Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 2: 5 Romantic Sporting Novellas

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Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 2: 5 Romantic Sporting Novellas Page 15

by Cynthia Hickey


  Ruby would not be dissuaded from her competing in the ski jumping competition, especially not this year. If she won the Winter Carnival event, she would have enough money to hire a professional coach for her younger brother. While the restrictions on women’s jumping limited her future in the sport to local and regional competitions, with proper training Robbie might go all the way to the Olympics.

  Satisfied the store was secure for the night, Ruby switched off the lights, leaving only the solitary bulb burning in the back room. She shrugged her arms back into her coat, stuffed her hands into her mittens, and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Stepping into the alley, she reached for her skis, which were propped against the wall, buckled her feet into the bindings and grabbed her poles.

  She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her Edison Cap Lamp. The canvas cap slipped over her knit hat. She switched it on. The six-candlepower lamp, developed for miners, would last twelve hours on one charge. Pulling her scarf up to cover her mouth and nose, she pointed her skis toward home, letting the thrill of racing over the snow-covered road whisk away thoughts of the handsome young doctor who had come to town.

  ~

  Warren shoved his valise into his new apartment with one foot and closed the door behind him. He set the can of soup on the edge of the stove and moved into the bedroom. He would unpack before he ate. He needed to establish a sense of order before he could relax, but before that came the need for food.

  In the kitchenette he located a small saucepan and a rudimentary can opener. He opened the can, dumped the contents into the pot, and added water. As the soup warmed, he shrugged out of his damp coat and draped it and his scarf and hat on a hook near the door.

  While the soup warmed, he unpacked his belongings. He hung his shirts in the wardrobe. They were all plain, white shirts of good quality. His suits were already on special hangers, and these he dropped over the rod. The rest of his clothing—socks and underwear and pajamas—he tucked in the drawers of the dresser. His shaving kit went to the bathroom, ready for use in the morning.

  He returned to the kitchenette to find the soup bubbling on the stove. From the beefy scent, he thought he’d grabbed oxtail. Not his favorite, but it would satisfy, he thought. He hoped the store opened early enough that he could get his new boots in time to head out and find a full breakfast.

  He found dishes in a cupboard and poured the soup into a bowl. Spoons were in a drawer with the rest of the flatware. He carried bowl and spoon to the small desk and took a seat beside the window. The view overlooked Steamboat’s downtown. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer over his supper. His first spoonful was halfway to his mouth when his eye caught sight of motion in the dark alley. He leaned toward the window. A light blinked on, illuminating a small figure on skis. The figure slid out of the alley and glided down the street like a wraith. He’d spotted the mysterious figure that had startled him earlier, and now he knew who it was. Miss St. John.

  He shook his head. He had no tolerance for foolish risk-taking, and to his mind, that’s what skiing was, and ski jumping even more so.

  3

  Warren opened his eyes long before dawn, as was his customary habit. He blinked at the unfamiliar room, waiting for reality to shake off the world of dreams. Dreams that included the girl from the night before. Sitting up, he scrubbed his hands over his face to erase the images.

  He washed and dressed, then sat at the small table with his Bible. He kept to a schedule of daily Scripture readings. Today’s verses were taken from Paul’s letter to the Galatians about freedom.

  Freedom was something Warren appreciated, in theory. In application, he much preferred control, discipline, and a strict regimen. He liked rules. That was one of the reasons he enjoyed practicing medicine. There were lots of rules and protocols. Plenty of order and structure.

  He read the verses, and then closed his Bible. Folding his hands, he prayed, as he always did, for grace and wisdom to care for his patients that day. The sound of voices, many voices, interrupted him.

  Rising, he went to the window and peered down at the street below. A line of people streamed from the entrance to the St. John’s store across the sidewalk and into the street. He wondered what was going on. Perhaps the store was having some sort of massive sale. He should get downstairs and get those boots before the crowd came in.

