by Betty Bolte
"Father insists the treatment I administered will work." Trent dropped her hand when they reached Benjamin. "You should be feeling better by morning, Benjamin."
His words removed the last fragments of distraction. Affronted by his tone, she folded her hands rather than retaliate. She'd suggested he try something new, so couldn't in good conscience rebuke him. But must he be so calm about his approach?
Amy regarded her for a long moment and then smiled. "Is there something you two have forgotten to tell us?"
Samantha frowned as Trent turned to her, one brow raised in question. She contemplated the humor in Amy's expression. "Not that I am aware of. Why?"
"Are you two courting?" Amy covered Benjamin's hand with both of hers. "Might you be following our lead for a change?"
Samantha gaped at Amy. Dismay and embarrassment contorted deep inside, beyond reach of any physical ability to assuage or smooth the sensation away. Could her friend perceive the physical reaction she experienced at Trent's touch? If so, who else detected it? She'd die of humiliation if any one else had noticed. "How absurd. Of course not."
Amy tilted her head, regarding Samantha for a moment before chuckling. "Have it your way."
Trent grinned and winked at Samantha as he addressed Amy. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Miss Amy. Miss Samantha and I have not explored a personal relationship, only a professional one. Though I am open to such a venture if she might consider it."
She blinked at him as one brow lifted as though of its own accord. As tempting as his lips might be, a relationship of any kind was out of the question. "If we're quite finished, I have many tasks and other patients to attend. Come, Thistle." She didn't need to stay and be subjected to such a proposition. Especially when her visceral reaction attested to the desire for a closer acquaintance than accepted as proper. She clutched her medicine bag like a shield as the spaniel took up her position at her side. "Call for me if you should need further assistance."
"Wait, Samantha. Speaking of assistance, would you permit me to help you with your packing? If Benjamin doesn't mind, of course." Amy motioned to Benjamin, and then smiled at Samantha. "Unless you'd rather do it alone?"
"If your betrothed doesn't object, your assistance and companionship are most welcome, as long as your rumors are kept to a minimum." She squinted at Amy. "Perhaps Evelyn would sit with Benjamin for a while?"
"I shall ask her." Amy rose and bent over Benjamin to kiss his cheek. Slowly, she released his hand. "I'll see you later."
"I'll miss your sweet smile." Benjamin reached for her hand and she placed it in his again. He kissed the back of it and then winked at her. "I'll be here waiting for you to return."
With a last kiss, Amy strode to Samantha's side and clasped hands with her. "One day, you'll find someone to love and cherish as I do Benjamin. Do not fret."
"I beg to differ, my friend, since my vow remains intact." Samantha caught Trent smiling at her and focused on Amy's sincere expression. She meant well. If only she understood the reasons for why Samantha had sworn off marriage, perhaps Amy wouldn't be so quick to force the issue. "Come. There is much to do."
* * *
The apartment door closed behind the ladies and the tan and white dog with a distant thud. Trent stared toward the common room door, imagining the threesome walking down the steps. As reluctant as Samantha had been to accept the dog's presence, the beast gave her a bit of protection while she lived alone in the huge house. He dragged a chair over to sit beside Benjamin, where he reclined against the headboard. The ailing man regarded him with amusement plain on his face.
"What diverts you so?" Trent lowered himself onto the hard seat, his tired legs grateful for the respite. He'd walked all over town, investigating possible locations for his hospital. Not that he'd found one, but he did have a great appreciation for the diversity of Charles Town.
"You're expression. Miss Amy is right, isn't she?" Benjamin shifted, wincing as he resettled against the pillows. "Regarding you and Miss Samantha?"
Trent perched on the chair, tension preventing him from relaxing against the wood frame. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid she is wrong, though perhaps in a different life, a different world as it were, our coming together might have been possible."
A weak grin worked onto Benjamin's face. "She's quite a woman. I believe she is your equal in many ways, if I'm not mistaken."
