Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,35
the smell of burning bacon broke the spell. She snatched the skillet from the heat and grabbed a plate. Ridge chuckled and sat, feeling as though he’d found a lucky four-leaf clover hidden among the thistle. Burned bacon didn’t bother him.
Then, as she puttered around the kitchen gathering the rest of the breakfast, Addie delivered the second surprise of the morning—she began to hum. Sweet sound filled the kitchen. Miss Kitty stopped washing herself and stared.
* * *
Once they arrived in town that morning, Addie went straight to the mercantile and mailed her letter to Zelda Law. Then, taking Ridge’s arm, they went together to Dr. Mary’s office. She settled herself next to him in a chair and glanced around at the cabinets full of medicines, instruments, and medical books. Addie’s nose twitched at the strange smells, and her hands trembled. Maybe she was too broken. Maybe the trauma of her father and prison had done too much damage, and she would never go back to the way she was before.
“Mrs. Steele, what can I help you with?”
Prepared, Addie handed Dr. Mary a note she’d written back at home. The thirtyish doctor, her brown hair in a tidy topknot, studied it then turned her gaze on Addie. “I don’t know if I can help you, but I’ll try. First, I want to examine your throat. Ridge, can you hold the lamp up?”
For the next few moments, Dr. Mary held Addie’s tongue down with a depressor and peered into her mouth, then asked her to move her tongue around, with more peering. “As I suspected,” the doctor announced, sitting back. “I see no physical impairment. To get to the root of the problem will require a lot of questions.”
Addie automatically tensed. Questions meant answers, and those meant delving into painful things that she’d buried…and Ridge would find out exactly the kind of wife he’d gotten. Maybe he wouldn’t want her anymore.
Dr. Mary’s unusual necklace clanked as she laid the tongue depressor down. “How far are you willing to go, Mrs. Steele?”
Addie’s mouth went dry. Decision time. She met the concern in Ridge’s amber eyes and reached for her paper. “All the way. I want to be able to say all the things I want. And call me Addie.”
“I suppose that settles it.” Dr. Mary rested a gentle hand on Addie’s knee. “We’ll do this in small increments. It may take weeks, or months, but we won’t give up. Can you make any sound at all?”
“Yes,” she wrote. “I can hum.”
Ridge squeezed her hand. “She just discovered she could this very morning. It surprised us both.”
“That’s wonderful. Addie, tell me about your home, your family.” At Addie’s frown, Dr. Mary added, “Take your time.”
Where to begin? So much had happened. Addie gripped her pencil and pressed so hard on the paper the lead broke. Tears bubbled in her eyes.
Ridge lifted her up from the chair and pulled her against him, rubbing her back. “It’s all right. No one here wants to hurt you. You’re safe.”
Physically, yes, but she wasn’t safe from the ugly memories that clawed and clawed, trying to steal her very soul.
“I think we’re moving too fast,” Dr. Mary said softly. “If you’ll sit down, I’m going to sing. Ridge, you can join in, and Addie, try to hum along. If you can’t, that’s fine. Just do what’s comfortable.”
Addie wiped her eyes and took her seat as the doctor and Ridge began to sing. The first song was an old hymn, and although the sound brought comfort, she didn’t hum. It was when they moved onto faster songs, ones she didn’t know and of the sort that were probably sung in saloons, that the catchy tunes grabbed her. Carefully, she forced the sound out. The more she hummed, the lighter, and happier she felt and the stronger the sound came from her lips. The doctor seemed to be on the right track.
The kid, Bodie Nix, left his bed and hobbled into the office on a crutch. He paused in the doorway for a while, listening, then he, too, started to sing along. Bodie’s and Ridge’s voices amazed her, combining in beautiful harmony.
After four songs, Dr. Mary stopped. “I think we made progress. Addie, come back tomorrow morning, and we’ll do nothing but sing. If you feel up to writing something down, go ahead, but it’s fine if you don’t. We have no rules for this.”
No rules. Addie found that freeing. No rules meant she couldn’t mess up.