"A garlic poultice on your feet should help." Alex handed his stethoscope to Miriam as he stepped away from Mrs. Mason—or Aunt Pearl as she was better known.
Aunt Pearl wrinkled her nose. "I'll stink worse'n a skunk in the outhouse."
Alex chuckled. "If you put it on while you're sleeping and then wash it off in the morning, you shouldn't smell a thing that day."
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Miriam tying garlic cloves in a piece of cloth. Always right in step with him.
A crash sounded in the front room, accompanied by male shouts and boot thuds. "Doc!"
Alex jumped to his feet and ran toward the sounds. When he rounded the corner, three men were coming in the front door. The middle one had been badly beaten and was supported by a fellow on either side. It took several seconds before Alex's mind caught up with what his eyes took in.
The battered man was Bryan.
Chapter Eighteen
"Bring him in here." Miriam motioned for the men to help Bryan to the examination room.
Her words seemed to spur Alex into action, although his face paled as white as the painted fence around the churchyard.
"Lands," Aunt Pearl breathed as the men shuffled through with Bryan. "You take care of him, an' I'll send some broth over with one of the girls."
Miriam shot her a grim look. "Thanks." Then she followed the men into the room.
They'd need warm water to start with. There was so much blood on Bryan's face, it was hard to see the damage. Although one of his eyes had already swollen almost shut.
Alex examined his brother while she brought in the wash basin and a clean cloth.
"I'll need a suture needle and thread."
Miriam hobbled to the cabinets to gather supplies. Arnica would help with the swelling. And a cold compress of snow for that eye. She carried the materials back to the bedside table.
"I'm fine," Bryan mumbled, pushing Alex's hand away. "Just need rest and willow tea for this bloody headache."
Willow tea. Why hadn't she thought of that? Miriam limped to the stove and poured clean water in the empty pot.
"How did this happen, Bryan?" Alex's voice held a focused tone. All business.
"Not sure." Bryan groaned. "Easy."
"Do you want laudanum before I do the sutures?"
"No. Get it over with."
"So you don't know how it happened? Were you at a mine?"
With the water heating, Miriam moved to Alex's side to check for anything she could do to help.
"Someone came and—umph." Bryan grunted as Alex inserted the needle for the first stitch. "…said I was needed at Wilson's Tavern. When I got there, the place was in a brawl." He winced, his hand coming up to his head. "Don't remember anything after that."
Miriam glanced around. Where had the men gone who'd brought Bryan? Surely they knew what happened. But the three of them were alone in the examination room. Alex focused on his sutures, so she hated to bother him. Fitting both crutches under her arms, she swung out to the waiting room. Nobody. She returned to the examination room.
Alex tied off a stitch and leaned back to inspect his work. "That should do it. Now a bandage to keep it clean and salve for the other cuts."
"Should be on the table beside you." Miriam limped to the stove where steam rose from the pot.
His brows gathered as he looked down. "Thanks."
"Alex, did you see where the men went who brought Bryan in?"
"Said they had to go help the others." His attention was focused on his ministrations, so she didn't question him again.
When Alex finally stepped back from his brother, Miriam held a mug of willow bark tea up to Bryan's mouth. "Have a sip."
He obeyed, and she continued to coax him until the cup was empty.
"Would you like more?"
"No. Just sleep." His good eye drifted closed, and his words slurred.
She glanced up at Alex, who stood at the stove cleaning the tools he'd used. He spoke in a quiet tone. "We'll let him rest."
Miriam limped over to join Alex with Bryan's empty mug. "I can clean these." She nudged his arm with her elbow.
"I'll wash, and you dry." His voice had a tired, no-nonsense tone that stopped her from insisting. She picked up a clean drying cloth from the nail on the wall.
Alex didn't speak as they worked, but tension hung heavy around them. She dared a glance when he handed her the dripping washbasin, now clean after he'd almost scrubbed the porcelain finish off it. The muscles in his jaw flexed.
