Miracle Woman by Marita Conlon-Mckenna Read Free Book Online Page B

medicine woman or healer.’
    â€˜I know,’ she sighed. ‘I know.’
    â€˜And are you?’
    Martha sat quite still, concentrating on the glass drawers filled with the wondrous coloured tints of embroidery thread spread out beside her.
    â€˜I am not . . . I don’t know!’
    â€˜What happened to the rest of them?’
    â€˜Mark’s mother said he’s doing fine, and Jeanie Sheldon phoned to tell me she hasn’t even as much as lit a match in the past three days.’
    â€˜And the warts?’
    â€˜Who knows about warts!’
    Evie laughed, tossing her short brown hair. ‘Martha, maybe you really can heal!’ she said.
    â€˜Don’t be joking. It’s not funny, honest to God it’s not!’
    â€˜I’m not. Maybe you have a genuine gift for healing.’
    â€˜I don’t think so.’
    â€˜Why not? Look at all those crazy people you see on the TV who set themselves up as healers. Do you believe they can heal people?’
    â€˜I don’t know, Evie.’
    â€˜Well then, why shouldn’t someone genuinely good and caring like you be chosen? You are such a good person and, well, good people can do good things.’
    Martha couldn’t understand what her friend was trying to say.
    â€˜I do believe that. Maybe the powers that be have decided that this is for you, that you in your own way can now help people,’ Evie explained.
    â€˜Don’t be so stupid.’
    â€˜No, listen! You are a good person, probably the best I know. You listen to people, talk to them. You’ve been helping other people for years, but not so much that you yourself might have noticed it . . . Maybe this touching and healing is just, well, another step up from that, another dimension.’
    To say Martha was surprised that her old friend would even consider the remote possibility that she could alter anyone’s physical state by touching them was just ludicrous. Evie usually had more sense. The coffee was cold and Martha didn’t want to intrude on any more of Evie’s work time.
    â€˜What you doing next Tuesday?’ enquired Evie.
    â€˜I’m meant to be working in the Highlands sanctuary, why?’
    â€˜There’s a house auction over Newton direction and I thought the two of us might drive over and have a look. The old lady who lived there is meant to have a fine collection of early American craft work, quilting, samplers, who knows.’
    â€˜Sounds interesting. Maybe I can change days with one of the other volunteers?’
    â€˜Yeah, I thought we could go over way ahead of the auction and have a look at the items and then grab a bite of lunch.’
    â€˜That sounds good.’
    â€˜All going well, we’ll be home in time for the kids.’
    Martha liked the sound of it, the two of them having a few hours together. So much had been going on in the past few days, she knew that Evie was the only one likely to understand the quandary she was in. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before and she hadn’t a clue what to do – whether to go along and try to help people or just ignore it and hope that they would get fed up and leave her alone. She needed to talk to someone. The sanctuary would understand and she’d swap days with one of the other volunteers. A day out with Evie would be great.
    The shop bell clanged and a large-breasted woman in a crochet waistcoat and pale blue denim skirt entered. Evie greeted her warmly, and introduced her.
    â€˜Martha, this is one of my favourite customers, Connie Jackson. She teaches a craft class over at the women’s centre in Concord.’
    Martha shook hands politely, noticing the long list being produced from the woman’s purse and the scraps of fabric she was stretching out onto the counter.
    Evie and the customer would be bound to spend the next half-hour at least considering variousloops of embroidery thread and an age discussing colours and going