  ~

  The shrill ring of the telephone jolted her from sleep. Ruby grimaced at the bright light piercing her bedroom window and burrowed under the covers in opposition. Then, knowing she would never be able to get back to sleep, she flung back the quilts that swathed her bed and swung her legs off the bed, cringing as her bare feet hit the chilly wooden floor.

  She washed and dressed in a hurry, partly because it was cold in her room and partly because she needed to get to the store early. Annual inventory coincided inconveniently with skiing. When she should have been out skiing and training, she was trapped in the family store counting spools of thread, tins of canned fish, and sticks of peppermint candy. Maybe she could convince Nona and Pappy to move inventory to the summer months.

  Her grandfather was seated at the table, sipping his tea and perusing a recent newspaper, when she came downstairs. She dropped a kiss on his cheek as she passed.

  “Who called, Pappy?”

  “Nona. She said she needs you to hurry. Bring Trudy, and pick up breakfast for the new doctor. The store’s already full of folks. Some sick, most just curious.”

  Ruby groaned. She’d guessed right. And she had hoped to ski in, not ride the mare.

  “Why didn’t Nona take Trudy?”

  “She took the car, but she’s afraid the weather won’t hold and you two will need the horse to get home.”

  “I’ll ski home.”

  “With Nona strapped to your back?” Pappy teased.

  “Maybe. She doesn’t weigh much.” Ruby shot him a grin. She felt her grandfather’s gaze on her as she started winding her scarf around her neck.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “If I have to go to the café to pick up the good doctor’s breakfast, I’ll get something for myself, too.” She picked up her knit cap and slipped it over her cropped blond bob.

  “I could help with inventory, you know. No stress on these old veins just counting things.”

  “Pappy, you know as well as I do that Nona would yank a knot in our tails if you tried that.”

  It was his turn to sigh. “You’re right. Although I have to say, the life of a gentleman of leisure is not all it’s cracked up to be, dearie.”

  She chuckled. Her grandfather’s enforced confinement since his heart attack had been harder on him than anyone else.

  “Did Nona take Robbie to school, then?”

  Pappy brushed his fingers against his white-whiskered chin. “Robbie’s taking the day off. Said he wanted to get in a day of skiing while the snow is good.”

  A slow boil started in Ruby’s midsection. “He shouldn’t be skipping school. He’s only got a few more days of class before break begins.”

  Pappy looked into his cup. “I told him it was all right for today.”

  Ruby swiveled and fisted her hands on her hips. “Pappy, I’ve told you…”

  “He’s a young man, Ruby, he’s restless. The physical activity is good for him. Trust me.”

  She smothered the urge to argue, knowing it would do no good anyway. Robert was, by now, out on the slopes. Where she wanted to be. She stomped to the door, gathered her coat and hat and mittens, and stormed outside.

  She was jealous. And that was ridiculous. She couldn’t be jealous of her baby brother. She shouldn’t begrudge him a day of fun. Responsibility—for the store, the family—would settle on his shoulders soon enough. And her grandfather certainly knew more about raising young men than she did.

  She kept up that line of thinking while she saddled the mare and led the animal out of the barn. With her skis and poles strapped across her back, she mounted Trudy, repeating her litany as s
he started toward town. She almost had herself convinced she believed it all, until she spotted a woman stomping up the road on snowshoes.

  Millie Logan, whose father owned the town’s biggest hotel. Millie, who had declared herself too ladylike to ski, but tramped all over town on her snowshoes. They’d been friends once, in primary school, but Millie’s father had quickly curtailed their friendship. He didn’t think shopkeepers were good enough for his little princess. Ruby thought about how lonely Millie must be, and felt sorry for her. She pulled up on Trudy’s reins when she was within a few yards.

  “Good morning, Millie. You’re awfully far from town. Is everything all right?”

  Millie’s lips pinched into a tight little “O” as she squinted up at Ruby.

  “I’m on my way to see your grandfather.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “None of your business.” Millie shuffled forward a few feet.

