Prudence

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Prudence Page 5

by Caroline Clemmons


  Riley climbed into his rig, snapped the reins, and drove toward Tarnation. He hated to charge people as poor as the Hankins but they were too proud to take charity. Ola Mae’s condition weighed on his mind. He doubted she’d go the full term.

  He would have preferred examining her further to insure the pregnancy was going well. Many women thought going to a doctor before the baby was due was pointless. Ola Mae’s swollen ankles and large belly caused him concern, especially if she was only as far along as she thought.

  He couldn’t keep Prudence from his thoughts. How many babies had she delivered? Was her number as much as his? He supposed he should have asked her more about her experiences, but he didn’t want to encourage her.

  Having a midwife here would be a help as more of the Bride Brigade married and became pregnant. Nevertheless, Riley liked delivering a new life into the world. He never failed to experience awe. Recalling the experiences he’d had brought a smile to his lips.

  That soon changed. When he arrived back at his home, he couldn’t ignore that blasted sign Prudence had over her door.

  Prudence Lynch

  Midwife and Herbal Remedies

  Zillah Hill walked by and turned in at Prudence’s door. Drat. What was wrong with Zillah and why didn’t the woman come to his office? He wondered if Ken would tell him what Zillah’s problem was and what Prudence recommended.

  He led his horse into the carriage house and brushed him down then gave him oats. The rig needed dusting but he was in no mood to play housekeeper today.

  When he went into his office, Lemuel Gamble, owner of the hotel, waited for him.

  Riley washed his hands and took a seat behind his desk. Although he knew the problem, he still asked, “What can I do for you today, Lemuel?”

  The hotelier held up his left foot. “I’ve still got that awful pain in my foot, Doc. I can barely walk.”

  “Get your shoe off and let me see how your toe looks.”

  “I’m just not getting’ any better. It’s all I can do to stand on my feet at the hotel. Most times I have to sit on a stool.”

  Riley looked at the otherwise thin man’s bulging abdomen. “Did you cut down on beef, fat, and rich food as I told you?”

  Lemuel scratched his neck. “Well, sure, some. I tried doin’ without but I get hungry for meat and I sure love the crusty fat at the edges. You know what a good cook Lonnie Granger is. Hard to resist their café’s food.”

  Riley lost his patience. “Lemuel, you have two choices. One is to feel like this or worse. The other is to eat like I told you and get better. Whatever you decide is up to you, but don’t expect me to offer medical advice if you have no intention of doing what I suggest.”

  “Now, Doc, don’t get all het up. I try, I sure do. I figured there had to be somethin’ else you could do.”

  “There is no magic cure, Lemuel. You’ll have to use will power to get rid of the pain.”

  Lemuel pouted as replaced his sock and shoe. “How much do I owe you?”

  “I ought to make you pay double for having to repeat the same advice, but I’m not charging you today. Don’t come back complaining of this gout unless you’ve done what I’ve told you.”

  The hotel owner limped out of the office. Riley rose and went to the reception room to watch the man.

  His mother came from the kitchen to stand beside him. “Lemuel’s gout acting up again?”

  “Still, but he won’t follow my instructions.”

  His mother patted his arm. “Hard to change habits at our age. He does love his food. He and Evie eat out three times a day.”

  He peered out the window. “Well, I’ll be. He walked right over to Miss Lynch’s place. That man has nerve enough for two.” Riley wheeled on his heel and went into his office in a huff.

  His mother followed him. “Now, Riley, don’t get upset. You know people are going to wonder if she has some magic potions.”

  “They’ll see all she offers are illusions and sleight of hand.”

  “You’re being unfair. She’s studied healing from her grandmother and comes from a long line of folk healers and midwives. You shouldn’t discount all she knows.”

  “Mark my words, Mother. Soon she’ll do something that will result in serious injury to someone. When that happens, I hope Adam will arrest her.”

  “Son, you sound bitter. She’s only a young woman trying to support herself the only way she knows.”

