A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(36)

RJ groaned softly and lifted his head as his scar throbbed afresh. The opium bottle upstairs beckoned, but he resisted. He’d already succumbed again last night in order to sleep, and he didn’t like how the frequency of the pills was increasing. Today he would stick it out, come what may.

He bent back over the paper, forcing himself to concentrate. He had the downstairs mostly laid out and a rough sketch of the front of the building. He still needed to figure how many rooms to divide the upstairs into and if he should include an extra washroom.

A ringing shriek sent a flash of blinding pain through his skull. Robbie crashed into RJ’s chair in pursuit of Sofie, knocking RJ’s elbow into the edge of the table and sending a dark slash from his pencil across the fresh drawing.

“Would you kids watch what you’re doing?” He flung his chair back and jumped to his feet, holding his elbow. “And must you scream all the time!”

Robbie and Sofie stood together in sudden solidarity, small running feet now still, and stared up at RJ. Sofie’s tiny chin wobbled, and Robbie put a protective arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry, Mr. RJ.” Robbie rubbed one bare foot atop the other. “I din’t mean to bump into you.”

“Everything all right in here?” Adam stepped in from his office off the sitting room, brows raised. “Robbie, Sofie, have you been bothering our guest?”

“It’s fine.” RJ rubbed his forehead where the eye-patch band irritated. As did everything today, it seemed. “I just need to find a better place to work. Sorry I was sharp with you, Robbie, Sofie.”

His chest pinched at their sober faces, making him miss little Emmaline back home. He never used to be short with children.

Adam nudged the little ones toward the door. “Why don’t you two go play outside for a bit? Keep her in the yard near the porch, Robbie.”

RJ leaned his hands on the kitchen table to survey the damage to his plans. The dark pencil slash streaked right across the detailing of the downstairs layout. He might as well start completely over. He grabbed the paper, crumpling it into a ball. What a waste. Just like his life.

“RJ?” Adam said. “Might I speak with you in my office, please?”

Dread settled hard in RJ’s gut. Well, it hadn’t taken him long to wear out his welcome. He stuffed the ruined plans in his pocket and turned, avoiding Adam’s gaze. “Of course.”

He followed Adam through the sitting room and into the doctor’s home office. Neat shelves of medical books lined the walls, while a clean examining table filled the corner by a medicine cabinet. Adam shut the door, then glanced out the window at the children playing before sitting down in the chair behind his desk.

“I don’t know where they get their energy. Forsythia and I often wish they would share a bit with us.” Adam chuckled drily. “But I’m truly sorry they caused damage to your work. Was it the plans for the boardinghouse?”

“It’s I who should apologize.” RJ clenched his hands on his thighs. “You have opened your home to me. I know I must seem ungrateful—”

Adam held up his hand. “I didn’t call you in here for a reprimand. I want to ask about your eye.”

RJ stared at him for a moment, tongue-tied.

Adam leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. “How long ago did it happen? Was it a minié ball?”

“Six months.” RJ swallowed. “And no, it wasn’t in battle. It was a bushwhacker on my way home to New York State. A Confederate renegade with a knife, thirsty for Yankee blood.” The gruesome memory encroached, and he shoved it away.

“I see. I thought most of them were in the Missouri-Kansas area.”

“Not all.”

“Did you see a surgeon?”

“Yes, and spent time in an army hospital.” RJ drew a long breath. “He removed the remainder of the damaged eye and stitched me up.”

“But you have pain.” Adam’s brown eyes were keen. It wasn’t a question.

RJ shrugged. “Sometimes.” He shifted his jaw against the stabbing that belied his words. “Anders made me see his doctor in Linksburg before we left, and he gave me some opium pills for when it gets bad.” Which seemed more and more to be all the time.

“I wondered.”

RJ cocked his head. “Why?”

Adam shrugged and frowned. “The way your moods seem to go up and down. I’ve seen it with patients on opium before. The drug is still new in many ways, at least in its present form. Many see it as a miracle, and so it is in acute situations. The invention of the hypodermic needle and the distillation of morphine have relieved untold suffering during and after the war. But a few of us physicians, myself included, see some evidence that it may be addictive. Which could make it as damaging as the pain it purports to cure.”

RJ sat back, his heart sinking. “I’ve been tempted to take it more and more.”

“Which is only natural when you are in pain. But regardless, the opium will only mask the symptoms.” Adam tapped his fingers on his bearded chin. “Let me look into this.”

“Look into what, sir?” RJ appreciated the doctor’s concern, but what was done was done.

“What could be causing your pain. Any alternative remedies that might help.”

“With respect, nothing’s going to bring back my eye.”