  Ruby backed Trudy up, staying ahead of Millie. “If it concerns my grandfather, it is my business. I won’t let you risk his health.”

  Millie’s frown deepened, forming a dark crease between her thick brows. “My father has an offer for your grandfather.”

  Ruby’s fingers tightened on the reins. The last “offer” the Logans had made was to buy them out, just days before Pappy’s heart attack. “We aren’t interested.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Ruby, stop being so childish. This is business, pure and simple. My father is prepared to make a handsome offer for the store and the building. He has ideas for improvements to the downtown district.”

  Whether Millie meant it or not, her tone implied that the store was somehow a blight on the downtown area.

  “Neither the building, nor the store, are for sale.”

  “Especially now that the new doctor is in town, right?”

  Millie’s father had coveted the built-in customer traffic having a doctor in the hotel would provide for years.

  “The doctor’s office has always been over the St. John’s General Store. Dr. Kelly doesn’t seem to see a need to change locations, and neither do we.”

  “Well, that’s not for you to decide, Ruby St. John. Your grandfather is still the head of the family, and so I’ll ask him.”

  All the frustration Ruby had been suppressing bubbled over like overcooked oatmeal porridge.

  “Do what you like, Millie, you know what Pappy’s answer will be.” Ruby wheeled Trudy around and prodded her forward. As she cantered into town, Ruby gritted her teeth. Millie would traipse up the hill, cajole Pappy out of a cup of tea, and present her father’s latest offer to buy out the St. John family. Pappy would pat Millie on the hand, show her his latest wood shop creations, and send her on her way. Like always.

  On some level, Ruby felt sorry for Millie and her futile assignment. But you could pity someone and still not particularly like the person. She pushed that thought aside, feeling guilty for her uncharitable thoughts. Truth be told, she missed the Millie who had once been her friend.

  4

  Warren expected to find the unorthodox young blond who’d let him in the previous night when he stepped into the store, not the tiny silver-haired woman standing on a chair and issuing orders to the crowd like a platoon captain. And it was a crowd. The line on the street he’d viewed from his apartment represented a mere fraction of the group. People of every age, shape, size and gender filled the store. If there was a sale, it was a popular one. He crossed the room and approached the woman on the chair.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” She didn’t hear him. He cleared his throat and spoke again, louder. “Ma’am?”

  She swiveled like a ballerina and looked down. “Yes?”

  “I’m Dr. Warren Kelly, ma’am.”

  “Oh, thank heaven.” She pressed a hand to her chest, and then held it out. “Help me down from here, if you would.”

  Warren held her hand as she climbed gracefully down from the chair.

  “I’m Mrs. St. John, but you can call me Nona, everyone does. My granddaughter says you need a good pair of boots before you set to work.” The woman glanced at his feet, clucked her tongue. “Lovely shoes. Surprised you made it up here from the train without breaking your neck.” She grabbed his elbow and steered him through the crowd toward the back of the store, waving people aside as they went.

  “Ma’am, are you having a sale of some kind? There are an awful lot of people here at a very early hour.”

  “No sale. They’re all here to see you.”

  Warren swallowed and choked on his own saliva. Mrs. St. John—Nona—thumped him amicably on the back until the coughing and sputtering subsided.

  “All of them?” There had to be at least thirty people in the store, and at least that many outside.

  “Doc Eby left town weeks ago. My Ruby has done what she can for minor ailments, but folks want to see the doctor.” She grabbed a pair of boots off a shelf and handed them to him. “These should fit. Do you have wool socks?”

  Warren shook his head. She clucked again. “Doc Eby should be ashamed of himself, letting you come all the way up here without telling you what to bring. How about a coat?”

  One of the customers waved his hat. “Nona, what do we have to do to get an appointment with this new doc?”

  “Hold your horses, Cal. He hasn’t even had his breakfast this morning, and he needs to be properly outfitted for a Steamboat winter.”

  There was a general murmur of discontent and a baby began to wail. Warren knew a moment of concern that a riot was about to erupt. What had he gotten himself into?

