Still Lake - Anne Stuart [86]
As sad as it was for Doc, Rima’s illness had been a blessing for Sophie. While she didn’t know the details of what kept Rima housebound and mostly silent, she did know that she hadn’t “been right” in years, according to Marge Averill. Doc had had plenty of time to hone his skills, his patience and his caring on his own wife, and he’d helped Sophie deal with Grace’s sudden, unexpected deterioration.
Sophie left the porch, heading for Doc’s car, but he forestalled her. “Rima doesn’t feel much like talking today,” he said, his gentle smile accepting. “It was all I could do to talk her into taking a little drive, but I wanted to check on that cut of yours and bring you these.”
He handed her a bouquet of bright yellow flowers, and she looked down at them, smiling. So Marty wasn’t the only Davis woman with a gentleman caller who brought her flowers. “How sweet!” she said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen these before. What are they called?”
“Judas tears. Rima grows them in her garden—they’re pretty rare around here. Rima’s flowers are her pride and joy—just about the only thing that interests her. I was thinking it might help her if we moved to a warmer climate, where the growing season was longer, but she won’t have it. Born here in Colby and she’ll die here.” He glanced back at the car with tender care. “But not for a good long time, I hope. I guess we’re just a couple of hardcore Vermonters.”
“Shouldn’t I thank her for the flowers?”
“No need,” Doc said. “I’ll tell her you appreciate them. She’ll just wait in the car while I check on your mother. She was pretty restless this morning, and I’m a little worried that she might start getting delusional.”
“Delusional?”
“Don’t you worry, Sophie. You aren’t alone in this. I’m here for you. If Grace starts imagining things we can control it with drugs. How’s the head?”
“Just fine. Not even a headache.”
“Why don’t you put the flowers in water while I check on Grace? You wouldn’t want them to die, would you?”
She looked down at the pretty bouquet. She’d been wrong, she thought. The flowers were unusual, but she’d seen them somewhere before, and recently. She just couldn’t remember where.
They looked like the same flowers that Patrick had brought Marty. That had to be it, she thought. But for some reason that wasn’t the connection she was looking for.
She was arranging the flowers in a small blue vase, trying to remember where else she’d seen them, when she heard Doc and Grace’s voices coming from her room. The tone was a little strained, which surprised her. Doc was devoted to Grace, as he was to all his patients, and even as Grace deteriorated she’d shown a surprising interest in Doc’s comings and goings. There’d been a time when she’d almost seemed jealous of the time Sophie spent with him—she certainly did her childish best to keep them apart. Keeping Doc for herself, it seemed. She had no choice but to share him with Rima, but she wasn’t about to let Sophie and Marty spend much time with him.
She heard her mother’s door close quietly, and she turned with the vase in her hand as Doc walked into the kitchen, his expression gloomy. “She’s not good, my dear,” he said gently. “I’m afraid she’s going to need to be on some kind of tranquilizer. She’s very agitated tonight. I think I’ll take Rima home and come back out and sit with her. If need be, I’ll give her something so that she’ll sleep through the night.”
Sophie didn’t bother to hide her stricken expression. “But what happened? She didn’t seem any different this morning. I know my accident upset her, but I made it clear that it was just a drunk driver….”
“What are you talking about?” Doc said sharply. “You told me you misjudged the curve and slid off the road. You didn’t say a word about another driver.”
Shit. “I didn’t want to worry you, Doc,” she said, embarrassed. “I was nearly run off the road up by Dutchman’s Falls. It was an accident, and the driver was probably