever she needed.

“My poor husband. He worries himself sick over all the children.” The teapot whistled, and Lizzie scampered over to take it from the stove. “He thinks of them as partly our kids, you know.”

“You’ve been with the family a long time,” I said. “It’s understandable.”

“Have you eaten lunch?” Lizzie wore her silver-and-brown hair in a bun at the back of her neck. There was always something a little messy about her, as if she were in too much of a hurry to worry about tidiness. Today, she had a smudge of flour on her neck and what looked like berry jam in her hair. Her round cheeks were pink, and a sheen of perspiration shone from her forehead. As she grew older, she grew plumper and jollier. Soon, she would look like Mrs. Claus from one of the picture books I’d enjoyed as a child.

“No, ma’am. I was headed to my mother’s when I saw her.”

“Oh dear me. Have a seat. I’ll put a plate together.”

Mere minutes later I was seated at the table with heaps of potatoes, carrots, and roast beef on my plate. “This is very kind of you,” I said. “But I feel terrible imposing on you this way.”

Lizzie patted my shoulder. “Think nothing of it, young man. You’ve done enough for this family that you’re welcome anytime. Would you like a biscuit?”

“I couldn’t pass up one of your biscuits.” I picked up my fork and dug in. The meat melted on my tongue. “Lizzie, no one cooks like you.”

“Bless you,” Lizzie said. “I wish little Addie would think so.”

“How long has she been like this?” I asked.

“Months now. Lately she’s worse.” Lizzie poured herself a cup of tea and sat down across from me. “I can’t help but feel it’s my fault. If only I could tempt her with a recipe.”

I swallowed a soft, sweet carrot. “I’m sure it’s nothing to do with your cooking. She must be sick.”

“Theo will fix her. He has to. We couldn’t bear to lose her.” She scooped another spoonful of sugar into her tea and stirred. “Do you know she was the sweetest of all the babies born in this house. Barely made a peep. Never cried. Mrs. Barnes used to go into the nursery at night to make sure she was still breathing. The little angel would be fast asleep. She was the prettiest baby, too. Fat with those big blue eyes. I don’t understand what’s happened.”

What words of comfort could I provide? From what I’d seen today, we all had reason to worry.