  He waved aside her suggestion. “She ought to learn something else. Or get married as she’s supposed to do. Isn’t that why the Bride Brigade women came here in the first place? Most of them have already married. What’s holding Miss Lynch back?”

  His mother gave him The Look she used to let him know she was disgusted with him. “No doubt she’s waiting for the right man to ask her. Appears to me, that right man is too bull-headed to know what’s best for his own good.” She swished out of his office.

  Good. He’d had all the upset he needed for today. For this week. For longer. Ever since those seven women came to Tarnation.

  Chapter Five

  Prudence bid Zillah Hill goodbye. They’d had a nice visit and she’d offered Zillah a solution to her problem. Zillah’s upset was change of life but there were herbs to ease those symptoms.

  Prudence smiled at the man who limped into her office. He looked familiar but she’d met so many people since she’d arrived that she couldn’t keep all the names and faces sorted. The people she’d met at church were easier to remember than those she’d met at Lydia’s balls.

  The man nodded. “How do, I’m Lemuel Gamble from the hotel.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Gamble, we met at Mrs. Harrison’s dance. I see you’re limping. Why don’t you sit down?”

  “Call me Lemuel. Everyone does.” He exhaled as if relieved to take a seat. “Doc says I have gout but I’m not gettin’ better. Figured I’d give you a try.”

  Oh, dear. She didn’t like this situation. She disliked encountering people who asked everyone they could find about a problem until someone told them what they wanted to hear.

  Careful to keep her expression neutral, she asked, “May I ask what Dr. Gaston suggested?”

  The hotelier screwed up his face. “He always says the same thin’. Don’t eat this, don’t eat that. A body has to live, don’t he?”

  In other words, Lemuel wasn’t paying attention to what he was supposed to eat. However, she smiled at him.

  “Of course. I believe I have just what you need in the other room. I’ll be right back.”

  Prudence hated tricking people, but sometimes that was the only thing that helped them. She prepared a solution and poured it into a bottle, pasted a label on the glass side, and returned to the front.

  “Use ten drops of this in eight ounces of water every two hours while you’re awake. Here’s a glass and you can see I’ve scratched a line where the water should come. Drink every drop. Keep up the treatment for a week after the pain has gone.”

  She passed him her instructions on a sheet of paper. “You probably won’t get relief for a couple of days, but then you should start feeling much better.”

  Lemuel held up the bottle. “And this will cure me?”

  Of course not but she didn’t want to admit that to him. She carefully chose her words and spoke slowly and distinctly. “As long as you use this treatment, these drops will make you feel better. After that, I offer no guarantee.”

  A wide smile split his face. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Fifty cents.”

  His eyes widened and he whistled in spite of his missing front tooth. “Whew, that’s steep for a little bottle of drops but if this works it’ll be worth ever’ penny.” He laid two quarters on the counter then shoved the instructions and the bottle into his pocket.

  She scooped the coins into a drawer. “Let me know how you feel in a week.”

  “I will sure enough. Best of the day to you.” Lemuel was still smiling when he limped from her office.

  Prudenc
e wanted to giggle but didn’t dare. People were the same anywhere, if a few of her customers were examples. This had been a good day, though.

  She’d charged Lemuel extra for aggravation. He wanted to get well without effort or change. Life wasn’t that easy.

  At the end of the day, she turned her sign from Open to Closed with a sense of accomplishment. Reaction to her office had been favorable. People had even sought her out at church yesterday.

  Walking briskly, Prudence couldn’t keep her thoughts from Granny. Those memories merged with thoughts of the gold. So far, the training her grandmother gave her had been sufficient. Her heart still ached from losing her beloved grandmother.

  Prudence supposed Granny had done what she thought best, but her legacy was a burden as much as a surprise. Keeping gold that didn’t actually belong to Prudence’s family didn’t seem right. She had to continue mulling over the problem. Perhaps she could come up with a satisfactory solution.

  ***

  The next morning when Prudence took the gold to the bank, Lydia accompanied her. They asked to speak to Bart Tucker personally.

