Melody

by Caroline Clemmons

  Nick glanced at his friend then back at her. “I’d better confess I gave her the chickens that Dr. Collins left. On my own, I didn’t want to bother with them. For the coop, two dozen hens, and one rooster, she gives me all the eggs and milk I want.”

  “Now that there are two of us and I’ll be baking, she may want to renegotiate. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of her.”

  “We’ll work something out with her soon.”

  Glenn chatted with Nick and flirted with her for a half hour before leaving. He was a nice enough man, she supposed, but his familiarity made her uncomfortable.

  What were her husband’s plans for her? She didn’t know how to approach the subject in light of his previous anger. “Nick, I’m guessing you’ll have me accompany you to the clinic in the morning. Is that right?”

  He appeared pensive. “Yes, I think tomorrow would be a good time to show you how I run the clinic. Mondays are usually busy. And our furniture is coming about five.”

  Relief surged through her that he’d agreed. “I haven’t forgotten. What time do you hold regular office hours?”

  “From eight until three. After that, I visit people at their home who can’t come into the clinic. That’s unless there’s an emergency or an occurrence like the furniture delivery.”

  “I’ll have breakfast ready by half past six. That way I’ll have time to clean up the kitchen and prepare our lunch sandwiches.”

  “Sounds good. While you’re doing that, I’ll split more wood for the fires. We have enough stacked to last all winter, but not much of it is split yet.”

  After they’d gone to their rooms, Nick sat on the narrow bed’s mattress and removed his shoes. At least tomorrow night he’d be able to sleep in a full-size bed. He scanned this, the smallest of the bedrooms.

  Someday, this would likely be a child’s room. Would the mother be Melody or someone else? He waffled back and forth about her as a choice for his wife. Talking to her was enjoyable and she socialized easily. Perhaps he’d been unrealistic in requiring a nurse.

  He’d see tomorrow how she functioned as a doctor’s assistant.

  He wished he hadn’t mentioned his disappointment to Glenn that Melody wasn’t a real nurse. His friend appeared smitten with Melody and she didn’t seem to mind. Not that he could fault her for she was entirely proper. Of course he wasn’t jealous. He simply didn’t like that Glenn and his wife got along so well.

  When he woke the following morning, the scent of coffee reached him. He reached for his pocket watch and checked the time. A quarter past six and he’d overslept. He’d better get himself dressed for wood splitting and ready for the morning meal.

  When he entered the kitchen, Melody was setting food on the table.

  “Good morning.” She poured him a cup of coffee and set it at his place.

  “You were up first again. I’d intended to be splitting wood by the time you arose.”

  “If this is a busy day, I suspect you’ll be glad you had a few extra minutes of sleep. Plus, it’s still early. I doubt your neighbors would appreciate you splitting wood at this hour.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” He wondered how many times he’d disturbed his neighbors. He needed a wife to remind him of these things. “Mrs. Lawrence is bound to hear me when I work in the yard, so maybe I should wait until after work tomorrow.”

  “Better, or even Saturday afternoon. There’s enough for several days by each fireplace and the kitchen range.”

  After they’d eaten, he went to change into his office clothes while she cleaned the kitchen.

  When she was ready for the day, he escorted her to the clinic. He thought she would be pleased there was a stone walk so they didn’t get their feet muddy in wet weather.

  She looked up and from the house to the clinic. “Have you considered having a cover built over the walk like the one at the Suttons? Then it wouldn’t get icy in winter. Also you’d stay dry in rain.”

  The nerve of her. He took a deep breath and counted to ten. “As a matter of fact, I have. Frank is going to build one as soon as he gets around to it.” As soon as he asked Frank, that is.

  “I see you have only one privy for the house and the clinic to share.”

  Did she only have criticism to offer? “That’s correct. Hardly anyone from the clinic uses it. Mostly children.” He opened the door to his office and wondered what fault she’d find here.