  A flurry of activity near the door broke the tension, and all heads turned to see the latest arrival.

  The young woman he’d met the previous night pushed her way through the crowd. In one hand she held a brown paper bag, and in the other, a leather-bound black book.

  “I have the doctor’s calendar here. Line up single-file at the counter and we’ll get you on the schedule. Then you can go about your business until it’s time for your appointment. The café is offering a special for anyone who is waiting, so you might want to head over there.”

  For a small woman, she had a big voice. Warren expected the group to grumble louder, but to his surprise, they shuffled into an orderly queue. She moved behind the counter, where the cash register nearly hid her from view.

  “Thank the Lord,” Nona muttered beside him. “I expect that’s your breakfast in the bag she’s got. Why don’t you slip upstairs? I’ll have Ruby run it up to you.”

  Warren was too stunned to argue. “Yes, ma’am.” Clutching the boots, he headed for the stairs.

  “I’ll find you a suitable coat, and some socks, too.” Nona called after him.

  Warren climbed the stairs in something of a daze. He unlocked the office door and found the room cold. He crossed to the steam radiator and opened the valve. It knocked and hissed and whistled, and then began to spew warmth. He’d just placed the boots beside the desk when the door burst open and the young woman rushed in.

  She dropped the brown paper sack on the desk. “It’s nothing fancy… biscuits and sausage patties from the cafe. I’ll bring up a pot of coffee.” She was halfway out the door before he caught her by the elbow.

  “Thank you, Miss St. John.”

  She stopped, looked up at him. Her eyes were startling in the light of day, a bright blue, perfectly set off by a cropped cap of golden blond hair streaked almost platinum in places round her face. He didn’t approve of bobbed hair, but somehow it suited her.

  “Call me Ruby. Miss St. John takes too long. And you’re welcome, but you better eat fast. Your first patient is coming up in fifteen minutes. We’re trying to triage them, but there are a few who just want to meet you and won’t be put off.” She pulled out of his grasp, reminding him that he was still holding her arm.

  Something in her phrasing caught his attention. “Did your grandmother say you’ve been taking care of patients during Doc Eby’s absence?”

  She stiffened. “Nothing serious,
just a few minor cuts and bruises and the occasional little one with a virus.”

  Warren nodded. “So you have some medical training?”

  “Not formally. I’ve been helping Doc Eby for the last few years when he needed me.”

  “Do you like it?”

  Her golden brows furrowed. “Do I like what?”

  “Practicing medicine, helping in the doctor’s office.” Warren gestured toward the room with its assortment of instruments and equipment. “All of this.”

  “Yes.”

  Warren thought of the crowd downstairs, and the way she had so efficiently managed them. And they’d listened to her.

  “Will you help me?” The words were out before he could take them back. Ordinarily he would never approve of having someone with no formal schooling assist him in the office, but this situation wasn’t ordinary. “Please?

  “You know these folks, and they know you, and trust you. They don’t know me from Adam.” Through the window he saw more people arriving. Insecurity gripped him. Was he up to this? Did everyone in town need doctoring?

  He heard her exhale.

  “Yes. I’ll help you. At least while you make the transition.”

  “Thank you.”

  She waggled a finger toward him. “Eat your breakfast, Doc. It’s going to be a busy day. I’ll be back with coffee.”

  And with that, she was gone. He heard her footfalls going down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t his ideal woman, no matter how lovely she was, but somehow the idea of having her in the office with him seemed right.

  ~

  Ruby stopped, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes. She’d known the new doctor’s arrival would elicit such a response from the townsfolk. What she hadn’t expected was her own response. Dr. Warren Kelly affected her in a purely unexpected way. And now she’d agreed to work with him in the office. What was she thinking? She needed to be focused on training, not be distracted by a handsome young physician who made her feel flushed and foolish. She needed the prize money, and the influence winning a Winter Carnival competition would garner, to hire a good private coach for her brother.

 

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