Ginny Aiken Read Online Free Page A

Steven.”
    Discomfort, or so she hoped, colored Mr. Wagner’s cheeks. “Hartville has its share of hypocrites,” he admitted, “but no more than other towns. Steven Patterson lacks adequate parents. Horace, never devoted, quit pretending to care the day his wife died. He now finds comfort in a bottle. Steven fends for himself.”
    At first, Letty felt iced with horror, but by the end of his account, anger again heated her face. “Why doesn’t someone else help the child? What about missionary boxes? Surely you can find a coat to fit the boy. And that decrepit derby . . . Don’t the sons of other families cast off warm hats or caps?”
    “Of course. We’ve all tried, but Horace returns the gifts. The ladies often feed the boy, but that’s about all they can do.”
    Letty made a noise uncomfortably similar to an undignified snort. But it was a bit late to worry about how dignified she sounded. She had behaved abominably—quarreling, for goodness’ sake—ever since meeting this man.
    Concentrating on the fingers working a loose thread on her ulster, Letty gathered the courage to ask another question. “Will anyone object if I try to help?”
    “No, but if you take on the Pattersons, you’ll take on more than you’ve bargained for. I wish you well. Others have failed.” Urged on by a touch of mischief, Letty smiled. “I have it on good authority that I’m distressingly determined. A most unattractive tendency, I’m afraid.”
    Mr. Wagner smiled. Letty counted that smile as a victory.
    “I’m learning just how determined Hartville’s lady doctor really is,” he said. “I don’t find determination unattractive, although it can be daunting.”
    “You hardly look daunted.”
    “I’m a newspaperman. You must know how brash we are. We can handle anything.”
    “I look forward to watching you.”
    Wearing a shadow of a smile, he pulled on the reins, and the horses stopped before a black-shuttered white frame house. As Letty gazed in wonder at the home that, by all indications, Mr. Wagner intended for her use, an unseen person opened the door in welcome.
    Letty placed a hand on Mr. Wagner’s forearm. “Is this my new clinic . . . my house?”
    Mr. Wagner looked down from his superior height. “Of course. Shall we go in? The women from the church have fixed it up for you. They can’t wait to meet you.”
    Letty folded her hands on her lap to keep from clapping with enthusiasm as she admired the place. She breathed a prayer of thanksgiving for the Lord’s splendid provision and seconds later clambered out of the carriage and went up the walk. With a final lingering glance at the exterior, she stepped inside.
    She was home. No one had to tell her. The scent of fresh baked bread and roasted meat wafted it to her nose. The roaring fire in the grate boasted it to her eyes. The warm clasp of plump hands imprinted it into her own.
    “Welcome to Hartville, dear. I’m Adele Stone, Pastor Stone’s wife. I’m so happy to finally meet you.”
    For once, Letty found herself speechless. She looked from face to kind face, and tears sprang to her eyes. Oh, dear. She mustn’t cry. What would they think of a weepy doctor?
    She returned the squeeze with a watery smile. “You can’t imagine how happy I am to be here, and to be greeted like this. . . . Why, it’s better than a dream come true. It’s the answer to my prayers.”
    The five ladies smiled among themselves, each one nodding approval. Then chatter broke out.
    “I’m Miranda Carlson, but please call me Randy,” offered a redhead with green eyes.
    “I’m Miss Emmaline Whitehall,” said a thin, gray-haired lady with spectacles on her long nose.
    So went the round of introductions and lively conversation. Soon Letty noticed a conspicuous absence and could no longer contain her curiosity. Turning to Mr. Wagner, who watched from the side, a smile curving his mustache, she asked, “And where is your wife? I’ve so looked forward to making her