  The dapper man stood when they entered his office. “Ladies, please be seated. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  After a glance at Lydia, Prudence set a bag on the banker’s desk. “I have some old coins I’d like to exchange for currency.”

  Bart reached for the bag. “Let’s see what you’ve brought.”

  He took out one piece of gold and his eyes widened. “My, this is a surprise. Let me get my scale.”

  The banker stood and went to a cabinet where he removed a small set of weights and a scale. He also took out a small selection of tools she couldn’t identify.

  He fixed a small eyepiece to one eye. “You’ll understand I have to see if the gold is solid or plating.” Scraping the edge of a coin, he curled off precious metal. He held up the coin to the light.

  “Solid gold.” Carefully, he added the shavings to the scale with the coin. “How many of these do you have?”

  Prudence poured out the bag’s contents. “One hundred, all about the same date. They’ve been in my family for five generations.”

  Tucker leaned back in his chair. “My dear Miss Lynch, you have a nice sum here. Even if some of the coins vary slightly, you’re looking at a gold value of around sixteen thousand dollars.”

  Prudence gasped and fought for air.

  Lydia grabbed Prudence’s head and pushed it between her knees. “Take a deep breath and relax.”

  The banker poured her a glass of water at a side table and brought it to her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Prudence gulped the water and exhaled. “Thank you, I’ll be fine. I just had no idea.”

  Tucker paced back and forth, stroking his mustache. “These were among the last gold coins minted in France. After their revolution, they changed to paper francs. To a collector, these might bring you more than the actual gold is worth.”

  Prudence composed herself. “Mr. Tucker, what should I do?”

  “If you want to leave them with me, I’ll lock them in the safe and send out some feelers to collectors in more populated areas. I’ll give you a receipt for the coins, of course, while they’re in my care.”

  “That’s what I’d like to do, Mr. Tucker. I couldn’t sleep knowing they were in my room.”

  Lydia sighed. “Neither could I. Goodness, even if we’re the only ones who know about them, I’d be afraid now would be the one time we had a break in at home.”

  The banker took out a form and filled in the blanks. When he’d signed it he handed the paper to her. “Here’s a receipt stating the number and gold value. Anytime you want to reclaim them, you’ve only to present the receipt to me. In the meantime, I’ll send out inquiries. I must caution you that if you sell them to a collector, you’ll get more but I’ll expect a ten percent commission.”

  Prudence read the receipt and then folded it to fit in her purse. “That’s only fair. Again, thank you. I’m still overwhelmed. I appreciate your help.”

  Lydia stood and took Prudence’s arm. “We should go so Bart can get back to other business.”

  Prudence allowed Lydia to lead her. Shock had her drifting in a fog. Who could have guessed her family’s secret would be worth so much?

  Granny could have had a lovely home with every comfort. Recalling how her grandmother lived and how much she suffered at the end, Prudence wanted to curl into a ball and sob. But, in the end, no amount of gold could have cured the cancer eating at Granny’s insides.

  Prudence vowed she wasn’t going to hoard her treasure. Not that she was against saving for the future, but within reason. Whatever the coins’ worth, she’d see the money was used to better lives.

  ***

  Later that week, a chubby woman with a smiling face came to Prudence’s office.

  “Good morning. Please come in.”

  “I’m Nancy Lyons. My husband is the barber and we own the bath house. I’ve seen you at church.”

  “Of course, I remember meeting you, Mrs. Lyons. How can I help you today?”

  The woman glanced around as if to insure they were alone. “I have this pain in my lower area. I hate the thought of going to a man even though I like Dr. Gaston. I thought maybe you could help.”

  “Please come to my exam room. If you could tell me more about this ache, I’ll try to diagnose the cause.”

  After discussion and examining Mrs. Lyons, Prudence knew the problem was beyond her skill. “Get dressed now and we’ll talk.”

  When Mrs. Lyons emerged from the exam room, she appeared worried. “It’s something real bad, isn’t it?”

