Well, that was true.
“Figure it out, Max,” Kimberly said as she gathered her things.
“What?”
“Figure out what you want to do. Everything waits upon you.” She came around the bedside to look him in the eye. “I wait upon you.”
His expression softened and he stood with awkward grace. His cheeks were tinged red as he gathered her hand in his. “A little bit longer, Kimberly. I swear.” Then he pressed a reverent kiss to her hand.
“Very well, Hamlet.”
“Stop that,” he grumbled as he straightened.
She arched her brows at him while he rolled his eyes at her. Watching it, Emmaline could see the connections of long friendship, the bonds that allowed for mistreatment, forgiveness, and even an amiable future marriage.
But she also saw so many ways it could go wrong. Theirs was not a relationship built on mutual passion, thank goodness. Both were even tempered, rational people. But even rational people broke under extraordinary stress, and she did not like this sudden disruption of Chinese into their lives.
“Wait!” Emma said as she made her decision. “I shall go with you, if you don’t mind.”
“What?”
“Well, the patient is in my bedroom. I need somewhere to stay.” And she wasn’t going into the yellow bedroom ever again. “You and I can spend the evening together saying all kinds of nasty things about my brother.”
“Emma, please,” groaned Max.
“He’s going to have a long, lonely night to consider his sins,” Emma continued. “I say we do the same.”
Kimberly grinned. “I shall love it beyond all else.”
“Have at it,” he harumphed as he dropped back into his chair. “I care very little about what either of you say.”
“And that, brother dear, is exactly the problem.”
Chapter Twelve
“They are angrywith you.” Yihui waited to speak until the women had left. Even then, she kept her voice low, but he heard her.
“Yes,” he said, his tone rueful. “Kimberly has a right. My sister, on the other hand, is always angry with me, so that doesn’t count.”
She nodded, pleased that she understood his English words. He spoke slowly, which helped. And there was a cleanness in the way he formed sounds that made him easier to understand. Each syllable was spoken clearly, and she liked watching the way his mouth moved. She discovered a wealth of meaning in the curve of his lips or the occasional pinch.
Right now, he was pinched, but the lift of his brows suggested humor.
“Do you have sisters?” he asked. “Brothers?”
“Two brothers which is why I was sold.”
Now his mouth pinched even more. “What do you mean, you were sold?”
“I am not the true Wong daughter.” She thought she’d told him that but wasn’t sure now. “I am better than her. She is ugly with a mean temper and sick feet.” Though she might also have sick feet now. “The Wong daughter’s foot binding was done badly, and she suffers from them. I will make sure my feet are not so badly managed.”
“It’s true then,” he said. “You bind every girl’s feet?”
She shook her head. “Just the rich ones.” Then she realized her mistake. If she wasn’t the Wong daughter, he would have no reason to take care of her. Stupid! Stupid! She abruptly surged forward, grabbing his hand. “But I am better than they are. I make medicines. I can tend to your women. Their complaints will not bother you when I am around to heal them.”
He caught her hands and held them firm. “I am sure you are prettier—”
“Not just pretty! Smart. Educated. I can teach your doctors Chinese medicine. Much better than your medicine.”