"How do you mean?" Trent tapped one fist into the other palm, considering his friend's observation. Should he be affronted by such a claim? Or dismiss it out of hand? Or be overjoyed at the endorsement of a relationship with the most tantalizing woman he'd ever met? His friend surely wouldn't jokingly slight him in such a manner without some foundation.
"She has a true gift for ascertaining the heart of an illness, for helping without harming." Benjamin rubbed the pads of three fingers across his forehead and frowned. "I trust her as much as I trust you. Between the two of you, I know you will help me."
Trent stiffened when Benjamin's meaning sunk into his brain, crossing his arms as he pondered the evident pain in his patient's countenance. "I dare say, with all due respect, I have more training than a midwife."
"She's more than a typical midwife or even as a healer." Benjamin rested his head against the headboard, peering at Trent through nearly closed eyes. "She's learned the ways of the Indians. Journeyed to the west, to the very frontier, and studied with the medicine men of the Creek and the Cherokee."
Idiotic. Intriguing. Impressive. What had she gleaned from such an experience? The bigger question remained: what was she thinking, exposing herself to the primitive savages on the edge of civilization? "I trust the education she received proved worth the risk she put her life in?"
"Her skills are without question among the best in the region. Though, admittedly, she's not infallible." Benjamin chuckled and coughed, making him cough even more for several minutes before he could continue. "Forgive me. As I was saying, everybody makes mistakes."
Poorly trained doctors could cause as much harm as ignorant midwives. Trent had witnessed the results of their kind before he elected to become a doctor in his own right. Mangled legs from disease eating away the flesh after a botched amputation by an untrained hand. Animal butchers who acted as though there was no difference between cutting up a side of hog and cutting off a limb. Women, like his mother, who endured one pregnancy after another for a score of years, ultimately dying from complications within their feminine organs. Having a large family was not worth the inherent risks. He sniffed back tears, waving a hand in front of his face to ward off an invisible fly as he did so. He could only hope Samantha wouldn't betray his trust in her, slim as it might be. He hoped for her trust in him to grow, and he planned to do whatever he could to see the eventuality occur sooner than later.
Trent tapped a hand on his elbow as he skimmed Benjamin's expression. "Fortunately, an end to the questionable abilities in town will arrive in due course. I shall build a better hospital as soon as possible. One where everyone may be treated with skill and respect and without fear of inadequate or unproven methods. I aim to surpass my father's capabilities as a physician."
"That's quite an ambition." Benjamin studied his friend, shifting his hips to a different position. "Will you include the accepted ways, or adhere to the newer techniques?"
Trent uncrossed his arms and leaned onto his elbows. "If I have my way, the old traditions will not be employed within my hospital. I have no interest in continuing such disproven practices."
"You wish to end Miss Samantha's practice then?" Benjamin stared at him for two heartbeats then closed his eyes, folded his arms over his stomach, and sighed. "She'll fight you. She's a strong woman, which is a good thing given her present situation."
"You mean her parents' departure?" Trent recalled her sweet scent as he had comforted her while she sobbed. He'd never seen any one keen with so much grief and pain interwoven into each gasping wail, not even after a loving spouse or parent had died. But only for a short period of time did she permit hers
elf to bawl before comporting herself. Though slender, he'd detected the strength of her body in his arms as well as the depth of her resolve. Thinking on it, he agreed with Benjamin. The woman had a strong character. "What will she do?"
"First, she'll need a new home." Benjamin rubbed his temple as he opened his eyes. "I cannot believe her father would abandon her, capable as she may be. He should have insisted on her accompanying them."
"From her reaction, she would not have gone with them. In the event, their departure left her in spasms of grief for no little time. She's fortunate to have Thistle as a companion to help ease her loneliness." Trent smoothed his hands down the thighs of his trousers. "I warrant the dog's presence helps relieve the anguish she felt at her parents' departure."
"Yes, it is happy the dog came along when it did." Benjamin blinked at Trent, as though to clear his vision.
"I found it curious her mother bore no trace of regret at leaving, though her tears appeared sincere enough." Trent peered at Benjamin, noticing increased tension on his face. "From the rumors I've heard, 'tis no loss to the town, either. Her practices were well enough feared by many."
