But Aaron was in pain. He should be at least a little more patient and understanding, and now he needed to see about getting his brother some relief.
The sounds of industry drifted from the family’s quarters, but he didn’t dare pass through the doorway into their private rooms.
“Mrs. Bradley? Laura?” The moment the name slipped from his mouth, he wanted to call it back. He should have called her Miss Hannon. She’d never actually given him permission to use her Christian name, and he wasn’t certain when he’d started using it more than just in his thoughts. But in company, he needed to take more care to safeguard her reputation. People might assume there was more between them than friendship.
Soft steps sounded, walking his direction. His body tightened in anticipation. There was no denying he hoped it would be Laura. As much as he liked Mrs. Bradley, Laura had woven her way through his life and heart in a way no woman ever had. He was falling for her, although he shouldn’t be. He was in no position to care for a woman. But he’d need to have that talk with himself later.
Right now, Aaron had to be his focus.
Laura’s lithe form stepped through the doorway. Her smile looked a little weary as she wiped her hands on her apron, but she wasn’t using the walking sticks. That was a good sign. And even though her eyes didn’t shine as much as usual, she was still the prettiest thing he’d laid eyes on in months—maybe years.
His mouth stumbled over the words clogging his mind, and he worked to say something. Anything. “You’re not using the walking sticks?”
Well, maybe that wasn’t the smoothest opening he could have mustered, but her smile brightened. “Sometimes, but I don’t need them as much. What can I help you with?”
To the point. She’d not come to stand and make awkward small talk.
He did his best to push aside his disappointment. His own weariness must be muddling his brain. “Aaron seems to be in a lot of pain. Could he have some of the medicine?”
Her brow furrowed for a moment, then she nodded. “If he needs it. The doctor said he could have it up to twice a day. I administered some this morning, so I suppose it’s fine for another dose now.”
She moved down the hallway. A limp slowed her stride, and he had to bite back the desire to step close and help support her.
As she passed Aaron’s room, she motioned toward the door. “I’ll bring it in a second.”
That was probably her way of saying to go visit with his brother and stop ogling her.
Nate pulled his gaze from her pretty form and turned toward his brother’s room. He needed to keep his focus on what mattered right now. He couldn’t afford distractions, especially when it wasn’t fair to Laura to raise any hopes—if she even was remotely interested in a courtship between them. Even if he ever reached the place where he could offer for her hand, why should she consider him?
She deserved far more than an outlaw like him.
Delivering medicines to the east side of town was the least Laura could do. Doc Micah and Ingrid had done so much for her—still did so much every single day—and she struggled to find enough ways to repay them.
The doctor had been out late the night before with patients, and then the clinic had been nearly overrun that morning with people suffering all the ailments the winter season brought on. It was a good thing Doc Micah had finally allowed her to step out and help with these poor people suffering on the east side of town. He didn’t speak much of the cases he treated, but apparently there was something of an epidemic happening there. Fever and stomach complaints of the worst kinds.
He’d lost one of his most elderly patients two days before, and that seemed to be weighing heavily on him. She couldn’t imagine the weight of having so many people depending on him to make them well.
Lord, strengthen the doctor. Give him your healing touch. She needed to be more diligent to lift him up in prayer. Ingrid too.
She reached the first house Doc Micah had described—a small white-washed home about half the width of the buildings on either side of it. He’d left out the fact that the whitewashing had almost completely flaked off, and the boards that made up the walls looked like they would peel away next, as warped as they were.
The houses on either side weren’t in much better condition, although they were indeed larger. Still, four of these structures could fit inside the building that housed the clinic and Bradley residence.
The tiny house didn’t have a porch, so she stepped straight to the door and knocked. Voices sounded inside, and then the door scraped open. She couldn’t help widening her eyes at the dirt floor. Even the rough cabin she’d grown up in had a puncheon wood floor, and they’d not even lived in town. How much more work she would have had keeping house if they’d been forced to live in this little shanty.
She lifted her gaze to the worn, shadowed eyes of the man who opened the door. His hair stood in awkward spikes, and his shirt looked to be a soiled mess. She extended the cloth sack that held the elderberry tonic and willow bark tincture. “Doctor Bradley sent some medicines for Mrs. Wilkinson.”
The man took the bag and turned away to cough—a dry, barking sound. Then he looked back at her, whatever life his eyes had held now drained out of him. “Not many of us left, now that Ma’s passed. I hope this helps Penny.”
Pain twisted in her middle. This must be the home that lost the elderly woman two days before. She gripped her other delivery as she struggled for the right words. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Such a trivial statement. Yet what could she say that wouldn’t make his sorrow even greater? “If there’s anything else we can do, please don’t hesitate to send someone for us.” If only they would. But people didn’t usually reach out to others for help. At least she never had.
But maybe they wouldn’t hesitate when that help came from a doctor. She’d have to let Doc Micah know she wanted to do anything she could for these people.