With nothing left to wash, Alex moved the pot of dirty water to the back of the stove and dried his hands on a towel. He turned around and leaned against the oven handle, crossed his arms, and stared at the resting form of his brother.
What was spinning through his mind? Miriam eyed him as she dried the basin and placed it on the work table. His back stood rigid. Every muscle in his body seemed tight enough to snap.
She reached a tentative hand up to cup his shoulder. He made no sign of recognition, except the Adam's apple that bobbed at his throat. Seeing him like this started an ache in her chest. She kept her hand in place, gently sliding her thumb back and forth on the brown cotton of his shirt.
They stood like that for several minutes, watching Bryan as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Should she say something? But what could she say that would ease Alex's pain? How would she feel if Gideon was carried home beaten and bloody? Of course. The same way she'd felt when she and Leah had found him half-dead in a cave after he'd been mauled by a bear. Scared spitless. Just months after their middle brother, Abel, had been killed by a grizzly, Gideon's attack had broken open too many fresh scars.
Her heart raced in her chest. What could she say now to help Alex? Nothing. But she could be here for him. As long as he needed her.
"I can't lose another sibling."
She almost jumped at the sound of Alex's voice. Raw. Like a knife had scraped his throat, leaving it bloody and aching.
Miriam tightened her grip on his shoulder. "Have you…lost another brother?" Her own loss—the chasm left by Abel's death—gaped wide before her.
"Britt. My sister."
"Oh, Alex." She laid her head against his shoulder. Such a paltry gesture. But she needed to touch him. A physical way to show her grief.
Several moments passed before he spoke again. "It was my fault."
His fault? Questions raced through her mind, but she didn't move from her spot beside him. Had he been the attending physician? Surely not. Oh, that would be too much for a person to bear.
"She was seven." He swallowed, and his voice grew a little stronger as he continued. "Followed me everywhere I went. Britt was…special. Cute red curls and freckles, and the prettiest blue eyes. People loved her. How could they help it? She could charm a rock into smiling."
He cleared his throat. "Dad sent me out on deliveries one day. But I was miffed, because I really wanted to play ball with Bryan and his friends. Britt, she tagged along." His voice broke, and he paused.
"She had a breathing condition, where sometimes her lungs would only function to partial capacity. I was a stupid lout and jogged the whole way. Never slowed down to let her catch up or rest. By the time we got home, she could only draw tiny breaths. Dad tried every remedy he knew, then sent Bryan for the doctor. Her lungs stopped working before the man could get there."
Oh, Alex.
"Watching her die was the worst. I'd caused it, and yet there was nothing I could do." His voice broke on a sob.
Miriam wanted to hold him. Pull him into her arms and console him. But she stayed in place at his side. She did, however, run her palm down his arm and slip her hand into his.
After a moment, she dared to speak. "You were only a boy, Alex. You didn't know what would happen."
His shoulder tensed, but she forged on. "Her life was in God's hands. He took her to a better place, where she didn't have to struggle to breathe." Her gaze landed on Bryan. "Your brother's different. Alex, is there anythin
g life threatening about Bryan's condition?"
He stood quiet for a long moment. Had she gone too far? "I won't know for sure if there's internal damage for a day or two."
Her heartbeat quickened. "Do you see signs of it?"
A long sigh. "No."
She squeezed his fingers. "He's in God's hands."
How long did they stand there? Time faded into oblivion. At last, Alex exhaled a long breath.
Miriam straightened, pulling away from his side to examine his face.
"I should probably see if I'm needed at Wilson's." Tight lines gathered under Alex's eyes, a clear hint of the strain that weighed on him.
Her chest ached with the desire to unburden him. "I'll tend Bryan."
At last his gaze found hers. Searching.
She met his look, willing her eyes to show the love and compassion and hope that welled in her chest.
He squeezed her hand. "Thanks."
~~~
"What should I give for a stomach ailment?" Miriam leaned around the open door frame to Bryan's quarters. "Mrs. O'Leary's here with her two youngest. Said they've been vomiting all morning."