"Samantha is more skilled than her mother. The older woman fast approaches the end of her midwifery days." Benjamin shifted to lay down in the bed, pulling the quilt up to cover his waist.
"What is amiss, my friend?" Trent leaned forward.
Benjamin screwed his eyes closed, gripping the edge of the quilt with both hands. "Bloody hell, but I ache all over. Have you anything?"
"Of course." Trent sprang to his feet and placed a hand on Benjamin's forehead. "I shall give you a strong enema to try one more time to balance the humors. I will help you. Don't worry."
Trent strode to his bag where it waited on the side table, and removed what he needed to prepare the medicine. He approached Benjamin, gritting his teeth with the hope the treatment would work. In order to prove his concepts superior to the old wives' tales, he must heal Benjamin. A stray thought suggested he summon Samantha, inquire as to her opinion on the next course. But his desire to move the town forward with regard to the emerging techniques and practices kept him silent. In the process of making his point, however, he might also destroy Samantha's only means of support in the absence of her father's protection. He might also destroy the basis upon which she'd begin to trust him. Nevertheless, the enema must be applied. Benjamin must be cared for with every potential cure they could reasonably expect to work. The rest of the concerns drifting through his mind as he prepared the applicator to administer the enema would be untangled in due course. He had to believe as much, since he had no solution to offer her. For the present, he'd focus on the task before him and hope for a miracle to resolve Samantha's predicament.
* * *
Thistle wagged her way down the street in front of Samantha and Amy. The dog's friendship had also wiggled its way into Samantha's heart. She'd thought the beast would prove too much trouble to feed and care for, but in truth, taking care of Thistle created bright spots in her otherwise dreary days.
"I'm not prepared to move as of yet," Samantha said, strolling along beside her friend, enjoying the early winter sunshine on her face. Thistle trotted off, nose to the ground, to investigate a scent. "In fact, I have not received notice to vacate the property. Your assistance, therefore, may be premature."
"I still find it hard to fathom the predicament you are in. I'm glad to see what I can do to help, though." Amy nodded to a passing townswoman. "Benjamin's condition is holding its own for the moment. I'll return to his side shortly, after I speak to my sister about helping me care for him. With all honesty, I cannot stay there all day and night and still meet my other obligations."
"With the war ending, has your smuggling ended as well?" Samantha chuckled at the wiggling dog, her head and shoulders buried in the base of a bush, tail wagging.
"For a time." Amy looked around her as though afraid she'd be overheard. "We shall see if that activity has come to a complete end within a few weeks."
Samantha flicked a glance at Amy and then noted her surroundings, relishing the crispness to the light breeze scuttling leaves down the street. The weather would change ere long, and leisurely strolls would be abandoned in lieu of brisk trots between buildings. "What do you know?"
"Nothing definite."
"Are the Britons leaving very soon?" Samantha kept her pace even, but her heart raced along with her thoughts. Thistle bounded back to trot at her side, content again to be Samantha's companion. At least until the next intriguing trail presented itself to Thistle's sensitive nose.
Amy remained silent as she nodded to the loyalist rector of St. Michael's as he strode past in a rush. Soon he'd be out of a post, and a patriotic rector would be reinstalled. After he'd moved out of earshot, Amy grinned at Samantha. "The next favorable tide, whenever such occurs."
"Welcome news, indeed."
The brutal, bloody British couldn't evacuate Charles Town soon enough to meet her desires. If only the loyalists did not fear such retaliation from the patriots, then her family would not have been ripped apart, scattered to different lands. She must look to her own future and determine a suitable place to live and continue her healing practice. The means to secure both were at her fingertips in the house, though she would need to transfer them to her new abode. She had refrained from descending upon her friends for succor, unwilling to take advantage of their friendship for an extended period of time. Perhaps she could find a family in town in need of a boarder. Buying her herbs might prove challenging, but she could locate many of the plants in the forests surrounding town. The apothecary carried most of the other items she needed. Yes, she had recourse to ways to provide for herself despite her parents' defection. She reached to pat Thistle and smiled at Amy.
