Pony Express Special Delivery

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Pony Express Special Delivery Page 9

by Rhonda Gibson


  “Good, then I’ll make the arrangements.” Clayton turned his attention to driving the wagon.

  The remainder of the trip to town went swiftly. Maggie enjoyed the cool breeze in her face. The temperatures were warming up each day. She spotted what looked like new buds on the trees and longed for summer. Maybe she would ask if the general store had gotten any seeds for gardening after all.

  Clayton pulled up in front of the store and set the brake. He jumped down and helped Dinah from the wagon. “Stay on the boardwalk.”

  “All right.” She wrapped her arms around her doll and waited.

  He turned back to the buggy and took baby James from Maggie. She felt his broad hand on her back as she climbed from the wagon. Once on solid ground again, Maggie turned and took the baby from Clayton.

  His eyes met hers as he handed the child over. “I’m going to walk over to Doc Anderson’s office. I intended to return his book the last time we were in town, but a few urgent matters occupied my mind that day.” He grinned broadly and his dark eyebrows arched mischievously. “Like giving up my freedom to become a married man.”

  Maggie swatted him with the diaper she held. “Behave yourself, Clayton Young. No one held your hand to the fire.”

  He let out a long, exaggerated sigh. When she stepped aggressively toward him he held both hands up in surrender. He chuckled and a trace of laughter remained in his voice when next he spoke.

  “I’ll be back in a bit to get you and the kids. Don’t worry about loading the wagon. I’ll take care of that when I return.” Clayton reached under the seat and pulled out the books he’d borrowed from the doctor.

  Maggie asked, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  Clayton stepped up beside her. “Not that I can think of. You and the children take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” With long purposeful strides, he walked in the opposite direction of the store.

  Maggie watched him go. Why did she want him to talk to her so much? Most of the time, he seemed to be pushing her away, and she understood that to some degree. Yet at others, like just now, Clayton drew her in and made her feel wanted, cherished. The truth was, she was afraid to get too close to him, too. But she also needed adult conversations. Would he understand when she confronted him later? She hoped so, because Maggie refused to sit idly by while he ran the ranch and interacted with men all day but ignored her in the evenings.

  * * *

  Clayton dragged his feet as he walked to the doctor’s office. He rubbed the spine of the book in his hand with his thumb. This was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever made, but for the sake of his new family, Clayton would give up doctoring. The Pony Express and the ranch kept him so busy that he had no time to study. The ranch alone was becoming a full-time job. He’d fallen into bed each night without cracking open the medical book.

  Doc Anderson came out of the building just as Clayton arrived. “Well, hello, Clayton. Good to see you.” His gaze moved to the book. “Have you finished that book already?”

  “No. But since Maggie wanted to come to town for supplies today, I decided to go ahead and return the book.” He walked toward the doctor with the books extended.

  The doctor crossed his arms over his chest. He looked strange with the big black bag tucked under one arm. “You haven’t finished reading it?”

  Again, Clayton answered, “No.”

  “Then why are you bringing it back? Was it too hard for you to read?” He fixed his gaze on Clayton’s eyes.

  Clayton smiled. “No, I’ve just decided I don’t have time to study doctoring right now.” He squirmed under the doctor’s steady scrutiny, aware that the doctor had been reading people’s expressions for years and even now was trying to decipher what Clayton was thinking. Was his face readable?

  Doc Anderson dropped his arms but didn’t take the book. “I’m headed over to the sawmill. One of the men out there has a nasty cut. I thought I’d go see how he’s doing. Why don’t you come along?”

  Clayton looked back toward Main Street. “I left the family at the general store.”

  “Won’t take but just a few minutes and it will give us time to talk about this decision of yours.” He walked past Clayton.

  Raised to obey his elders, Clayton followed. He tucked the book under his arm.

  When Clayton came even with him, the doctor said, “You know, son, if you wait until you have time to study, you will never study.”

