"Do you want me to come back to the house with you?"
Tad shook his head, gaze dipping to his boots. "Naw. The boys're already diggin' a grave."
A memory flashed through Alex's mind of another fresh mound of dirt. With white posies planted at the head. He clenched his eyes tight against the image.
"I'll stop by later today, then." Bryan turned the man, and kept his arm around the fellow's shoulders as they shuffled toward the door. "Is there anything I can bring you?"
The room grew foggy around Alex, and the voices faded away. A memory pulled at him. He was sitting beside Britt's lifeless body. Her little eyelids closed, hand limp between his. Tears streamed down his face as he cried her name, over and over. But she never answered.
He hadn't meant to hurt her. Hadn't meant for her to follow him on his deliveries. If only he'd slowed down when he saw her. Not made her run beside him. He knew she had the breathing episodes. Knew it wasn't good for her to run. But he'd not been thinking about her. Only himself. And how much he wanted to get home and play ball with Bryan's friends. Poor Britt. Why had she idolized a stupid lout like him? She'd deserved a brother who cared. Not someone who's selfish neglect killed her.
"Alex."
He turned away from the voice that threatened to pull him from the memories.
"Alex." A firm hand pressed his shoulder, giving it a slight shake.
He blinked, staring into Bryan's face.
"It wasn't your fault, Alex."
He swallowed to bring moisture back into his mouth. "Yes. It was." He barely recognized his own voice, the way it rasped.
"Langley was in bad shape the last time I saw him. You said yourself he may not make it living in that drafty shack."
Alex squinted at his brother. Langley? What about Britt? And then the last of the fog cleared. His patient, Mick Langley. Another wave of sorrow crashed over him. "What did I do wrong, Bry?" He searched his brother's brown eyes for the answer.
"There wasn't anything else you could do. His chances would have been better if he'd stayed here under our care, but you can't force a man." Bryan ran a hand through his damp hair. "It's a hard life for these miners. Most of 'em die early. All we can do is help the ones we can. For the rest, make 'em as comfortable as possible until the end. You did your job, brother."
Bryan pulled him close and mussed the back of Alex's hair, the way he used to when Alex was a boy. The gesture felt odd, now that they were almost the same height, but the familiarity soothed the inflamed edges of Alex's nerves. Bryan slipped his arm around Alex's shoulders, and together they walked down the hallway to their quarters. It was the same way Bryan had walked the miner to the front door. His older brother had a soothing manner that made you feel things would be okay. Tomorrow would be another day.
But when tomorrow came, could he do a better job than he'd done today?
Chapter Six
Four days in bed. It was mid-morning the next day, and Miriam flipped through yet another boring medical text. What she really wanted to do was toss the book aside and run outside screaming.
Her leg was healing. At least it had stopped the constant throbbing, so it didn't hurt as much to be awake. But she was still practically tied to this bed. The only exercise she'd been allowed was pulling the chamber pot from beneath her bed. Just the few actions required for that still sent fire through her knee, though.
She'd finished stitching an extra pair of drawers from the material Gideon purchased before he left town. Now there wasn't much else to do except read boring medical books and stare out the window at the gray sky and occasional wagon passing. The mountain peaks in the distance seemed to taunt her. She bit down a growl. How many more days would she be locked in this tiny chamber?
Turning the next page, she skimmed the text. Her stomach clenched and she wrinkled her nose at a sketch of a thin snake-like animal, then flipped the page again. It was morbidly interesting to read about using leeches to bleed people. But she'd already examined as much as she could stomach.
Alex had been kind to bring her the books, even if they were as interesting as dirty dish water. He'd shrugged and, with his neck turning red, said these were all the books they had. And then he'd slipped into that Irish accent and said something about too bad Bryan was such a boring chap.
A smile tugged at Miriam's mouth. Seemed every memory of Alex brought a smile. He was so much fun to talk to, with an easy manner that made patients relax and enjoy his company. So different from his brother. Bryan seemed more quiet and reserved. Kind of like her own brother, Gideon. She'd never understood why Gideon didn't speak his mind. But, of course, she loved him anyway.
