"What do you want me to say to them?" he asked, placing his pudgy hands on wide hips.
"Tell them the truth. Mistress Grace will die without me."
The doctor let out a slight laugh that disappeared quickly into the air.
"You do not believe this?" she asked. "I have saved her four times already. Twice with the unborn babies in the night, once when her son was stolen, and now with Rose Baby's birth." Mai Lin raised her thin arms and shook them, her many bracelets rattling. "I ask you, how many lives can a woman have?"
Doc Hemingway appeared to be studying her, but she had no patience for his slow-witted response.
"You know it's true," she barked. "Speak to the Reverend Charles Martin."
The doctor glanced helplessly over the balustrade to the front entrance hallway below and then across to the closed door of Reverend Watson's study.
"He is of no use," Mai Lin hissed, nodding down to where the Reverend had locked himself in for days. "He loves his wife, but he is unable to help her."
The doctor's shoulders sagged. "I will speak with Reverend Martin. Heaven only knows if he holds any sway over his wife. She is a force of nature."
"Her?" Mai Lin let out a sharp cackle. "I am a force of nature."
Later that afternoon as Grace continued to sleep, Mai Lin told the Martins' number-one boy and the number-two boy, his son, to rotate her mistress's bed. Mrs. Martin skittered around and objected, but Mai Lin pointed to her reclining mistress and whispered, "Quiet! Patient is sleeping."
The men carefully set the bed down precisely where Mai Lin wished.
"Astounding," Mrs. Martin muttered. "Next thing I know, you'll be rearranging my parlor."
Mai Lin did not argue but hurried to her mistress as she was opening her eyes onto the vista out the window. The corners of Grace's mouth lifted slightly. She noticed her friend on the other side of the bed and raised a hand, which Mrs. Martin then shook too vigorously.
"Thank you, dear Mildred, for so thoughtfully placing me here where I can see the courtyard and the plains beyond. I know it will help in my recovery."
Mai Lin let out a grunt of satisfaction and went to the dresser across the room, where she busied herself setting up her apothecary. She organized bottles of tinctures, a mortar and pestle, pouches of herbs, blocks of incense, cups, and needles. When she finished, she noticed that the Reverend had sneaked quietly into the room. He stood behind Mrs. Martin, who chattered at the mistress as she lay very still with shut eyes. The Martins' young daughter, Daisy, clamored around the bed, too, not helping Mai Lin's mistress to rest at all.
It was time to shoo them out, these useless people who did not understand the seriousness of her mistress's medical condition. Mai Lin shuffled over to the Reverend, and to her surprise, he beamed down at her. The tall man knew so very little and somehow believed in all the wrong things. Now, for example, he suddenly looked convinced that it was easy for Mai Lin to keep his wife alive. She would, of course, but it would be no simple task. As always, Mai Lin thought, he had the faith and enthusiasm of an innocent child not yet schooled in the ways of the world.
"Mai Lin," he said in a fond voice, "how is our dear girl doing today?"
Mai Lin jutted out her bottom lip. "She is here now at the Martins' house."
"Yes, yes, I see that!" the Reverend said, rocking up onto his heels. "A wise decision. Doc Hemingway explained it all to me. And most excellent that you are here with her. We are terribly grateful." He awkwardly patted Mai Lin on the shoulder, and when she did not respond, he withdrew his hand.
"Reverend Watson," Mrs. Martin said, finally acknowledging him, "it is best for your wife to rest now. Out we go."
Mrs. Martin rose and gestured for her small daughter and the Reverend to leave the bedroom with her. Like an ignorant sheep, he turned and started toward the door. The grand, powerful man of previous times appeared withered in his simple black suit. Mai Lin missed his long traveling coat and the enormous hide he had worn on his adventures. She was glad, though, to see that the red sash still hung across his breast, and the pouch with the twin golden dragons swung at his side. Several silver amulets and half-a-dozen pouches remained around his