  Clayton rubbed his chin. “I believe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew,” he confessed. “The ranch is a lot more work than I expected. Along with my Pony Express job there is no time for studying, and I don’t know how to make more time in a day.” He paused. “Do you?”

  Doc Anderson laughed and then said, “I’m a doctor, not a clockmaker.”

  Puzzled, Clayton frowned. “Then what is the purpose of me going with you?”

  “To help, of course.”

  Clayton hurried to keep up. “I’m always willing to help.”

  “Just as I suspected.” The doctor led the way to the sawmill, his head held high and the black bag in his hand swinging as he walked.

  Clayton shook his head and continued onward to the sawmill. Once there he followed the doctor inside.

  They were met by the owner. “Here to see Marshall again today, Doc?”

  “Yep. Joshua, is he in the back?”

  Joshua nodded to Clayton.

  The doctor looked from one man to the other. “You two had a chance to get acquainted yet?”

  “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Clayton answered, extending his hand. “I’m Clayton Young.”

  “Joshua Kimball. Nice to meet you.” His handshake was firm yet respectful.

  Clayton nodded. “I’m working out at the Fillmore Ranch, so I may be needing a few items come spring.”

  The doctor snorted. “He’s more than the foreman.”

  “That so?” Joshua narrowed his eyes at Clayton.

  “Don’t be thinking he lied to you. He’s the foreman all right, but he’s also the Pony Express station manager and Maggie’s new husband.” The doctor grinned as if he’d just introduced the town mayor.

  A lopsided grin touched Joshua’s face. “Good. Maggie needs a good man to help her out around there. Gus Fillmore is about the most worthless piece of human flesh I’ve ever known.”

  Inwardly, Clayton sighed. He’d been afraid Joshua was one of Gus’s many friends. His shoulders relaxed and he returned the man’s smile.

  “Well, if you two are just going to stand there grinning like a couple of dandies, I’m thinking it’s time we go check on Marshall.” He turned and walked through another door at the back of the small building.

  Clayton followed. When they stepped out into the yard, he was amazed at the size of the sawmill. There were logs and various boards of all kinds stacked about. Two men worked near the oversize saw and two others stacked boards against the back wall of the building. His gaze moved about the large space. It was bigger than the main barn at the ranch and seemed airier. The smell of fresh sawdust and pine resin made him want to build something. He shook his head. All he needed to add to his schedule was a building project. But, boy, it sure was tempting just because of the smell.

  Doc Anderson headed toward the two men who were stacking boards. “Marshall, how’s that ankle feeling today?”

  The younger of the two looked up. He waved. “Howdy, Doc. It is still sore but I think it’s better.” He sat down on a pile of boards and began removing his work boot.

  Clayton watched as Marshall revealed a jagged cut across his ankle. It was red and swollen. This was better? And just sore?

  “What do you think, Clayton?”

  He looked up and realized the doctor had been watching his expression. Clayton knelt in front of the injured man. “I’m Clay
ton Young. Do you mind if I get a closer look?”

  Marshall nodded his consent.

  Clayton picked up his foot and felt along the wound. Heat radiated from the cut. He gently pressed and it opened. Clayton looked up at the doctor. “Infection has set in.”

  Doc Anderson frowned and nodded. “Have you been washing the cut every night like I told you to?” he asked Marshall.

  “Naw, washing it isn’t going to make it feel any better.”

  Clayton slowly lowered the man’s foot. “The washing isn’t to make it feel better. It’s to clean the wound so that we won’t have to cut your foot off later.” He stood.

  The man yelped. “Cut my foot off? Doc, who is this lunatic?”

  Doc Anderson frowned at the man. “He’s studying medicine and is right. I didn’t tell you to wash it so that it’d feel better. Warm soapy water cleans up cuts and keeps them from getting worse.”

  Marshall began putting his boot back on. He frowned up at Clayton. “Ain’t nobody gonna cut off my foot.”