As if her thoughts summoned him, Doc Bryan's voice hummed in the hallway outside her door as he led a patient to the examination room beside her chamber. That morning, he'd announced he'd be staying at the clinic today, and Alex was to take the day off.
Naturally, Alex had argued. But not as much as she would have expected. He'd been so quiet since the episode with Tad Langley the day before. Poor Alex. He cared deeply about his patients, and losing the elder Mr. Langley had hit him hard. She tried to get him to talk, but he seemed buried deep in another time and place. Like he was merely going through the motions here in the clinic. Hopefully, time away would help.
A thump sounded through the walls, as someone slammed the front door. Miriam flipped the book closed and placed it on the bedside table, then eased back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She could dream about the trip she and Leah planned for the summer.
A few days in St. Louis, then on to Richmond where Leah had grown up. Leah had talked for days about her eagerness to see Emily, her former companion. After hearing so much about the woman, Miriam's excitement had bubbled up, too. It wasn't confirmed yet, but Leah had asked Emily to accompany them up to Philadelphia, New York, and Boston.
Hadn't Alex said he and Bryan were from Boston? Maybe she could visit his family while there. Pass along any messages. See the place they'd grown up. The corners of her mouth tugged. It'd be interesting to learn more about what had formed these two talented brothers.
"Be ye hungry, m'lady?"
Miriam's heart thumped faster as her eyes flew open. Alex grinned from the doorway. She swallowed. "I…um…"
Her gaze dropped to the wooden tray he held with both hands. A white cloth covered whatever it held.
As he stepped into the room, her hand wandered up to her hair. What she wouldn't do for a bath. Or at least a clean dress. And her hair must look like a bird's nest. Curls kept slipping out of her braid, and she hadn't taken time to redo the plat that morning.
"Here ye are, miss." Alex placed the tray on the bed next to her, and Miriam scooted over to allow more room. "A meal fit for the bonniest lass in the county." With a flourish, he swiped the cloth covering.
Miriam drew in a breath, and a faint spicy aroma tickled her nose. "It's beautiful, Alex." A delicate china plate with pink roses painted around the edge held sandwich quarters. Steam wafted from the matching teacup, its fluted handle in the form of a rose leaf.
"Only the finest for the fair lady who graces us with her presence." He stepped back and bowed, performing the motion as if gracing Queen Victoria herself. Then he glanced up, his mouth tilting in an off-kilter grin. "And if you're a good girl and clean your plate, there may be a surprise in it for you."
Miriam bit back a smile, but it escaped anyway. "Oh, really?"
She scanned the tray again, with its delicate place setting. But there was only enough for one. "Where's yours?" Her gaze found his, which turned sheepish.
His hands slipped into his pockets, and his right foot scuffed the floor. "I…uh. The smell was too much for me, I’m afraid. Ate my sandwich on the way over."
A giggle bubbled inside her. "I suppose that shouldn't surprise me. I had brothers, too. Won't you at least take tea with me?"
He shrugged and pulled up a chair. "No tea, but I'll sit and visit awhile."
Miriam almost regretted her of
fer, as his gaze settled on her. She was in no condition to be the center of attention, especially from this very attractive man. His eyes tracked her hand as she reached for a sandwich. She needed to start a conversation, but what to say?
"This china is so pretty. Is it yours?"
His chuckle sent heat up her neck. Had she really just asked a man if he owned china?
"No, from the café. Aunt Pearl's finest. I had to promise a year's worth of doctoring to be allowed to take it."
Miriam glanced up, and her hand stopped midway to the teacup. "What do—" But her hand didn't stop soon enough, because it struck something. Hard.
The awful sound of a dish clattering interrupted her words. She grabbed for the cup, as warm liquid seeped over her leg.
"Whoa, now." Alex caught the china teacup just before it hit the solid wood floor. What little liquid was left in the cup showered over his hand and white shirtsleeve.
"Ohhh." Gripping the tray handles, Miriam moved it to the other side of the bed to survey the damage. "Here, let me wipe your hand."
