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she could come up with.
    He took hold of her hand and began washing the wound. Jillian bit her lip to keep from crying out, then discovered this pain was nothing compared to the actual process of Mac’s stitching. Twice she nearly screamed, and throughout it all she fought waves of nausea and dizziness. She leaned her head back against the wall, grateful that Mac had positioned the chair close to the corner. She had already determined to lean toward the left where the wall might better support her should she faint.
    â€œThere, four stitches ought to hold you,” Mac said, eyeing his work appreciatively. “I thought for sure you’d be watching to make sure I did it right.”
    Jillian eased her head up and looked at her right hand. It didn’t seem all that much worse for the wear.
    â€œI’ll wrap it up, and in a week, maybe ten days, I’ll take those stitches back out. You ought to be good as new then.” He began to wrap a bandage around the wound, admonishing her to keep it dry. “Tell your Miss Carson that you should not be given any task that will cause you to get your hand wet. Neither should you be lifting anything with this hand.”
    Jillian nodded. Just a few more minutes, she told herself. A few more minutes and I can leave.
    â€œSo how was your trip home? I mean, I know that you went there for your grandmother’s funeral, but since you didn’t like the old woman anyway—”
    Jillian gasped at this. Had Judith really told him that she didn’t like Grandmother Danvers? It was true—neither one of the girls cared much for the superstitious old woman—but that Judith would have actually told this stranger how she felt was almost unimaginable.
    â€œDid I hurt you?” he asked gently.
    â€œNo,” she managed to say, collecting her thoughts. There was apparently a great deal that her sister had shared with this man. Funny that Judith never mentioned him in letters home.
    Mac smiled and went back to work. “So how did you find your parents and sister?”
    â€œOh, they were the same as always,” Jillian managed.
    Before she knew it, he was finished and pushing the tray aside. “Now,” he said in that authoritative tone that seemed to precede any doctorly task, “I’ll take a look at that arm.”
    â€œWhat!” Jillian exclaimed, yanking back the left arm that he had already taken hold of.
    Mac gave her arm a gentle pull. “I said, I intend to see how you’re recuperating.” He was already unfastening the wrist buttons of her blouse.
    â€œNo, that isn’t necessary,” Judith protested, but in her weakened state, she was hardly up to matching the determined Dr. MacCallister.
    Mac pulled up the sleeve and studied her arm for a moment, while Jillian looked up at the ceiling. Now he would know the truth, and for the life of her, she wasn’t sure what she could say or do that would set things right. Jillian waited for him to say something—anything. But he remained silent, his hand still firmly gripping her arm. Finally Jillian dropped her gaze back to Mac’s face when the silence became too difficult to deal with.
    â€œDo you want to explain this to me?” he said, dropping his hold on her. He leaned back against the counter and eyed her in the same fashion one might consider a wayward child.
    Jillian drew a deep breath. “I’m not Judith.”
    â€œYes, I can see that for myself.”
    â€œI’m her twin sister, Jillian.”
    â€œAnd you’re here masquerading as Judith because you were bored with life in the city?” he questioned.
    She shook her head. “My sister asked me to come and pose as her.” Jillian sighed, preparing to reveal the whole scenario. There was no sense in lying. She’d been discovered and would soon be sent back to Kansas City. Unless, she thought hopefully, she could convince Mac to keep her secret.
    â€œYou want