  Clayton chuckled. “I didn’t say we were. I said that keeping it clean will prevent it from having to be cut off.”

  He ignored Clayton. “I ain’t never heard of washing a cut so that it will get better.”

  Doc Anderson nodded. “No, probably not. Most doctors don’t have folks keep a wound clean. But I’ve discovered in my years of doctoring that if the patient follows my orders and washes the wound, it gets better faster.” He dropped a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Why don’t you stop by my office after work? We’ll get you cleaned up and prevent Clayton here from chopping off your foot.” He laughed, taking the sting out of his words.

  “Yes, sir.” Marshall pulled his boot back on. He stood.

  Clayton saw him wince and frowned. It was obvious Marshal was in pain. He wanted to do something to help him feel better. How had the young man gotten the cut in the first place? And how long ago?

  “Well, I suppose we should get you back to town, Clayton.” Doc turned to look at Marshall. “And I expect to see you as soon as you get off work. Don’t make me come back here tomorrow, or I might just bring my butcher’s knife and finish off that foot for you.” His voice held a hint of teasing, but his eyes remained steady on the young man.

  “I’ll be there,” Marshall said.

  Clayton and the doctor walked back to the doctor’s office. The doctor remained silent and seemed to be deep in his own thoughts. Clayton’s thoughts went to Marshall and his infected ankle. He wanted to help the young man, and that longing outweighed his desire to ranch. How was he going to give up his dream of becoming a doctor?

  Doc Anderson said, “You know, you could always hire a new foreman for the ranch.”

  He chuckled. “Do you know anyone looking for a ranch job? Because I sure don’t.” Clayton ran his hand over the book. Why did he feel this desire to read the silly thing from cover to cover? Why had talking to Marshall reminded him that he was put on this earth to help others?

  “Not off the top of my head. But I’m sure with a little word of mouth, we could find someone.” The doctor stopped in front of his office. “Look, Clayton, I’m not here to tell you how to run your life, but I saw your face today. You were curious and wanted to look at that wound. Then you were a tad angry to learn he hadn’t followed doctor’s orders, and last, you simply wanted to help him. You still do.”

  Clayton nodded.

  The doctor leaned against the whitewashed fence. “Why do you want to be a doctor?”

  The question took Clayton by surprise. “I hate to see others suffer.”

  “And who did you see suffering?”

  Clayton used the tip of his boot to scrape a mud clod off a rock. How did a man tell another man that he’d watched his parents die from a high fever? Clayton had only been eight but had decided then and there that if he could learn how to make people better, he would. “My parents.”

  The doctor nodded. “For me, it was my sister. She fell in the river and drowned. We pulled her out but she strangled on the water in her lungs. I vowed on the spot that I’d do everything in my power to learn how to keep people from drowning and dying.” He grew silent for a few moments. Clayton assumed he was reliving the past. Then the doctor continued. “At the time, I didn’t realize what I’d promised, but as I studied I realized that if I could save one person, my sister’s death wouldn’t be in vain.”

  Clayton understood the doctor’s feelings. Every time God allowed him to help someone else get through a sickness or saw their bodies healed, he felt as if he were honoring his parents. To others that might seem foolish, but it made sense to him.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Son, I’ll help you fulfill your promise to them, but neither one of us is getting any younger so we have to do it now.” His gaze moved to the book in Clayton’s hands.

  He nodded. “All right. I’ll try.”

  Doc Anderson slapped him on the back. “That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

  Clayton left the doctor’s office feeling good about his decision but also worrying about the ranch. How was Maggie going to feel when he suggested that they hire a foreman to take over the running of the ranch? Would she think he’d lied to her? After all, he’d said he could take care of the ranch, the Pony Express and their family.

  Chapter Nine

  Maggie jiggled baby James. The little fella had woken up ten minutes earlier and was demanding lunch. She looked about the general store for a quiet corner. Seeing none, she wished Clayton would return. She’d thought he’d be gone only a few minutes, but those minutes had turned into an hour.