  Prudence took the lady’s hand. “No, I’m sorry if I alarmed you. I want you to come with me to see Dr. Gaston. I can treat a wide range of problems, but I’m not trained for what you need.”

  “I don’t know. I-I hate to have a man, especially one I see all over town, examine me there.”

  Prudence turned her sign to Closed and led Mrs. Lyons. “Remember he’s trained as a physician and doesn’t think about patient examination as more than clinical. You’ve no need to be embarrassed.”

  They stepped onto the Gaston home’s steps and Prudence rang the bell. When Riley answered he appeared surprised to see her.

  Prudence gently tugged the other women into the reception area. “Mrs. Lyons would like to see you, Dr. Gaston.”

  The woman frowned. “That’s not true, Riley. Miss Lynch says I have to see you.”

  Prudence nudged her into the examination room. “Go ahead and get undressed. I see he has a sheet ready to cover your private area. While you do that, I’ll tell him what I found.” She closed the door on the patient.

  Riley stood with his hands in his pants’ pockets and a puzzled expression on his face. “What’s going on?”

  Prudence lowered her voice. “She has a tumor. I hope it’s not cancerous, but it’s causing her considerable pain. She came to me because she’s embarrassed to be examined by a man she sees socially. I’m sure you’ve encountered that before.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Many times, but it’s a small town and I know every woman here.”

  “I’ll leave her in your capable hands, Doctor. Good day.” Prudence left and hurried across the street.

  ***

  Riley watched Prudence walk to her office. Wasn’t this the durndest thing? Every time he thought he had her figured out, she did something to surprise him.

  His mother emerged from the living area. “Did I hear Prudence’s voice?”

  “You did, but she’d gone. She brought me a patient.” He turned and knocked on the exam room before he opened the door.

  He sat at the end of the exam table. “Now, Nancy, let’s see what’s causing you a problem.”

  “I hope you’re not mad because I went to your competitor.”

  He paused “We’re not competitors. Each of us wants to help patients feel as well as possible. We simply use different techniques.”

&nb
sp; His admission surprised him. He realized he’d spoken the truth. Even though he didn’t believe in Prudence’s methods, her intentions were good.

  Having her bring Nancy to him impressed the heck out of him. Maybe she wasn’t as much a menace as he’d believed.

  Riley’s examination proved Prudence’s diagnosis correct. He covered her with the sheet and moved where he could see her face. “Nancy, you have a tumor and it needs to come out.”

  She sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Oh, no, is it cancer?”

  “No, but the pain will increase. In addition, if this turns out to be pre-cancerous, you can’t afford to wait. You’ll have to have surgery and the sooner the better. Then you’ll need bed rest for a week and to take things easy for another month.”

  She accepted the handkerchief he handed her. “I want you to talk to Clinton. He might not want me to have surgery.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Of course he’ll want you out of pain and feeling better.” He helped her sit up on the bed.

  She swung her legs around so they dangled. “But I won’t be able to help with the bath house, will I?”

  “Temporarily. How much help can you be now that you’re in pain? If the tumor doesn’t come out, the pain will grow worse.”

  Nancy met his gaze. “If I have to have surgery, I want Miss Lynch there.”

  He exhaled in frustration. “Nancy, that’s not realistic. She’d have to close her business to be with you.”

  She set her jaw. “I don’t care. She’s comforting and I want her with me or I’m not having the surgery. I-I guess we could pay her.”

  He held up a hand in surrender. “Okay, I’ll ask her. We’ll schedule the surgery for Monday. That will allow Clinton to be here with you since that’s not your busy day.”

  “It is now that Miss Stuart sold Clinton an advertisement. Don’t you know we give a discount on Mondays?”

  “Then you might as well come tomorrow. Get your clothes back together and I’ll talk to you in my office.” He stepped out of the exam room.

  When the worried woman sat down in his office, he handed her a sheet of instructions. “Don’t eat anything after supper today. Be here at seven in the morning. Bring a nightgown with you. You’ll need to stay here overnight.”

 

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