“You are wasting your breath, Maggie.” Franz walked into the room, still buttoning his cuffs. “Our Reverend Oltmann is a stubborn German, as am I. What happened?”
Before she could reply, Kris was describing her fall, taking the blame for surprising her. “She was content to sit on the cold ground for a while, which tells me she is more injured than she wants to admit.”
“I was trying to decide if anything was wrong,” Maggie argued. “I would have managed to stand.”
Franz shook his head. “Stubborn women. I am surrounded by them. Reverend, you will wait in the kitchen. There should be water for tea, if you wish.”
Once Kris had been ushered out and the door closed, Maggie’s shoulders slumped. “My hip really does hurt,” she whispered. Though that wasn’t the worst of her fears.
“I know, liebschen, and I’m glad you let Kristoph help you. You could have done more damage, you know.”
Maggie suffered through the doctor’s examination and answered his questions, though she knew that he’d conclude the same as the other doctors had: nothing to be done but be lame for the rest of her life.
“When did your injury happen?”
“When I was a girl. I was crossing the street near our house and a team of horses bolted. I tried, but couldn’t get out of the way.”
“The leg was broken?”
“Badly. The surgeon set it, but…”
“It’s never been right again, has it?”
“It doesn’t bother me much, except when it gets very cold, or I do something foolish—like fall.”
“Like tonight,” Franz teased and helped her sit up, steadying her until she caught her breath. Again the room spun, leaving Maggie woozy and shaking.
The doctor watched her closely. “It is more than your leg, isn’t it?”
She hesitated, then slowly nodded. “I must be coming down with something. My belly feels unsettled and I’m a bit dizzy.”
“I wonder,” he mused, softly enough Maggie wondered if he was talking to himself. “If that continues, I want you to tell me. Promise?”
She nodded, then wished she hadn’t. Taking a couple of breaths through her mouth she looked at Franz. “I promise.”
“As for your hip, I wish I could do more than tell you to rest it until it doesn’t hurt so much, but there is little else to be done. Hot towels will ease the ache some. Laudanum, if you wish, for the pain, though not too much.”
“No, thank you. Laudanum…” Maggie shivered, remembering the haze she’d endured when the injury was new, hearing but not understanding, speaking but not being understood, unable to do something as simple as raise her own hand. And the horrible times as the drug left her again… “No.”
“That’s gut, my dear. It is not always wise to take the drug, and laudanum addiction comes on more swiftly the second time.” While she was still processing all he’d surmised, Franz eased her to her feet and supported her to her bedroom. “You will rest for a few days and you are not to come downstairs until I am satisfied you will not fall. Rebekah is doing much better, thanks to your care, and we will not starve in your absence.”
Maggie wanted to argue, she truly did, but if she was coming down with an illness, it was best to stay away from Rebekah. “All right.”
“Gut. You prepare yourself for bed and I will return with hot towels and tea.”
His look was so stern, Maggie had to smile. “Yes, Doctor,” she teased.
Franz grinned as he left, closing the door behind him. Heaving a sigh, Maggie forced herself to undress and wash. By the time she belted her wrapper, her stomach felt much better and moving around had loosened the stiffness of her hip enough for her to complete her nightly ritual. She was brushing her hair when Franz knocked again.
Since, after examining her, the doctor would hardly be shocked by her unbound hair, she called for him to come in.
“Franz had to see another patient, so I— Lord, have mercy,” Kris murmured softly.
Maggie snatched the edges of her wrapper together at her throat. “I thought you were the doctor.”
“He was… He had to… Matthew needed… Forgive me, Maggie.” Kris set a tray and a steaming dishpan on the hearth then paused before crossing the room to stand before her. Slowly, he lifted a lock of her hair and sifted it between his fingers. “You steal my breath away, Margaret Flanaghan.” When he brushed his thumb along her jaw, she closed her eyes and pressed a little closer, savoring the gentle touch.
She lifted her gaze to find him watching her, his brows drawn together, his dark eyes serious. Without another word, he backed out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.