Free Christmas With the Colburns by Keely Brooke Keith Page B

stepped into the room.
    He cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can do?”
    Lydia glanced at Mr. McIntosh. “I need a couple thin pieces
of wood to splint his leg, if you don’t mind.”
    Mr. McIntosh nodded and left the house. A moment later, he
returned with two flat, wooden shingles. Lydia used them to splint Matthew’s
leg, then she began to clean and pack her instruments. As she worked, she gave
Mr. and Mrs. McIntosh instructions for bandaging and cleaning his leg. Then she
handed Mrs. McIntosh a jar of gray leaf salve. “Use this twice a day on the
wound. With rest and proper use of the medicine he should heal completely in a
few days.”
    Lydia followed Mr. and Mrs. McIntosh out to the porch. Stars
crowded the clear sky and crickets’ intermittent chirps pierced the cool night
air. Lydia’s horse snorted as Mr. McIntosh gathered the reins and walked it to
her.
    “Thank you, Lydia.” Mrs. McIntosh fanned her face with her
hands.
    Mr. McIntosh removed his wide-brimmed hat and wiped his brow
with a cotton handkerchief. “It seems too dangerous of a job for a
woman—taking the forest path alone at night like you did to get here.” He
put his hat back on his head and dabbed at the sweat on his neck. “I’m grateful
you got here in time to save my boy, no doubt about it, but the way you rushed
down the forest path instead of taking the main road scared me. Granted you
beat me back here by twenty minutes, but still it’s too dangerous at night
to—”
    “The cover of darkness does not mean I’m released from duty.”
She stepped around Mr. McIntosh and strapped her medical bag to the saddle.
    He nodded then handed her the reins. “That’ll be the last
time Matthew climbs to the roof of the barn.”
    “Yes. Please see to it.” She smiled and tucked a loose strand
of hair behind her ear.
    “I heard your family will be gathering tomorrow night to
celebrate Isabella’s seventy-fifth birthday. How about I deliver a lamb roast
as your payment?”
    “That sounds fine. I’ll tell my father to expect you.” She
mounted her horse. “I know Aunt Isabella will be glad to have roast lamb at her
party.”
    “A lamb it is. Thank you, Miss Colburn. Oh, and do take the
road back to the village. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you
on your way home.”

 
    * * *

 
    As Lydia surveyed the feast, she straightened the
turtle-shaped broach pinned to her dress. Satisfied with the preparations for
Isabella’s party, she left the kitchen through the wide entrance to the parlor,
walked past the staircase, and knocked on her great-aunt’s bedroom door.
    “Come in,” Isabella answered. Lydia turned the glass doorknob
and stepped inside. The dark room and unmade bed struck a chord of sadness in
Lydia. She left the door open, and the afternoon sunlight that filled the rest
of the house spilled into the room.
    Isabella was sitting in her rocking chair by a curtained
window. Her knitting needles clicked in rhythm. “What is it, dear?”
    “We are ready for you, Aunt Isabella.” Lydia smiled as she
spoke, but the elderly woman’s face remained impassive. Isabella continued
knitting for a moment then reached to a basket beside her chair. She lowered
the yarn and knitting needles into the basket, then touched the side table by
her chair and felt along its edge until she reached the handle of her cane.
    Isabella’s fingers traced the cane’s curve. “I do hate a
fuss. I hope you didn’t waste time on decorations. They are a frivolity.”
    Lydia walked closer. “No, there aren’t any decorations, but
the food looks wonderful. Mr. McIntosh delivered a roast lamb, and it smells
delicious. Everything’s ready for you. Won’t you come to the kitchen?”
    “It does smell good.” Isabella pulled the cane toward her.
“Seventy-five. Isn’t that old?” She sounded surprised by her own age.
    Lydia knelt beside Isabella and touched the elderly woman’s
arm. “I think seventy-five is