Maybe helping them could be the purpose she’d been searching for. Although the thought of facing so much pain and misery again—and even death—made her stomach sour.
fourteen
After bidding the man farewell, Laura walked over to her other stop, a home one street over and three doors down. A blast of heat greeted her when the door opened, and the woman holding the knob looked as lifeless as the man at the first house. A flush lit her cheeks, and the paleness of her other features proved the bright color wasn’t her normal complexion.
But at least she had the benefit of a wood floor and a larger home. The paint wasn’t peeling as badly on this building, and the walls seemed in better condition. Still, the weary sag weighing the woman’s shoulders proved the better abode wasn’t easing her distress.
Laura handed over the satchel of medicines. “The doctor sent these and bid me help in any way you need. What can I do for you?” Doc Micah hadn’t exactly said that last part, but he would do the same if he were here. She should have thought to ask him exactly who was ill in each home. That way she could ask about each by name.
The woman shook her head. “There’s too much sickness here to let in outsiders. Tell the doc thanks for this.” She glanced behind her, giving Laura a view of the dim room. A fire crackled, and a smoky haze seemed to hover over the space, almost concealing the pile of blankets stretched out in front of the hearth. With the warmth emanating through the open door, anyone who lay that near the flame would be in danger of overheating.
A cough sounded from inside, and one of the blankets moved. People were lying in front of the fire.
“Thank you again.” The woman moved to shut the door, but Laura placed her hand on the barrier.
She took a small step closer. “How about if I come in and do some cleaning for you? A good airing-out will probably help you all feel better.”
The woman pulled her shawl up higher on her shoulders and shook her head. “Most of us have the chills. Can’t keep warm. I was just going out to get more wood for the fire.”
Laura nearly cringed a
t the thought of adding more heat to the little room. But as if to prove her words, a cold chill shook the woman’s thin shoulders. The shiver made her body sway so much that the only thing that held her upright may have been her hands on the door.
“Go rest yourself.” Laura motioned her into the room. “I’ll bring in wood.” She’d seen the stack along the side of the house.
The woman sank back with a nod and closed the door. A minute later, Laura approached that same door with an armload of dry pine. She didn’t knock this time, just opened it and stepped inside. The heat pressed like a suffocating blanket, but maybe wearing her own coat inside made it worse for her.
The woman knelt between two forms stretched under blankets. Her soft murmurs were soothing, but Laura couldn’t make out the words as she eased the logs down in the spot where bark and wood chips signaled that firewood had been placed there before.
She turned to the figures huddled under covers. She dropped to her knees beside one little head that poked above the blankets. Languid eyes stared up at her from the little girl’s face, who was maybe about the same age as Bright Sun. Dark shadows rimmed her eyes just above flushed cheeks, the only colors in her pale skin.
When Laura reached to brush the matted brown hair from the girl’s brow, her skin was almost too hot to touch. She sucked in a breath and looked up at the woman. “How long has she been this warm?”
“Two days. I’m doin’ everything the doc said—wet cloths, lots of water to drink, bits of stew. I just gave her that elderberry tonic. Now we just wait for it to pass.” The resignation in the woman’s voice made it sound like she’d given up. But as Laura studied her, she was pretty sure this woman was simply exhausted. Maybe even ill herself.
“You need to leave now, miss.” Her gaze dropped to the lad lying in front of her, his eyes closed in sleep. “These two are mine, and I’ll be the one to care for them. You’d best get far away from this part of town. They say the sickness is catchin’ in the air. The last thing we need is you takin’ ill and makin’ the doc and his wife sick, too. ’Specially with her expectin’.”
She was right. Laura had to be careful not to bring this malady home to Ingrid. But the thought of leaving these people in such a state felt just shy of heartless.
“We have the medicine now. I ’spect these two’ll be perking up before the sun sets. You’d best get back to helpin’ the doctor.” The woman spoke the words with a firmness that seemed to take a great deal of strength.
Laura nodded. She didn’t want her presence to make things harder, and this determined mother was right about needing to be mindful of Ingrid’s delicate condition. After stroking the girl’s hair one more time, she pushed to her feet. “Please send someone for us if you need anything at all. Either the doctor or I will be back to check on you soon.”
The woman nodded and turned to pull a dripping cloth from a basin of water.
As Laura let herself out the door, the weight on her chest made it hard to breathe, even with the blast of fresh air. What could she do to help these people? The stench of sickness reminded her too much of those last days before Pa died. His illness had been brought on by the barrels of drink he consumed, but the suffocating weight of despair had been almost the same as what she’d just felt.
The sensation made her want to run far, far away. Just like she had before.
Nate stepped into the mercantile just as Lanton was striding across the room, key in hand. He’d just barely arrived before closing time.
The man paused to nod at him, then turned to walk back around behind the counter. “Evening. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it by tonight or not.” His tone sounded light, as though whether Nate came to make his payment or not was of little consequence.
If only Nate could feel the same way. The weight of the restitution he still had to work off pressed down like a heavy yoke. He pulled out the bag of gold dust he’d just been paid at the mine and laid it on the counter. “I’ll always be here on payment days if there’s any way I can come before you close.”