  “Oh, this is very nice. You have a welcoming place for patients to wait. The chairs even look restful.” She sat in a chair. “This is comfortable. If necessary, someone very ill could lie on the bench.”

  He was somewhat mollified and hung his coat on the coat tree. “I’ll get the fires going then give you a tour.”

  After he had a fire in the reception area’s potbellied stove he moved to the treatment area. “I haven’t an ideal way to heat the patient rooms yet. I read about some people using steam to provide heat but haven’t figured out how to make that work here.”

  She gazed at each part of the rooms, hands behind her back as if afraid to touch anything. “This is remarkable. I imagine you’re the only physician in Montana with this efficient and well-thought out treatment areas.”

  “I… um, I thought you might have a white apron like hospital nurses wear. One that pretty well covered the front of your dress and skirt. At times treating patients can be messy.”

  “I think I know the thing you mean. But, sketch what you have in mind and I’ll sew one tonight.”

  Excitement filled Melody. Finally, she was being allowed to help Nick. Someone entered the reception area.

  Melody smiled at her husband and turned toward the lobby to greet the patient. “Hello, may I help you?”

  A man who resembled the drawing of a troll from one of her childhood books stared at her. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Mrs. Walker, the doctor’s wife. May I know your name?”

  He quickly removed his cap. “Dave Bonneville. Need the doc to look at something real personal.” He stared at the floor and shifted from one foot to the other.

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She alerted Nick and was told to send the patient to him.

  “You can go into the doctor’s office.”

  Mr. Bonneville wadded his cap with both hands. “Uh, you’ll stay out here, though, right?”

  “Yes, unless my husband requests my assistance.”

  His eyes widened as if in alarm. “He won’t need help for my ailment.”

  She hid her smile and wondered what was wrong with Mr. Bonneville’s privates. Patients filed in until most of the chairs were filled. She thought she was doing a good job of finding their records and lining them up in order for her husband to see.

  Between patients, she told Nick she was going to the privy. She hurried to relieve herself then sped back inside the clinic.

  A patient named Mrs. Hardeman looked up. “You missed a serious patient’s arrival, an emergency. Young Hank Daniels is in there with him.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hardeman.” She was glad she could remember the patient’s name.

  A young man stuck his head around the door jamb. “Mrs. Walker, the doctor would like your help.”

  She hurried, happy to be called to assist. When she walked into the treatment room, a man was lying on the treatment table. Before she could register more, she stared at the fresh blood that appeared to be everywhere.

  Her throat closed. The war, this was like Papa and the war. She sensed herself falling but was unable to stop. The walls closed in on her and she surrendered.

  Nick heard his wife’s gasp of surprise and, from the periphery of his vision, saw her fall. “Don’t move your hand, Hank. Monitor the chloroform dripping slowly. She’ll be all right.”

  This was why he wanted an experienced nurse. What good was having someone who fainted at the sight of blood? If he weren’t using all his energy fighting to save Werner Tate’s leg he’d be angry.

  In a few seconds Melody sat up. “I’m so sor
ry. I wasn’t prepared to see gore. I’m fine now. Tell me what you need from me.”

  He sent her a quick glare. “First, go out there and tell those waiting that this will take a couple of hours. If their complaint isn’t urgent, perhaps they’ll come in later this week. Then, hang the sign that’s in the top right drawer on the front door. It says Doctor is in surgery. After that, come back in here.”

  Gently, she herded everyone out the door. Apparently this wasn’t unheard of because no one appeared angry. She found the correct sign among several for various purposes. She hung it on the door as Nick had requested. Bracing herself, she went back to the treatment room.

  “Now what shall I do?”

  “Take over for Hank. See how he has the chloroform dripping very slowly? Don’t use more than that. Hank, hold his leg still so I can clean out this foreign matter and infection.”

  He looked at Melody. “He left the clinic when I told him he wasn’t well enough and should remain here. Now he’s not only torn loose his stitches, but he’s introduced barnyard filth into what apparently was an already infected wound.”

  Hank asked, “Can you save his leg?”

