Sonoma Rose: An Elm Creek Quilts Novel by Jannifer Chiaverini Page A

to get some nutritious food into them.”
    “Of course.” Rosa would have agreed to feed them bread and water ten times a day if Dr. Russell thought it might save them.
    “When I was in the service, I worked with a physician who once described seeing a similar affliction in children in Chicago.” Balancing on his crutches, Dr. Russell fell silent, thinking. “We lost touch after I was wounded and sent home, but I believe he’s with Stanford University now.”
    “Could you consult him?” asked Lars.
    “Certainly. It could take some time to verify his whereabouts and get in touch with him, but once we do, he may very well be able to advise me on how to help your children.”
    Dizzying relief washed over Rosa, but the doctor’s unexpected words of hope did not lessen her sense of urgency. “Could you please try to find him now?”
    “Of course, the moment I’ve finished my rounds.”
    “Could you find him
now
, please?” asked Rosa, more insistently. “I realize you have other patients who need your care, but I’ve already lost four children, and if I lose Ana and Miguel while I’m waiting to hear from a doctor you knew in wartime nearly a decade ago, I won’t be able to bear it.” And if his former colleague could not help them, Rosa needed to know that too, so she could seek help elsewhere, so she did not let her hopes lift her up so high she would not survive the plummet back to earth.
    “Very well, Mrs. Ottesen,” Dr. Russell said. “If you and Mr. Ottesen would care to join your children outside, I’ll see what I can do.”
    Lars’s strong right arm steadied her as they walked back to the waiting room, where Marta was entertaining the younger children with a story about a bold prince and three valiant princesses who escaped the clutches of an evil sorcerer by transforming themselves into bears. Rosa cuddled Miguel on her lap and held Ana’s hand as she waited for Dr. Russell to return.
    The minutes passed with excruciating slowness, but at last the doctor appeared in the corridor, smiling as he swung toward them on his crutches. “Dr. Reynolds is with Stanford Hospital in San Francisco,” he said. “He was in a lecture when I telephoned, so I had to leave a message with his secretary and wait for him to call back. Not only did he recall the cases in Chicago he had told me about years ago, but he’s also currently treating several children afflicted with the same illness.” His smile broadened. “He’s observed excellent responses to a regimen created by a doctor in New York. He’s going to tell me more about it, and I’ll see if we can put your children on a similar course of treatment.”
    Rosa hardly dared believe what she was hearing. “There’s a cure?”
    “I don’t know if it’s fair to call it a cure when we haven’t even identified the condition, but it does seem to be an effective treatment.” Dr. Russell took a folded piece of white paper from his pocket and handed it to Lars. “Dr. Reynolds’s credentials, as well as his address and phone number, should you have any concerns about his qualifications.”
    Rosa hadn’t any; his status with the university hospital was enough to impress her, and she had no other options. “When can we begin treatment?”
    “I’ll need time to consult with Dr. Reynolds and to arrange the regimen. I think it would be reasonable for us to schedule an appointment a week from tomorrow.”
    Rosa’s heart sank. She had hoped they could begin the next morning. With hopes of a cure within reach, how could she wait a week? How would she prepare rice and tortillas in the small rented room at the Radcliffe Hotel? How long would they need to remain in Oxnard while Ana and Miguel underwent treatment? What about school for Marta and Lupita? What about John, and the police, and the bootleggers, and anyone else who might be seeking them?
    As they thanked Dr. Russell and left the children’s ward, Rosa’s mind worked furiously. “There must be