5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“ T hank you for coming later in the day.” Willa fidgeted nervously on the parlor’s smaller sofa. “The entire household slept in after last night’s festivities.”

“As did ours,” Noah replied, rummaging through the black leather bag he had brought with him. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“I di—”

A crash in the hallway and Bonnie’s harsh berating of the person responsible drowned out Willa’s answer. “Stupid girl!” Bonnie shouted. “Watch what you’re doing.”

Willa rose from her sofa and closed the door, not exactly worried over the societal rules of propriety. If Noah were locked away with Lucy, it would be another story, but as it was only her, no one would be concerned.

“Sounds like everyone is a little tired today.” Noah extracted an instrument and laid it on the table. “Or does your housekeeper usually not allow the staff to slip up from time to time.”

“Bonnie isn’t our housekeeper. She’s more like my mother’s personal companion. She’s also very particular about how Haven House should be run. Even more so than Ms. Graham, our actual housekeeper.” Willa returned to her seat, slightly nervous over what to expect from him today. “ And what you heard was Bonnie scolding some Port Michaelson girls who were hired to help with The Gathering. I hear the plan is to have them stay on through the holidays, so Bonnie is likely just getting them up to snuff on how she expects things done.”

Noah’s profile was to her, and the wry smile on his lips dimmed slightly. “Yes, I met a few of them last night.”

“The Port Michaelson girls?”

“Those are the ones.”

Willa released a noise that clearly expressed how unimpressed she was by his tone, and even though it might seem a bit pathetic for her to be jealous, that didn’t change the fact that she was.

Smoothing a hand down the skirt of her mossy green afternoon dress, Willa got ahold of herself. “The one named Jennie is the prettiest. My brother falls all over himself whenever she comes by with deliveries.”

“I noticed her.”

“It’s hard not to.” She tried to sound flippant and slightly bored. It wasn’t working. “Notice her, I mean.”

Turning around, the half-smirk that seemed permanently affixed to his mouth returned. “How was your conversation with Richards?”

Lucy had brought John Richards over twice, and both times were unmemorable. They spoke little, with him chatting more with her sister than with her.

“Lovely.”

“It didn’t appear lovely to me.”

“And I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

Amused by her quick reply, he came to sit on the sofa with her, taking up a significant amount of space. “If a man is near you, Willa, you should always assume you have an audience.”

If her brows shot up any faster, they would have flown right off her head and across the room. “I don’t know what you mean.”

And she didn’t. Truly. No man who had entered the kingdom of Haven House ever paid her attention. Nor had any man who she interacted with on visits to town .

His insinuation bordered on teasing, and Willa’s guard went up. Being ridiculed constantly by her father required her defenses to be at the ready every second of the day, and those well-worn walls of self-preservation slid into place easily.

Noah hesitated before speaking again. “I mean that it is difficult for a man’s attention not to gravitate towards a woman like you.”

“A woman like me?” Her temper snapped its teeth, preparing to take a bite out of him. “An invalid looming on the stairs, you mean.”

His smirk evaporated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” Chin high, she wouldn’t allow him to see how deeply his words cut. “Why else would any man—”

“You can’t be serious.”

“—be drawn to watch—”

“You are serious.”

“—a woman like me.”

He laughed.

Loudly.

It burst right out of him, booming as forcefully as the thunder had in the night. She tried to ignore it and keep a straight face rather than sigh over how his eyes crinkled in their corners when he was happy.

“I will have you stop laughing at me now, Dr. Anderson.”

The mischief in his gaze lingered, but he quieted. “I’m not laughing at you, but at me.”

When she didn’t respond, the gleam in those imposing blue eyes of his turned dark, almost predatorial. It reminded her of the look Bonnie’s cats got when there was easy prey within reach.

“And why are you laughing at yourself?”

Arranging the stethoscope in his ears, he placed the receiving end on her chest without warning or permission. One moment, he was sitting straight, and the next, he was leaning precariously close.

“Because it’s been so long since I’ve paid a woman a compliment, it would appear that I no longer have the finesse for it as I once did.” His brows snapped together, a frown overtaking him while he listened. “Your heartbeat sounds rather erratic. Are you feeling alright?”

“Don’t do that.”

Yanking one of the earpieces of the stethoscope loose, he scanned her quickly. “You’re not alright, are you?”

His concern was shattering, heartbreaking to a dizzying degree. It was his profession—to care, to treat, to want her to be at her best.

But with his confession of genuinely paying her a compliment, Willa had been swiftly whisked into a place she dare not ever tread. An enchanting false reality where a man such as Noah Anderson would see her as something other than a fragile enigma. That he would see her as a woman. Not a problem, not a bother, nor even a burden to be rid of, but as a woman. A woman he wanted to pay a compliment to.

“For the hundredth time, I’m fine, Dr. Anderson.”

“Noah, please.”

She shook her head stupidly, so very lost in the possibilities staring back at her. He could never be Noah again. It was to be Dr. Anderson forever. The formality made the relationship as it should be. Doctor and patient. To now call him Noah—to have his given name on her lips—would be torture for sure. Using his given name would provide her with a sick sense of hope, and if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that hope had no place at Haven House.

It had no place with her.

After the dances, she had obviously fooled herself into believing he was merely being kind. But this openly flirtatious side of him would be her downfall. Death by means of a handsome face.

“I was taken aback by the stethoscope.” She turned away, patting her loosely braided bun as if it were going to come undone due to her lack of composure. “Mr. Abernathy’s is nothing like the one you have.”

Pulling it completely loose, he held it out for her to see. “Try it.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I insist. The last thing I want is for you to feel uneasy with my instruments.”

Beyond the parlor’s front windows, Cal and Lucy caught her attention. They were talking on the porch, brother and sister, in the afternoon sun. Happy. They looked so very happy. A golden pair enjoying the fading warmth of the day.