  “I’m trying my best. This time he’s staying here until I release him even if I have to tie him to the bed.”

  Hank said, “He told Pa what happened was that when he fell in his pig pen he landed on a nail sticking up from the trough. That pulled open the wound. Took Pa and me both to get him into the wagon to bring him here.”

  Melody didn’t look away from the pad on Tate’s mouth and nose. “He’s lucky someone found him.”

  “He hollered like crazy and Mrs. Tate found him. She’s a little bitty thing and couldn’t lift him but dragged him clear of the pen before she came for Pa.”

  Nick flushed out the wound again. “Hope it’s okay with your folks if you stay here for a while.”

  “They expect it. Ma said she knows how pigheaded Mr. Tate is. She figured I’d have to stay and keep him from leaving. She packed me a few things real fast and tossed the bag to me when we drove by.”

  “This time, I’m giving him an ultimatum. Stay here or find another doctor.”

  Hank frowned. “But, there isn’t another one.”

  “Not my problem. I’m not working this hard again then have it all put to waste.”

  Chapter Ten

  After Werner Tate was tucked into one of the new patient rooms and Hank was set up in the one next door, Melody and her husband returned home. Before they left, he’d removed the sign from the door and stored it with the others.

  Still mortified at having fainted, she searched for something to say. “Having Hank is a blessing, isn’t it?”

  His answer was clipped, “He’s a smart young man and is learning. Hasn’t had much in the way of formal schooling but he reads a lot, including my medical textbooks.”

  She might as well discuss her failing, embarrassing as it was. “Nick, about me passing out. I’ve seen blood before but I just wasn’t prepared today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “I hope that’s true. I couldn’t stop to help you, Melody. I was at a point where I had to stay with what I was doing or he’d bleed to death. Fortunately, you weren’t badly injured when you fell.” His voice was curt.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to stop work. When… when I saw the blood, for a few seconds in my mind what I saw was the scene of my father’s death at the very start of the war. He was injured so badly he was hard to recognize when he reached home… and Mama was hurt almost as much. Nanny and I worked hard to save them until the doctor could get there. The doctor didn’t arrive in time for Papa. Mama only lived for three days.”

  He opened the door to their home. “I guess everyone has war reminders in their head if they were east of the Mississippi. How did your mother come to be injured with your father?” Now his voice was conciliatory rather than sharp.

  She washed her hands and spoke while she pulled out food to make supper of fried potatoes, canned beans, and sliced ham. “They were at the shipping offices. The adjoining warehouses were set afire and there were several explosions. We don’t know how close the one that hurt them was but it must have been part of their office. How they made their way home, I’ll never know. I think getting Mama to safety was what kept Papa from dying on the spot.”

  He hung his jacket on the back of his chair, rolled up his sleeves, and washed his hands. “People do amazing, unbelievable things, usually to protect loved ones or comrades in arms.”

  “You were a surgeon in the war so you must have seen terrible things.”

  He nodded and sliced off a couple of thick pieces of ham before returning the meat to the ice box. “I’d been in practice only a couple of years when the war started. I was a surgeon close to home for a while but then sent farther away.” He stared at the wall as if seeing something else. “I wish I’d taken my family and headed west before the fighting began. You can’t un-see the images war brought.”

  She knew he meant that then his wife and children would still be alive but she couldn’t resent that sentiment. “Never. They talk about soldiers being permanently damaged by fighting with bad dreams, nervous disorders, deafness, and so forth. I think many who weren’t soldiers were affected the same way.”

  “That reminds me I should warn you I have bad dreams. If I should wake you with a scream, don’t panic. They’re not as often now that I’m in Montana.”

  She added the sliced potatoes and onions to the skillet in which she’d spooned lard. “I’ve slept quite soundly since I’ve been here. I thought it might be the clean, crisp air. Perhaps it’s the change of scenery from devastation to normal.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Our arrangement seems normal to you?”