She took the teacup from him and placed it safely on the table. Then grabbed the cloth Alex had used to cover the tray, and rubbed it over his hand. "Your sleeve is soaked." She cradled his hand in the crook of her arm while she scrubbed at the fabric.
"Don't worry about it. Tea is one of the nicer things that's stained my shirtsleeve."
She looked up to gauge his level of annoyance, and caught a twinkle in his eye. And with her holding his arm, those eyes were close. Her breath caught. Flecks of red and yellow glittered in the brown of his gaze.
They both froze, awareness sparking between them. The moment stretched. At last, the Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, and he leaned back, sliding his arm from her grasp.
The movement snapped Miriam from her stupor. Dropping her focus to the bed, she scrubbed furiously at the wet spot in the gray wool blanket. "I'm so sorry." Her cheeks flamed hot enough to shoot off sparks.
"My fault. And I'm afraid you don't have any tea left." He smacked his forehead with his palm. "If I'd been thinking, I would've brought the whole pot from the café, not just a cupful. Can you ever forgive me?"
Forgive him? The man must think she was a clumsy schoolgirl, still growing into her limbs.
The wet patch on the blankets was as dry as she could get it, so Miriam scanned the area to see if she'd missed anything.
The floor. A puddle sat next to the bed, right where the teacup would have landed and shattered in many pieces.
"Let me get that." Alex pulled the cloth from her hand and dropped to his knees.
Was he trying to make her feel worse? Not only had she made a mess, but now he had to clean it up? "I'm sorry, Doctor Donaghue. I don't know what came over me. I've never been this clumsy."
He looked up, a rakish grin pressing a dimple into one cheek. "On the contrary, m'lady. Your loveliness so overwhelmed me, I could do naught but drop to one knee."
Miriam stared at him, then realized her jaw had dropped open. She snapped it closed. Should she be offended? Mortified? Actually, what he'd said was a little funny. She bit back a smile.
Seconds later, he settled back in the chair, as if she'd not done anything strange or embarrassing. "So tell me, Miss Bryant, have you lived in the Montana Territory all your life?"
She picked up one of the sandwich quarters, and nibbled before answering. "Please call me Miriam. We moved to the mountain when I was five, from our farm in Kentucky." She scrunched her brow. "I don't remember Kentucky, though. My first memory is sitting behind Pa on his horse as he herded cattle." She glanced at him. "What about you? Did you grow up in Boston?"
"Yes, ma'am. Born above Dad's apothecary shop. All four of us were." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I think my first memory might have been there, standing beside Mum's rocking chair, tickling Britt's feet when she was just a wee one. The lass was barely old enough to sit up, but it always made her smile."
The light that shone in his eyes sent a warmth through Miriam's chest. "Britt's your sister?"
A shadow seemed to cover his features. "Yes, Britt was three years younger than me, then Cathleen came three years after her. Cathy's still at home."
Something wasn't right here. The way his voice changed when speaking of his sisters. "Does Britt still live in Boston?"
He swallowed, the knob at his throat bobbing. "She died."
"Oh, Alex, I'm sorry." So that's why the light had left his eyes.
"Me, too." His voice rasped. "Anyhow, we all helped Dad in the shop. He taught us to love working with herbs and other naturals to help people. I suppose that's why Bryan and I both became doctors."
"And Cathleen, does she like healing, too?"
His mouth pinched in a thoughtful look. "She's more like Mum, likes doing things around the house. But I think Dad's hoping she'll take over the shop one day."
"Did you and your brother go to medical school in Boston?"
The corners of his eyes creased. "The McGill Faculty of Medicine in Montreal, Canada."
"Canada? But…" Miriam sifted through her memories of things Leah had said about the place. "Don't they speak French there?"
His eyes flashed and his mouth curved. "Oui, mademoiselle."
Miriam almost squealed. "You speak French?"
"Très peu. Very little." He leaned back in his chair. "I always thought it humorous that a couple of Irishman went to a French school, but..." He shrugged. "It worked out pretty well for Bryan, so who was I to argue?"
