More Than a Dream by Lauraine Snelling Read Free Book Online Page A

letting her know, but she’d looked ready to melt into a puddle. He thought of the bed waiting for him in the cool back room of the newspaper office. Oh well, he could sleep later. Visions of the old man’s pleading eyes propelled him back out the door and wearing a path to Stromme’s house door.
    ‘‘He sure took to you,’’ Doctor said a bit later when the wagon bearing the old man to the surgery pulled out.
    ‘‘He’d call to me from his rocking chair, telling me when he was happy with my story in the paper and other times when there was something he wasn’t too happy about.’’
    ‘‘You mean he raked you over the coals?’’
    Thorliff half shrugged. ‘‘Me or Mr. Rogers or the mayor or the president . . .’’
    ‘‘Or anything else he thought you might like to know. As if you were responsible for it all.’’
    ‘‘I guess he figured since I work for the newspaper, I might be able to fix something.’’
    ‘‘Henry Stromme has been a pillar of the community for more years than I care to count. Back in his younger days he ran the grain elevator down by the river. Since they put him out to pasture, he’s kept half the town supplied with tomatoes and cucumbers, all kinds of good things from his garden. But this past year he was too stove up to even do much of that. Arthritis is a mean thing, crippling a person. Henry still managed to keep abreast of all the happenings, including all the gossip. In spite of no phone, he hooked on to the Northfield grapevine.’’
    Thorliff listened, nodding when appropriate and wishing he could have done more. ‘‘What’ll happen to him now?’’
    ‘‘I’m hoping we can get him moving around some. If not, we’ll move his bed downstairs to the parlor and get someone in to help. Knowing him, he’ll be one cantankerous patient, but Nurse Browne will charm him into behaving. Hopefully we can get someone in to take care of whatever he needs done.’’
    ‘‘No family?’’
    ‘‘All gone before. His wife died four, maybe five years ago.’’ As they talked, the doctor put his bag back together, and Thorliff folded up the afghan and laid it back on the bed. They walked downstairs to meet Cook coming from the kitchen.
    ‘‘I cleaned up for him, put things away, figured it might be some time before he gets to come home again.’’ She wiped her hands on her apron, making tsk ing sounds. ‘‘Anything else I can do?’’
    ‘‘Not that I can think of. Thank you.’’ Dr. Gaskin patted her arm.
    ‘‘You’re welcome.’’ She closed the door behind them as they stepped out on the porch.
    ‘‘Look at that dog carrying that box.’’ Doc pointed to a shepherd-type dog hightailing it out of the yard with a box in his mouth.
    Thorliff glanced over to the now empty rocking chair, his book satchel dumped on the floor. ‘‘That’s my meal box. Hey, drop that.’’ He leaped off the steps and chased after the dog, which after a glance over his shoulder at the shouting chaser, picked up the pace and left Thorliff behind shaking his fist.
    ‘‘I’ll fix you another.’’ Cook could hardly talk from laughing. Between her and the doctor, the food nabber might have been the funniest thing to happen in Northfield in a month.
    Thorliff stomped up the walk. ‘‘Stupid dog.’’
    ‘‘Smart dog, far as I can tell. Everyone in town knows Cook here is one of the best, even the local canine portion of our fair city.’’
    ‘‘Fair city, my foot.’’ Thorliff sank down on the top step, panting to catch his breath. ‘‘People ought to keep their pets at home.’’ He glared up at the two chortling in glee. ‘‘I don’t see this is so funny.’’ But he had to fight to keep his grin from showing. The dog had looked like a cartoon character carrying off his dinner. The box was bigger than his head. ‘‘Hope he enjoys it.’’ Actually he hoped the dog would get a stomachache. And here he’d spent his time taking care of Mr. Stromme. He shook his