  She started the ham frying in a second skillet then opened the can of beans and dumped them into a saucepan. “In comparison to life in a scorched kitchen amid rubble with rumors flying that I murdered my grandmother by poisoning her and looters prowling for anything they could steal or women to assault.”

  “When you put it that way, I understand. I have to admit to having settled into this life quite easily. Most of the time I feel incredibly fortunate.”

  “I’ll try not to give you second thoughts again.”

  He waggled his forefinger at her. “I didn’t mean anything to do with you. We agreed we would consider us a couple until Christmas, remember?”

  As if she could forget for a minute. Every day things progressed that meant deciding to seek an annulment would be more complicated. Every time she met someone new she wondered how she would explain if Nick asked for an annulment. Worse, she was already growing too fond of her handsome husband.

  But, reading Nick was impossible. One minute he was curt and the next he was cordial. She had no idea what he really thought of her—except that he was annoyed she’d fainted. As if she wasn’t both aggravated and mortified.

  They had barely finished their meal when the furniture arrived. Helping Frank was a man named Maurice Beavers. Melody showed the men which armoire she wanted in their bedroom and where it went. Nick helped move the other pieces to the spare bedroom while she directed their placement.

  She clasped her hands at her chest. “These are so lovely. Thank you so much, Frank. Thank you, Mr. Beavers, for helping.”

  He grinned. “Call me Maurice. Frank pays me a bit to do his bidding. But, I can always count on hefting the heaviest end of whatever we’re moving.”

  Frank laughed. “A scandalous misrepresentation of fact.”

  When the men had left, she put sheets on the mattress and cases on the pillows. Nick fetched the blankets from the small room he’d been using and they added them to the larger bed. She brought a quilt from her trunk and spread it over the blankets.

  Nick added the lamp from the small bedroom to the bedside table. He stood with his hands in his pockets and scanned the space. “Looks nice, doesn’t it? I like having this room furnished.”

  Melody was pleased. “I’m sure yo
u’ll sleep much better now that you can stretch out and not worry about rolling off the bed.”

  “That narrow one was fancy compared to an army camp cot. However, this will be much nicer and more comfortable.”

  Cozy in her bed later, Melody wondered what it would be like to share the room with Nick. Did he wonder the same thing about her? She hoped he at least gave her consideration.

  The difference was he had been married and shared everything with his first wife. He knew exactly what he was missing. Melody could only guess.

  The following morning, Nick came into the kitchen smiling. “Had a great night’s sleep. I feel a hundred percent better than yesterday. I’ll go check on Mr. Tate while you make breakfast. Sorry, but you’ll have to cook enough for Hank and our patient.”

  “I planned to. I didn’t see a way for Hank to cook in the clinic.”

  “He can make coffee on the potbellied stove. After we eat, I’ll take Hank his and Tate’s breakfast then get the buggy. Tuesdays and Thursdays are when I usually make a few house calls. You can take advantage of my absence to get some of your sewing done.”

  Why didn’t he want her to go with him? She did need to get her dresses sewn now that she had purchased the fabrics and trims. Mrs. Weston had given her the Harper’s Bazaar but she hadn’t even had a chance to look at the styles it included.

  After Nick had left and she’d tidied the kitchen and bedrooms, she started cutting out the first dress, the blue mohair. Nick had said he liked that color because it matched her eyes. She was eager to finish it and wear it on Sunday.

  The fabric was lovely to handle and she soon had every part ready to stitch. She sat sewing until half past eleven. Then, she put aside her project to make lunch for her, Hank, and Mr. Tate. She prepared sandwiches and slices of the apple pie Flora Lawrence from next door had brought this morning.

  This made the second time the widow had shared her pastry skill. Melody had yet to reciprocate but she would. Perhaps she could share a meal some evening.

  She ate her sandwich at the table then carried the food for Hank and Mr. Tate to the clinic. During the visit, she looked around the clinic again. Without patients she could really inspect things. She decided to help Nick by rearranging the medicines and supplies in a more efficient order.