Alex was such a smooth talker, it was hard to tell sometimes whether he was joking or not. She raised her brows at him. "So you went there because your brother did? Hoping to pass grades because your teachers remembered him fondly?"
Alex winked, and the motion affected her all the way to the core of her stomach. "You've discovered my weaknesses, eh?"
His pause stretched so long, she wasn't sure if he'd give the real reason. "Seriously, it was an excellent school. Well respected, as were the physicians it produced. Prided itself on a four-year course, instead of the two years most medical schools require." He nodded. "I'll always be indebted for the knowledge I received there."
A long breath escaped him, as his gaze fell to the floor. "But I suppose it isn't always quite enough."
Mick Langley. Alex had seemed like his old self this afternoon, but the grief must be hiding under his façade.
Miriam reached forward to slip her hand over his. "You're still a talented doctor, Alex. You can only do your best, and let God take it from there."
His eyes rose to meet hers. "You've been talking to my brother, haven't you?"
"No, but I'm glad he sees the truth, too."
Alex turned his hand so hers slipped into his palm. It fit well there, and he covered it with his other hand. His brows knit, like he was putting great thought into his next words.
Before he could speak, a voice called from down the hall. "Alex." Doc Bryan's voice.
Alex gave her hand the slightest of squeezes before he laid it on the cover beside her. "I suppose I should get back to work." Tucking an arm in front of him, he bowed low, slipping into his courtier's accent. "I hope you enjoy your lunch, m'lady. I'll be back for your tray directly."
Chapter Seven
Alex whistled a lively tune that evening as he carried the crate down the boardwalk from Aunt Pearl's Café. This was possibly his best idea yet. Although tea and sandwiches for Miriam's lunch had been a good one, too.
The aroma of rich gravy and meat wafted to his nose, setting his stomach to grumbling. "Settle down there," he mumbled, shifting the box to one hand so he could open the clinic door.
Bryan stood in the front room, reading a letter in his hand. He looked up when Alex entered. "Well, there's the benefactor now."
Alex ignored the tease in his tone. "Hungry? Thought you might appreciate Aunt Pearl's cooking better than mine."
Both of Bryan's brows rose. "Must be a holiday I've forgotten. First, Parker shows up with a table,
saying you paid for it to be delivered. Now you're bringing in restaurant fare. Has Christmas come early?"
"Where'd you put the table?" Alex scanned the room. Not in here.
"In our quarters. Wasn't sure what you had in mind for it."
Alex affected a casual air. "I thought it would be nice to put it in Miss Bryant's room. We haven't had a proper place to sit down and take a meal here. Now that she's feeling better, thought she might like company at meal times."
Bryan studied Alex, suspicion wafting off him like smoke from a fire. Finally, one corner of his mouth twitched. "All right." Then Bryan turned and strode down the hall.
Releasing a long breath, Alex watched him go. That hadn't gone as easily as he'd hoped. It was over, though. And it'd been worth it to make their patient more comfortable. She had to be lonely, staying in that room by herself all day. That was plain by the look in her eyes. Any little joy he could bring more than justified the effort.
He carried the crate of food toward Miriam's room, and met Bryan coming through the door that divided the clinic from their private sleeping chamber. Or rather, he met the table Bryan carried.
Stepping aside to let his brother enter Miriam's room first, Alex studied the table. It had a small square top, but plenty of room for three people to sit around it. The sturdy pine surface had been sanded smooth, and there was even a small decoration carved at the top of each of the four legs. Nothing fancy, but serviceable.
"What? Oh my." Miriam's voice drifted over the huge wood piece suspended in Bryan's grip.
Alex peeked around the edge, hoping for a glimpse of her reaction. She sat up in bed, loose blonde curls scattered around her face. Excitement glistened in her eyes. "What's it for?"
"We need a place to put this table. Mind if we keep it here?"
Her green eyes grew even wider. "Certainly."
Bryan set it down with a heave and a thud, then Alex set to work laying out dinner. "Do you mind company at meal times?" He forced himself to keep a casual demeanor, not looking her way.
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