His brows scrunched where he lay on a low bed in the corner. "Sid and Malcom? I'll come."
"Don't you dare."
Whether it was her command or the pounding in his head, Bryan sat up only halfway before he stopped. His hand crept up to grip his temple. Between his eye—which was still mostly swollen and glowed a mixture of red, blue and black—and the scrunched expression of pain on his face, the poor man was pitiful.
"Give them each a dose of the blackberry tonic." He sank against the pillow. "Tell her to have them drink peppermint tea and eat dried bread. And keep them away from the girls."
"Thanks." Miriam hobbled on the single crutch back to the front examination room. As she neared the door, the sound of retching filtered into the hallway. She lengthened her stride. Poor thing.
The red curls of the youngest, two-year-old Sidney, bent over a washbasin when she entered the room. His mother cradled him while the little shoulders jerked with each heave. At last he raised his head, chest rising and falling in quick, exaggerated breaths.
Miriam grabbed a cloth from the washstand, dipped it in the water and wrung it out, then handed it to Mrs. O'Leary. The lad's eyes rimmed bright red against the extreme pallor of his skin.
As Miriam dosed the blackberry juice tonic, she talked through Bryan's instructions with the harried mother. "Would you like me to make some peppermint tea for them to drink now?"
Mrs. O'Leary scanned her sons. Five-year-old Malcom lay on the examination table with an arm draped over his eyes, while Sidney snuggled in her arms, a little bit of color now coming into his cheeks. "It'll be easier at home."
Miriam's heart went out to the woman. She had her hands full with the children, especially with her husband working long hours at the mine. "If there's anything I can do to help, come back or send word. Please."
After the pitiful family left, Miriam emptied and rinsed the wash basin, then set to work cleaning the examination room. In small spaces like this room, she could limp from one support to another without her crutch. It took a lot of scrubbing to eradicate the foul smell.
At last, she scanned the room. Everything looked back to rights. Her knee begged for a rest, but she needed to check on Bryan again. Grabbing her crutch, she hobbled down the hallway and tapped gently on the door frame that divided the men's quarters from the clinic.
"Enter."
She stepped into the open doorway. "Just stopped by to see if I can get you anything."
He motioned toward the ladder-back chair beside her. "Sit, and fill me in on today's patients."
Miriam hesitated. She did need to rest her knee, and she supposed she could hear if anyone came in, sitting next to the doorway. Easing onto the chair, she recounted events with the O'Leary family, the poultice she'd put on Mr. Yeltson's burn per Bryan's instructions, and the other assorted cuts and colds she'd treated with Bryan's advice.
"I need to make case notes on everyone." Bryan locked his fingers in his hair, allowing his palm to cover his eyes.
"I've been doing that with each one. You can look at the book and add what I missed." She eyed the lines around his good eye. "Tomorrow."
He let out a sigh. "Can't believe this laid me so low."
"If you give yourself time now to heal, you'll spring back quicker."
He dropped his hand and gave her a dark look. "Yes, doctor."
Miriam made a small effort to bite back her smile, but kept her mouth shut.
Bryan glanced toward the window, where the dirty layer over the glass made it hard to see whether the sun really was setting. "Alex not back yet?"
She rose to her feet with the help of the walking stick. "No. Are you ready for dinner?" She needed to get started so it would be ready when Alex did come in from making Bryan's usual rounds.
"Whenever." His words were groggy.
"See if you can get some sleep before its ready."
As she limped out of the room, the only response she heard was a "Hmmph" from the general direction of her patient. She allowed a grin. Just like Gideon, stubborn and ornery.
Although in this case, God may have used Bryan's hard head as his salvation.
Chapter Nineteen
Alex leaned into the clinic door as he pushed it open. The biting wind made his weary bones ache all the more.
Darkness hovered over the front waiting room, broken only by a dim light flickering from the hallway. His nose picked up the aroma of fried ham, and he followed the scent. At least Miriam would have a warm dinner for him.
