After listening to her lungs, Dr. Carlyle determined that she did not have pneumonia but rather a stubborn case of bronchitis, and prescribed antibiotics and rest. Nettie left his office in an unreasonably grateful state, prescription in hand, feeling better already. There was only a moment of hesitation when she considered the reaction of the pharmacist. Since Marigold’s death none of the Sisters had needed Mr. Howe’s services. It had not gone unnoticed. As she waited for her medicine Nettie knew that his clerk had her ears pricked as she unnecessarily straightened the magazines on the rack next to Nettie.
When Dr. Carlyle brought her chart to Sally, he saw that Nettie had left her jacket on the chair nearest the counter. It actually belonged to her sister Patience but Nettie was feverish and distracted; she’d grabbed the first thing she saw as she snuck out of Ivy House that morning. He picked it up to give it to his nurse but the smell of tarragon and thyme and something almost cool, made him pause and hold it a little closer. Sally eyed him as she took the coat from his hands and signaled the next patient. Henry was already planning what would be the first of many house calls since arriving in a town that seemed absolutely determined to stay trapped in the amber of a time long past. The last patient was dispatched by 5:30 so Henry had just enough time to listen to a filing lecture from Sally before he washed the disinfectant off his hands and face. As Henry picked up the jacket Nettie had left behind, he remembered how his father had always told him that he should start as he meant to continue, so Henry decided that he’d make Nettie Sparrow his first house call. He buttoned his vest and stepped out into the slanting light.
BACK AT THE HOUSE Sorrel and Patience settled their sister in her room. Patience brought her white pepper, ginger and honey mixed into hot water and tied a length of eucalyptus-scented flannel around Nettie’s neck. Then she went back to the Nursery. Patience had a talent for healing but she wasn’t much for nursing and certainly not for a sister who chose to bypass her in favor of a stranger.
This is how Dr. Carlyle found Nettie that early evening when he stopped by to check on his patient and return the jacket. Propped up in her bed, a thick eiderdown pulled up to her shoulders, even in the warmth of the house, Nettie was shocked when the tall doctor walked into her room followed by a clearly discombobulated Sorrel.
“Well,” he said. “I see someone has their own ideas about medicine.” Dr. Carlyle leaned down, his hand on the iron bedpost for balance, and took a deep sniff of Nettie’s flannel. “Eucalyptus?” he asked, cocking his head as he inhaled, his long lashes casting his gray eyes in darker shadow. Poor Nettie felt a shiver leap up her neck.
“My sister made this,” she stuttered. “And the tea.”
Henry picked up the cup and sniffed again. It was an odd smell, sharp from the pepper, soft from the honey.
“Patience has the gift,” Sorrel added from the end of the bed. “She’s quite popular here in town.”
“Popular as in all the boys like her?” The doctor laughed.
“Oh, no,” Nettie said. “Patience isn’t interested in boys anymore.”
Henry laughed again. “All grown up or already taken?”
Sorrel gave a laugh. “Patience is the baby, Dr. Carlyle, and none of us are taken.” She blushed and desperately wanted to unsay the last bit. “She has a gift with herbs and plants,” she continued. “Everyone comes for her remedies.”
Now Henry turned to look at Sorrel. “Remedies?” he said with a frown.
“Oh, yes.” Nettie sat up straighter; she had heard the disapproval in the doctor’s voice and was already on the defensive. “Patience has inherited an ancestral ability and the recipe book. She has the touch; ask anyone.”
Henry Carlyle didn’t know whether to be alarmed or just amused that this unseen Sparrow sister had managed to hoodwink an entire town. He was pretty sure that he didn’t like it. He might have left with nothing more than a vague feeling of disappointment about how gullible people could be had Patience not come home just then, the back screen door slamming behind her with a loud clap. Nettie started and Sorrel escorted the doctor from the room, down the front stairs, away from the kitchen, hoping to get him out of the house before he had a chance to meet their sister. She nearly made it, too. Henry had his hand on the front door when Patience wandered in from the kitchen, her arms full of chamomile. The little flowers brushed her chin with yellow pollen and her hair had sprung loose from its messy twist.
The Sisters had lived in an isolated state for so long that Patience was shocked to see a strange man in her front room. Almost as soon as she felt that shock, Patience was embarrassed, and then she was irked.
“Who is that?” she asked her sister, completely ignoring the man himself. Sorrel spluttered out Henry’s name and purpose. She saw the face-off that was setting up and clapped her hands at Patience, an unspoken request for civility from her prickling sister. The entire scene was so unexpected it brought out the worst in all three players. Henry didn’t want to lecture this very pretty girl he’d barely met. He realized she was the snorter in church on Easter, the redhead, and as he stared at her he became fascinated by the precarious nature of her hairdo. In the last of the sun it appeared like a halo around her head. But, perhaps because he was new to Granite Point and eager to establish his authority, Henry spoke, his voice harder than he meant it to be.
“What’s all this I hear about your remedies?” The dismissal was clear and Patience, for the first time in days (a record), turned snappish.
“I beg your pardon?” Patience asked with a bit of a bark. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sorrel flinch.
The doctor looked at Patience with a mixture of surprise and anger. It was not a pretty look. His brow lowered, and his jaw stood out sharply as he clenched it. As for the object of his irritation, two hectic spots of red bloomed on her cheeks and, to her horror, tears sprang to her eyes, threatening to spill over her burning face.
Sorrel ushered Henry out as she excused her sister’s outburst in calming tones. As soon as the door clicked into place, she rounded on Patience.
“How could you be so rude!” she snapped. “Honestly, I think you put all your care, every bit of it, into your remedies.”