Lanton gave him a look much softer than Nate deserved. “I know you will, son. I don’t worry about you.” He took the bag and set it on the scale, then bent low to read the weight. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Turning, he pulled a ledger from a shelf behind him and thumbed until he found the page he sought.
He laid the book on the counter and turned toward Nate. “I heard from the sheriff in Virginia City this week. Said this is all he’s been able to track down so far. Here’s our new total.”
Nate stared at the sum, his mind doing the math of what would still be outstanding. He’d given Lanton a list of all the people and businesses they’d robbed—those he could recall, anyway—and the man sent inquiries to those people to find out how much needed to be paid in restitution. So far, the responses equaled half of what Nate knew to be their total debt. Would the others respond, too?
If they did, the sum would be staggering. Without his brother’s help to work off the debt, Nate would be toiling at least half a lifetime to finish paying this restitution—and that was if he kept up his current lifestyle of living with almost no expenses. That may not be possible much longer if he didn’t make more progress on a cabin.
“Just make your mark here.” Lanton held a pen out to Nate and pointed beside the payment he’d just entered into the ledger. “I’ll sign beside yours.”
Nate took the pen and signed his name, then pushed the book back. As glad as he was to have the amount owed drop a little more, seeing the numbers in bold ink pressed hard on his chest.
He worked hard to push the melancholy aside. “One other thing.”
Lanton looked up from tucking away the ledger. “Yep?”
“Do you know of anyone in town missing some crates of supplies? I saw some in a cave out past the mine. I can’t imagine someone lost them, and I don’t want to think they’re stolen, but just thought I’d inquire.” The last thing he wanted was for someone to think he’d stolen the goods.
The man studied him, then offered a slow, thoughtful nod. “I’m glad you said something. But no, I’ve not heard of anyone missing supplies. How many crates did you say?”
Nate scanned his memory of the stacked boxes. “At least a dozen. Marked as peaches, hunting knives, sewing notions, among others.”
The grooves in Lanton’s brow deepened. “I’d have heard if that much went missing. I’ll keep an ear out, though.”
After thanking the lawman, he stepped out on the street, then headed toward the clinic. No matter how weary he was, he had to take a few minutes to check on his brother.
And maybe, just maybe, Laura would be around, the one bright spot in a week of drudgery. Was he a terrible brother for being more excited about the prospect of seeing her than his own flesh and blood? His twin, at that.
Aaron had been so grumpy of late, almost unbearable. Probably because the exercises were painful. But they were making him stronger. Nate had seen the evidence of it the night before when Aaron had lifted his leg a handbreadth off the floor.
Thank you, God. That single feat wouldn’t be possible if the leg weren’t healing. A fresh surge of relief washed through him, pushing back some of his exhaustion.
He stepped onto the clinic’s porch, then pulled open the door. The light and warmth inside pulled him like the star drew the wise men to Bethlehem.
“Nate. Come in where it’s warm.”
Laura’s voice thawed his insides more than the heat drifting down the hallway. He turned to see her stepping from the examination room, a broom in one hand and a stack of cloths in the other. Her smile truly was a ray of sunshine, lighting the dim hallway and spreading even to the darkness outside. “You’re later than usual tonight. Does that mean you stopped to see our friends in the cave?”
He shook his head. “I wish I could have. Had business in the mercantile.”
“You look exhausted. And cold.” Laura stepped nearer and reached up to press a hand to his cheek.
The warmth of her
skin singed like fire on his face, yet her touch soothed in a way that made him want to reach up and hold her hand there.
She jerked back, maybe as surprised by her action as he’d been. Quickly, she turned down the hallway. “Come back to the kitchen where the fire is. I have coffee heating to warm you.”
He hesitated. The Bradleys were always friendly, but he’d never invaded their personal space. The way the building was divided into separate clinic and living quarters made it seem wrong to step through the doorway at the far end of the hall.
Laura paused halfway to that door and turned back to him. “It’s fine. Ingrid’s back here, too. She was just saying a few minutes ago that she wanted to ask you about helping the doctor with one of his projects.”
Helping the doctor. Yes, he owed the man so much for his care and patience with Aaron that he needed to seize any opportunity to repay his kindness. “All right.” He stepped forward. Like a beacon in the night, she led him through the doorway and down a dimly lit corridor. The kitchen shone brightly ahead, and a silhouetted figure walked across the space beyond the doorframe.
“Ingrid, I brought Nate for some coffee to warm him.” Laura spoke even before stepping into the kitchen. Probably to warn the doctor’s wife they weren’t alone.
He shouldn’t have come back here. Shouldn’t be alone with these two women. Laura didn’t seem bothered by rules of propriety. Not that he really knew what those rules were, but he knew this felt like an invasion of their privacy.
But as Mrs. Bradley turned from the stove with a smile, she motioned toward the rectangular table. “That’s wonderful. I’ve been wanting to invite you back for a decent meal, but I haven’t wanted to take away from your time with your brother. Now that you’re in my kitchen, we finally get to feed you.”
The thought of something cooked warm and fresh made his mouth water, and his belly twisted as it tried to convince him he couldn’t subsist on salted meat and corn mush.
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