She had finally given May half the truth about their reasons for going; she said that she wanted May to meet a doctor friend of hers, making sure that May understood that this “friend” was a man. She refused to be any less honest with her young patient. Had May reacted with a return to hysteria, or run off into the woods, Johanna would have postponed the meeting indefinitely and proceeded with the next move.
But May wasn’t unduly disturbed. She didn’t freeze in terror at the prospect of leaving the Haven or meeting a stranger. It was a vivid mark of her improvement that she went willingly, even with a touch of enthusiasm when Johanna promised to look for new books at the general store.
May had wanted Quentin to accompany them. But Quentin’s presence would be a wild card in a very tenuous situation.
So she and May went alone, the girl outfitted in her second-best dress, Johanna in her most sober gown. She found herself driving more slowly than usual, preparing herself for any eventuality and the absolute necessity of deceiving Bolkonsky, just as he’d deluded her.
All too soon they were in Silverado Springs. May seemed not to notice the sometimes hostile stares of the townspeople; she simply hunched in her seat beside Johanna. At the hotel, she took hold of Johanna’s hand and clutched it so emphatically that her delicate bones seemed in danger of breaking.
“Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“I’ll be here with you,” Johanna said. She gave the girl a quick hug. “It will be all right.” No matter what I must do to make it so.
A clerk in the lobby informed Johanna that Dr. Bolkonsky awaited their arrival in his suite of rooms, and offered to lead the way. Bolkonsky opened the door to her knock.
His blue gaze immediately fell on May. “Ah, Miss Ingram. I’m so glad you could come today.”
May shrank behind Johanna. “I want to go home,” she whispered.
Johanna and Bolkonsky exchanged a guarded look. “Of course you do,” he said gently. “And you will, soon enough. In the meantime, ladies, won’t you come in and take refreshments with me?” He smiled at May. “I have some delicious biscuits and jam and cakes.”
May’s wary expression matched Johanna’s own feelings. She led May into the sitting room, unobtrusively keeping herself between the girl and Bolkonsky.
Bolkonsky’s suite was undoubtedly the hotel’s finest accommodation, its furnishings rich and only a little out of date. Bolkonsky’s practice must be very successful indeed, if he were not heir to some fortune that allowed him to spend money so freely. Johanna realized that she’d never inquired about his family or background beyond his educa-tion. Now she wished she knew a great deal more about him.
“Please, sit down,” he said, offering the women chairs near the window. He personally served the refreshments, but the biscuit May selected remained uneaten in her hand.
“Well, May,” he said. “As I said, I’m glad you and Johanna could come to see me today. She has told me much about you.”
May stared at him—openly, not with the brief, darting looks she ordinarily employed with strangers. “Why?” she asked.
Bolkonsky glanced at Johanna in surprise. It was unlike May to be so direct. Johanna was no less startled, but also proud of the girl’s courage. This meeting might be endured without disaster.
“Johanna surely told you that I am a doctor, as she is,” Bolkonsky said. “I know you’ve been staying at the Haven, and that you are familiar with Dr. Schell’s methods. I had hoped you might talk with me, and perhaps allow me to hypnotize you. It would be a very great help to me, you see.”
May crumbled her biscuit between her fingers. She looked at Johanna with pleading in her eyes.
“I would rather not,” she said. “Johanna…”
“I know I am still a stranger to you,” Bolkonsky said, “but I hope to remedy that situation.” He picked up a book from a side table. “I understand that you enjoy reading. I’ve brought a book for you—”
“I don’t want it.” May bolted from her chair and moved behind Johanna’s. “I don’t like him,” she whispered in Johanna’s ear. “If Quentin were here—”