A movement caught his attention from the open door at the end of the hallway. The door to his and Bryan's chamber. Miriam appeared, with a crutch under one arm and a stack of plates in her right hand. What was she doing in their private quarters? A surge of anger rose in his chest, larger than the small amount of energy he had left to tamp it down.
She smiled when she saw him. "I have your plate ready. Do you want to eat at the table or shall I bring it to your chamber?"
His insides heated another notch. Bring it to his chamber? What a question. Had she spent all day in there with Bryan? "Just give it to me. I'll eat with my brother."
Hurt flashed over her features before she ducked into the examination room that held the stove.
That look was enough to take the edge off his anger. As he proceeded toward his and Bryan's quarters, the encounter played through his mind again. He shouldn't have snapped at her. Miriam wouldn't do anything improper. Right? It just drove him crazy thinking of her being here with Bryan all day long. Even if it was perfectly innocent, wasn't that how he'd come to fall in…love…with her?
Was he in love? His mind and emotions were too tangled to finish that thought right now. And his bones were so weary.
Bryan lay with his eyes closed when Alex entered their chamber. "Your day go alright?" His lids never flickered as he spoke.
Resentment surged through Alex's chest. "Not as well as yours."
His brother's good eye cracked. "You'd rather lie here with your face and ribs busted up?"
"Looks like you've been well taken care of." Alex tossed his doctoring case in the corner and threw his coat on top of it.
The corners of Bryan's mouth curved, but he didn't answer.
Heat flared through Alex's veins. He was being a cad. But couldn't seem to stop himself. Better to get out of here before he did something he already regretted. Alex stalked toward the door where he'd just entered.
"Alex."
He ignored Bryan's call, and almost ran over Miriam in the hallway.
"Alex?" She caught herself and balanced the plate in her hand.
He brushed past, locking his focus away from her face. Get out of here.
"Here's your food."
Her voice echoed with confusion and hurt. Like a knife twisting his gut. Through the front room, he jerked open the door. The blast of winter air slammed into him,
and he stumbled forward, gulping in deep breaths.
For several moments he leaned against the side of the building, inhaling the frigid air. His pulse raced as he stared out at the mountains that rose above the tops of the buildings. Majestic. Incredible. Their awe settled over him like a calming mist. What would it be like to stand near the top of these beautiful peaks and see for miles?
The clinic door creaked open, and Alex's muscles tensed. He kept his gaze on the mountains, but watched from the corner of his eye as Miriam slipped outside and closed the door behind her.
She limped toward him, and leaned against the wall with only a few feet between them. Where was her crutch? Even with the limp, her movements were lithe and graceful. A lady strong and capable. His chest hammered.
Miriam didn't speak for several long moments, but stared out at the mountain tops along with him. His mind wouldn't focus on the peaks. Having her so close, his body craved contact. He needed to apologize. His behavior had been rude and way out of line. Exhaling a long breath, he gathered his nerve to speak.
"There's something about them that draws you in, isn't there?"
Miriam's words caught him off guard. Alex's eyes shot to her face, then followed her gaze to the mountains. A wash of awareness settled over him. They'd been her home for years now. "Do you miss the mountains?"
"A little. I miss the peace. The quiet solitude. The views up there are pretty amazing."
A smile pulled the corners of his mouth. "I was thinking they must be."
"When the pass opens, I can take you up and show you my favorites."
His gaze found her face. It glowed in the soft moonlight, her eyes sparkling a dark green. "I'd like that." He swallowed. "Miriam, I'm sorry I was such a lout in there."
She searched his eyes. "Hard day?"
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I don't know how Bryan goes into all those hovels and mines every day. With those conditions, no wonder people are sick." Lowering his arm, he locked his gaze with hers. "But that was no reason to be so rude."
A wrinkle formed in the flawless skin of her forehead. "There's something else, isn't there?"
Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1 Page 38