"What's brought such a gorgeous smile to your face?" Amy aimed a questioning smile at Samantha. "You look happy."
"I believe I am." Samantha perused the street, noting the serious expressions and hurried steps. Everyone seemed to be intent on their own private missions, but with a new air of purpose and anticipation. "My future looks quite bright, in fact."
"Hallo!"
Samantha whirled about, her long skirts wrapping about her legs as she stopped, spotting Frank striding toward her, Emily on his arm. "Good morning."
Thistle edged in front of Samantha, tail wagging slowly as she watched the couple approach. The happy pair sported blond curly hair and similar eyes, hers blue and his gray. Even their attire complemented: he in dark trousers with a white shirt, gold waistcoat, and snowy cravat peeking out from beneath his dark gray cloak. Emily's ebony cloak covered a mourning dove gray dress visible as the heavy cloth shifted with her movements. They belonged together. If Samantha could read auras, she'd wager theirs would reveal a blend of contentment and delight. If only she possessed such an ability perhaps her efforts to heal Benjamin would be better informed.
"Good day, friends." Amy stepped forward to hug Emily and then moved back beside Samantha. "What brings you out this morning?"
Emily tapped a hand on Frank's arm. "We've been searching out appropriate material for new drapes. Frank's connections have proven excellent resources."
"It's truly impressive how many people one meets when running a printing business." Frank tilted his head toward Emily, a pensive smile on his lips. "I may continue being a newsman even after the British leave. The pretense yields many wonderful connections."
"I pray you do." Emily grinned at him. "Your position makes my efforts worthwhile." Emily gasped and covered her mouth, eyes wide as her horrified gaze flitted from one person to another.
"You can forget the act, my dear cousin." Amy laughed, glancing to Frank and Samantha before sliding her laughing expression back to Emily. "You're the mysterious essayist Penny Marsh, aren't you?"
"Wh-what do you mean?" Emily's hesitant grin belied her stammered question.
"You can't fool your friends on such an important matter." Samantha chuckled and then hugged Emily. "I
applaud your daring and your insights which you share in the marvelous essays we've all read in the broadside."
"Indeed. But why did you not share your secret with us?" Amy huffed, obviously pretending to be offended. "Do you not trust us to keep your activities in confidence?"
"Shhh!" Emily cast a frantic glance about her. "Do not speak so loudly. If Father learns of my scribbles, he'll disavow me immediately after he denounces my writing. You know he does not approve."
"Then you'll want to avoid my mother as well," Amy said, merriment dancing in her eyes. "She intends to dissuade you from opening a shop upon your next meeting."
Emily groaned, briefly rubbing two fingers across her furrowed brow. "Am I to have no assistance with my true desires?"
Frank drew her closer to his side, wrapping one arm around her slender shoulders. "I have begun making inquiries into your chosen location. Be patient, my sweet."
Thistle woofed at a black tom cat slinking along the foundations of the brick houses lining the street. Turning hopeful eyes to Samantha, she wagged her bushy tail. Samantha tapped her thigh and the dog reluctantly sidled into position by her side. Such a smart girl, learning hand signals as though she understood Samantha's intent. As the dog sat down to wait, Samantha noticed she'd put on some weight. Time to cut back on the table scraps. Musing on possible changes to the dog's diet, Samantha again focused on her friends.
Emily frowned and shook her head. "Patience is not one of my strengths."
"Yes, be aware of her inability to wait for events to come to pass." Amy pulled her cloak more snugly about her shoulders as the wind gusted around them. "I'm so cold."
Samantha nodded, aware the temperature of the air had dropped during their walk. "We should be on our way."
"Fare thee well, ladies." Frank made a half bow with a flourish of one hand.
Emily hugged her friends quickly and then took Frank's arm. Samantha smirked as she recalled how resistant Emily had once been to performing the simple courteous act. Seemed falling in love softened the most recalcitrant heart. She had avoided all contact with Frank, in a futile effort to protect her heart. Emily's vow to never marry verged on becoming a life forever with the man at her side.