8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Justin rubbed at his eyes. He'd been up early, unable to sleep. All he could think about was Charlotte and August, together. Not for even a moment would he let himself listen to the little whisper in his mind that told him that he liked Charlotte. No, that voice got pushed away as far as he could get it.

It would be highly inappropriate, both to develop feelings for his employee, or to put her in a compromising position. It also might jeopardize her happiness. That's all he wanted, to see Charlotte happy, and smiling.

Even if that wasn't with him, as much as it pained him to say.

The door opened, and he heard her footsteps as she entered the office. He'd memorized the sound. He was a fool. Falling in love with a woman who would never look at him that way.

Justin sighed, then came out from the storage room, where he'd been checking his supplies.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

"Good morning," Charlotte answered. "Did I see you in the storage room? Do you need help with anything?"

"Yes, your help would be appreciated. I was starting a list of items that I need. I will either fetch them myself from Cottonwood Falls or send for them next week," he told her. "I don't like to get too low on supplies, especially in the winter."

"That makes a lot of sense," she agreed, and draped her shawl on her chair. As she unwound her scarf, he caught sight of a scrap of blue.

"That's a lovely ribbon you have in your hair," he said. She'd weaved it into a braid, and it looked quite beautiful.

"Thank you," she said, her cheeks turning bright red. "It was a gift. From August."

"From—" Justin stopped. From August? From August ? It hadn't been. It had been from him! But fool that he was, he hadn't wanted to put his name on it. Hadn't wanted her to feel obligated or uncomfortable. So, of course she'd think it was from August.

He closed his eyes a moment, then opened them and forced cheerfulness into his voice. "The color suits you. "

"Oh! What's this?" Charlotte asked. She held up a blue cushion that had been placed in her chair.

"Ah, well, you sit so much, I was hoping that would make your chair more comfortable," Justin said. "It is sturdy, but also rather hard."

He'd bought the cushion yesterday afternoon, the same time he'd bought the ribbon. Did she notice the colors matched?

"Thank you! I appreciate this so much," Charlotte said. "I can sit on it, or use it for my back. It was very thoughtful of you."

"It was my pleasure," Justin mumbled, and turned away. He tried to feel glad that at least she'd liked the gifts, but he stung too much, still hurt that she hadn't realized the ribbon was from him. He had hoped she'd have remembered.

Yesterday, she'd wished that she had something to tie her hair back with. True, she hadn't known he'd overheard her muttering to herself. But, he'd remembered, and knowing that he could make her life better with such a trifle, was more than happy to do so. A rich man he was not, but a pastry each day and a ribbon? That he could do.

But of course, she thought it was August. It was always August. He couldn't stand the man, and couldn't bear hearing his name over and over.

"Oh! Justin," Charlotte said suddenly .

"Yes?" he asked. His breath caught as he looked at her. Her eyes were so clear, her face filled with sweetness, despite her hardships. She needed someone to care for her, to treat her well. That was why he loathed the idea of her being with a despicable man like August Middleton.

Justin took a deep breath. He needed to stop thinking such thoughts. It wasn't right to feel anger and envy.

"Mama wouldn't admit it, but she seemed down in her spirits this morning. Would you mind stopping by to check on her?"

"Of course," he said. "Actually…" Justin walked over and looked at the schedule. "I thought so. Just before lunch, we've no patients. Would you be able to manage here while I went then? I'll ride and be back before our patients after lunch."

"Oh, yes! That would make me feel so much better," Charlotte said, sagging in relief. "Thank you."

Anything more they might have said was saved for later, as the first patient arrived. Justin went about his morning, and tried to ignore the ache that filled him. He'd never been in love before, but he'd seen how it affected others. However, instead of the joy and happiness and light mood, like Charlotte had when she thought about August, he had the blackness, the aching heart. Unrequited love, a novel might say.

The morning dragged on, and it was a welcome relief for him to step outside of his office, bag in hand, and head toward Charlotte's home. As usual, she had worked hard in the office that morning. She was an incredible help. However, also as usual, her eyes would seek through the window toward the festival poster. Or perhaps they sought August.

Justin couldn't wait until this festival was over.

But the thought made his step falter. When it was…what then? Would Charlotte be courting? Engaged? Have a date to marry the man he knew was all wrong for her? She couldn't see that, though he wished she did.

He moved faster toward his horse. Because he was cold, he told himself. Not because he was trying to outpace those thoughts constantly tormenting him.

After a time, the Harrison place appeared through the trees, and he went up the worn steps. He knocked, then let his eyes take in the large home. It must have been fine back in its day. It looked to be four or five bedrooms at least. Though he'd not seen much beyond the kitchen on his previous visit, he was sure the home had brought pleasure to the Harrisons.

The door swung open just then. "Mrs. Harrison." He smiled. "Charlotte told me you were not feeling well."

"Oh," the older woman faltered. She shook her head and then shrugged. "Come in, Dr. Davis." She stepped back, then asked, "Join me in the kitchen for some tea?"

As he followed her into the warmth of the kitchen, she bustled about and soon brought over two steaming cups .

"Thank you," he said, wrapping his fingers around one of them. "Just when I think it can't get any colder outside, it surprises me."

Mrs. Harrison laughed. It didn't quite meet her eyes. "You are quite right," she agreed.

"Now then," Justin said, setting down his cup and looking at her carefully. "Tell me, how are you? You don't appear to be in ill health, but I can tell something isn't quite right."

"No, my health is fine. Though, perhaps I should say my physical health is not the problem. My emotions are distressed, that is all, and no need to worry." She gave a soft sigh and shook her head. "It's hard at times not to feel sorry for one's self in the circumstances life sees fit to give you."

Justin nodded. "I understand what you mean. I've been feeling that way myself as of late. Perhaps it's the weather. Cloudy skies lead to cloudy moods."

Charlotte's mother nodded. "Indeed. It has been rather overcast. It's also likely the festival talk that has me feeling down. These moods will pass. They always do. It's difficult at times to see others enjoying themselves, carefree, when your own worries cluster about you."

Her words were said not with self pity, but a practicality he understood. In fact, he couldn't have said them any better himself.

"This festival." Justin tried not to grind out his words, though he felt the bad taste in his mouth at them. "That's all anyone seems to talk about. The young women of this town seem near half out of their senses, the young men the same. There's more giggling than talking. Even in my older patients."

Mrs. Harrison laughed again, but this time her face lit up. "Yes, I suppose the tradition might seem odd to you, but it is the bright spot for the young folks. It's a chance for them to declare in front of the town the person they choose to spend time with. Of course, there are many courtships that take place at other times, but the young folk enjoy dressing up in their finery, strolling through the town and sampling the food and beverages, looking at the things for sale and just enjoying the day. It's a nice social event for all, and helps to ease the stretch between Christmas and spring, where there is little ahead but dreariness and cold weather."

Justin rubbed at his eyes. "Just the same, I will be glad when it's over," he told her.

Mrs. Harrison's considering gaze, filled with warmth and understanding, filled him with something he realized he missed dearly. The chance to confide in someone. Being so far from his family, and not having made any friends just yet, left him with more burdens than he had shoulders for, at times.

"Tell me, Doctor," she said. "What has you so distraught?"

The temptation to tell of his adoration for Charlotte, and his desire to know her better, weighed heavily upon him. He longed to tell her how he despised the man Charlotte set her gaze on. To explain how his heart ached from the fact the object of his affection didn't even notice him, though she was all he could think about.

But Justin merely smiled, made sure his features were composed, and reassured her. "It's just a bit of winter melancholy."