The hope she was already attempting to squash died as she watched her siblings. They had their whole lives ahead of them while she had nothing. “Your instruments do not disturb me, Dr. Anderson. I’ve been poked and prodded by more nefarious things. A stethoscope is a toy in comparison.”

Settling back on the cushions, he observed Cal and Lucy with her. “Tell me about it.”

“There's nothing much to tell.” Willa smiled as Lucy threw her head back, laughing at something Cal said. She looked like Grace just then, reminding her, and likely Cal, of happier times. “I promise you that my stories are boring.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“And why do you doubt it?”

“Because they’re yours.”

Clever man. But two could play his game. “I was born. I grew up.”

“Do you mean to quote me Dickens, Ms. Fairweather?”

“Be sure to visit Haven House at Christmastime, Dr. Anderson.” She smiled serenely, masking the pain as she continued to bury it from the light as she always did. “Everyone gathers to hear me read A Christmas Carol aloud. I’ve been told I’m positively riveting.”

He regarded her quietly for a moment, then replied with a serious tone, “Yes, but do you change your voice for the different characters? Only a true storyteller would.”

“Oh, yes, and I also have wardrobe pieces, thank you very much.”

“Good.” He returned his stethoscope to his ears, feigning professionalism once again. “I would expect nothing less from Wilhelmina Fairweather. ”

He spoke as if they had been acquainted for ages. As if they had known each other through the ups and downs of their journey. Surprisingly, it did feel that way.

And she really knew nothing about him.

“I’ve told you my story, Dr. Anderson.” Willa held still as he listened to her heart, praying it had returned to a normal rhythm. “Let’s hear yours.”

“You’ve given me very little, Ms. Fairweather.” He straightened and wrote something down in the notebook perched on his thigh. His very muscular thigh. “But since it seems you’ve mastered the art of deflecting, I suppose I’ll take pity on you.”

He was annoyed by her lack of elaboration on the treatments she’d received but was too much of a gentleman to push. The contrast intrigued her. “Do tell.”

“I was born…”

It was her turn to laugh openly. “Are you mocking me?”

“Most certainly,” he replied. “Now, open your mouth.”

It was always the same thing. They wanted to see if there was something constricting her throat. A growth in the inner lining of the mouth. Anything they could attribute her breathing issues to other than asthma.

“In addition to Mr. Abernathy, I saw two physicians when I was younger, and they also checked my mouth and throat. There’s nothing there. I have asthma, and that is all.”

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing as if she were between the hairs of a crossbow. The doctor very much did not like being told no. “Open your mouth, please.”

“I assure you I have a completely normal—”

He gripped her chin, catching her off guard once more. “ Open for me.”

The demand gave no room for thought, nor did his strong fingers forcing her jaw open. Eyes wide, and taken aback, she obeyed. There was no fighting, no fussing. The muscles in her jaw simply went lax, opening for him as ordered.

“Ah, is that how it’s to be?” His deep voice dropped an octave, and scanning her throat, his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I think you take great joy in being contradictory.”

The swipe of his tongue across that perfectly formed full bottom lip nearly had Willa groaning. The movement was so very chaste, yet the most carnal thing she had ever witnessed. A throbbing heat speared low in her belly, and she squirmed, unable to hold still.

“But if that’s how you wish to proceed with our sessions, then I am ready and more than capable of rising to the challenge,” he continued, this time grazing his teeth over said lip. “In fact, I feel as though I might rather enjoy it.” His gaze rose slowly to meet her own. “I think you will, too.”

Staring at him, something tugged at the heart buried deep in her chest. It burned hot and fast, the pressure of its heat squeezing her very soul.

Noah released his hold on her chin. “Don’t you agree?”

Agree?

Agree to what?

“Y-yes?” she stammered, wondering what in the world was wrong with her. Overheated. Yes, that must be it. She had simply become overheated while he examined her throat. Obviously, it was stifling in the room since Noah—Dr. Anderson—removed his coat directly upon arriving, and the heat was going straight to her head.

“Good.” Rising from the sofa, Noah returned to his bag left propped on one of the parlor’s end tables. “You have a small amount of scar tissue in the back of your throat. Can you tell me how that happened?”

“No?” She swallowed, not feeling anything. “I would often choke on my food when I was little, and then the whole episode would go straight into a breathing attack. Mr. Abernathy told me it was there, even though I don’t feel it. He said it was probably from overexerting myself while coughing. ”

Noah made a rumbling noise, and she couldn’t tell if the sound meant that he agreed with the assessment or not. “Do you have scars anywhere else on your body?” he asked.

“No?” Why did she sound so unsure? It was her blasted body, and she would know if there were scars somewhere. “No.”

“Hmm, perhaps I should conduct a more thorough examination. We might need to bring your mother in to chaperone for this next part.”

Good heavens.

“Is that type of exam really necessary?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Willa nearly shouted in relief when Lucy barged in waving a piece of paper. “Mr. Richards is coming for a visit!”

“Why?” It was a stupid question. Willa knew exactly why. She had made the short list of possible wives. “I mean, when?”

“Father just received word.” Winded, Lucy paused to catch her breath. “In two days. He’s going to spend the afternoon with us.”

The zipper on Noah’s bag zinged closed with such finality that both she and Lucy turned to him. “I’m also scheduled to return in two days for a follow-up,” he said.

Lucy’s face fell. “Well, surely you can come on a different day?”

“Today was about gaining baseline measurements on your sister’s overall health, but there is much more work to do.”

Assessing the abrupt change in him, Willa tilted her head. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was jealous. “And what do you plan to do with me, Dr. Anderson?”

Noah fixed his gaze on her. “I mean to test your limits, Ms. Fairweather. I hope you’re ready.”