  Over the baby’s meowing cry, Dinah said, “Sissy, I’m ready to go.”

  She looked down at her little sister. “I know, I’m about ready, too.”

  Mrs. Fisher looked up from the front counter. “I’m sorry Billy isn’t here to play with you today,” she said to Dinah. “He and his papa will be back tomorrow.”

  Dinah looked up at Maggie with big eyes. “Sissy, can we come back tomorrow?”

  Even though she hated to disappoint the little girl, Maggie answered honestly. “I’m afraid not, Dinah. We’ll be back Sunday for morning services.”

  “Aw...that’s not fair. I want to come back and play,” Dinah fussed.

  “Don’t sass your sister.”

  James quieted his cries and turned his little head about as if looking for the source of Clayton’s voice. Maggie turned around. “When did you come in?”

  He grinned. “A few moments ago.” Clayton laid his hand on Dinah’s shoulder. “Long enough to hear this one sassing you.”

  Dinah grinned up at him. “I didn’t mean to sass.” She turned her gaze on Maggie. “I’m sorry, Sissy.”

  Maggie shook her head. Dinah’s sour face changed faster than a kitten could lap up milk. She looked from Dinah to Clayton. She noted that he held two books in his hand. “How was your visit with Doc Anderson?”

  Clayton picked up a spice bottle and took a whiff. He curled his nose at the strong smell. “Good. He said to keep studying.” He replaced the bottle.

  “Can we go now?” Dinah tugged at her hand.

  Maggie nodded. She was ready and so was James. He’d begun fussing once more.

  “Mr. Young, I have your supplies all boxed up.” Mrs. Fisher indicated two large boxes and a smaller one that sat beside the counter.

  He grinned. “Thank you, Mrs. Fisher.” Clayton set his two books on top of the larger boxes. “Dinah, would you mind carrying the smaller box?” he asked.

  The little girl skipped toward him. She tucked her doll under one arm and then took the box from him. “Look, Sissy, I’m helping.”

  Her pleased face melted Maggie’s heart. Since Clayton had arrived, Dinah had become a happy little girl again. Maggie wished her sister could have know
n their father better. He’d been a kind man with a big heart. But then, he’d left them. Mother always said that she hadn’t been surprised. The woman he’d left with had a sad story and knew how to manipulate her father to get him to do anything, including leaving his family. Ma had insisted it didn’t mean that Papa hadn’t loved his girls, just that he’d felt sorry for the other woman and her children.

  Maggie didn’t care what his reasons were. Their father had deserted them. Yes, he’d been kind, but he’d also betrayed the ones he should have protected. She shook the hurtful thoughts from her mind.

  Both Dinah and Clayton stood staring at her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was woolgathering.” She hurried to the door and pulled it open. The feeling of heat entering her face betrayed her.

  As he passed, the scent of his shaving lotion drifted down and filled her nostrils.

  Dinah followed close behind him. “Clayton, you smell good,” she said.

  “I tried a little of the shaving lotion that the store carries.” His rich voice filled Maggie’s ears. He flashed a full smile at Dinah. “You smell pretty good yourself.”

  Maggie heard her little sister giggle. “I smell like Sissy.”

  His voice deepened. “Yes, you do.”

  She felt her face burst into even hotter flames and continued walking toward the wagon. How was it that he could do that? Make her feel as if he really did notice things about her? Maggie knew he was only playing with Dinah, but for a brief moment she enjoyed the fact that he’d noticed her perfume.

  Baby James began to kick his little legs and cry.

  Clayton looked at her. His gaze moved to the baby and worry etched his brow.

  Maggie said, “If you are going to be a doctor, you need to learn the different cries of a baby.” Even though she’d been a mother for only a few weeks, Maggie knew that this was a hunger cry.

  “He’s either hungry or wet,” Clayton answered, placing the boxes into the bed of the wagon. He reached down and took the smaller box from Dinah and placed it with the other two.

 

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