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

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Logan,” Warren replied automatically. She was a lovely girl, with her chestnut hair and dark eyes. But she seemed… cold. Or was he just comparing her to Ruby, with all her spark and sass and life?

  “My father would like to extend his invitation to dinner in the hotel dining room, whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  Warren heard something that sounded suspiciously like a snort from Ruby.

  “Thank you. Please tell your father I’d be honored. I’ll let you know when I’m available.”

  That didn’t seem to please her. Her brows drew together and her lips tightened.

  “I’ll be sure to tell him.” With that, she turned and stomped off. The snowshoes did look easier to maneuver, Warren thought.

  “We don’t have much time left. Come on if you’re coming,” Ruby said. It was less an invitation than a challenge.

  “Where are we going?” He demanded.

  “Simple run. We’ll end up at the store. It’s less than half a mile. You can do it.” With that weak note of encouragement, she shot forward. Warren followed, awkward and faltering.

  They traversed a narrow trail through a stand of aspens, along the backside of a homestead, and down into town. He had to admit, the skis were easier to control on the snow than his overpriced shoes, but he still tumbled into more than one snow bank before they got back into town. She stopped at the back door of the store and unbuckled her skis. He shoved his poles into the snow in front of him to stop, nearly jamming them through his armpits. He was winded.

  “See, it’s not so bad,” she said.

  Warren concentrated on keeping his balance while he unlatched the skis from his feet. He’d finally found something of a stride and a rhythm, but now his thighs were on fire, and climbing the stairs might prove to be an insurmountable task.

  “No, not bad,” he said, thinking a hot bath in Epsom salts was in order if he intended to walk the next day.

  “But you still don’t approve.”

  Warren frowned. “As I said, I understand the need for skiing in this area, but I think the jumping is unnecessary, and dangerous, especially for a woman. Several leading international physicians—”

  She cut him off with the wave of her hand. “And not only are all of them male, I’d be willing to bet none of them have ever put on a pair of skis, much less attempted jumping.”

  She was right. He had to admit it. “Probably true.”

  She smiled, bent to pick up her skis and leaned both pairs up against the wall. “So I don’t think their studies have much consequence. If they haven’t experienced it, they can’t really know what they’re talking about.”

  “Why do you do it?”

  “Do what?” She stopped, her hand on the doorknob.

  “Jump. I don’t understand the jumping. What makes you do it?”

  “Nothing makes me do it. I do it because I want to. Because I can.”

  Warren shook his head. “Isn’t that like tempting God?”

  To his surprise, she laughed. “Some would say practicing medicine is tempting God.”

  That gave him pause. His father had said the practice of medicine was going against God’s will. His father had also believed that the best way to discipline children and control his wife was with his fists.

  “There are some who believe that. Perhaps I need to expand my thinking.” He gestured at the snow-covered mountains around them. “This is all new to me. Please forgive me for being something of a stick-in-the-mud. Or, a stick in the snow, as the case may be.”

  “Consider yourself forgiven. Life is a learning experience. When we stop learning, we stop living.”

  “That’s quite a profound statement.”

  “My Pappy. He’s a wise man. If I learn what he’s already learned in his lifetime, I’ll be that much farther along.”

  “More wisdom. Thank you for the ski lesson.”

  “Sure. We can go again, if you like. It takes a while to get used to it,” she said. “You might be a little sore tomorrow.”

  That was an understatement. He was already sore. Tomorrow he might be incapacitated. He thought of the articles he’d read that said women were too fragile, too weak, for ski jumping. He hadn’t even jumped, and he was practically incapacitated. Was it possible all those renowned physicians were wrong?

  He eyed the skis dubiously. ““Will I need to take those back this afternoon? There was no way he was strapping those things back on his feet in a few hours.

  “No, Lars and I have an understanding. He’ll come get them if he needs them.”

  He wondered just what kind of “understanding” Ruby had with the giant Norseman.

  “It really is an efficient way to get around when the snow’s too deep for anything else. And it’s faster than snowshoes.” She opened the door, and then turned back. “And more fun,” she added with a wink.

  He had to grin. He didn’t understand her, not even a little bit, but he couldn’t deny her appeal. He might ski again, if only to spend time with the enigmatic Ruby St. John.

  Upstairs, he sank into his tub with a cup of Epsom salts and the hottest water he could tolerate, and tried to soak out the worst of the soreness. When he couldn’t delay any longer, he hoisted himself out, dried his body with a rough towel, and dressed for the day.

  Ruby was already in the office, sorting files and preparing for their first patient. He paused just inside the door. When had he started thinking of the patients as “theirs” instead of “his”? She’d proven herself to be a valuable physician’s assistant, despite her unorthodox appearance and her dangerous choice of hobbies.

  “Your first appointment is with Mr. Stewart,” she said.

  “What is Mr. Stewart’s condition?”

  “He’s old. And he’s our mayor.”

  That explained the primary reason for Mr. Stewart’s visit. Warren straightened his tie and smoothed his hair.

  His introduction to the mayor included a surprise diagnosis of a minor heart murmur. Warren recommended a specialist in Denver, but reassured the man he was more than likely just fine, since he was asymptomatic. The man hugged Ruby on his way out and whispered something in her ear.

  When the elderly man was gone he said, “What did Mayor Stewart say on his way out?”

  “He told me to watch out for you,” she said with a grin. “Mrs. Bauer is next on the schedule today. You’ll need to go downstairs to treat her.”

  “Why?”

  “Terrible arthritis. She can’t manage the stairs. We’ve set up a curtain in one corner of the store room for patients who can’t climb to the second floor.”

  “Your brother made it up the stairs.”

  She shot him a wry grin. “Robbie knows better.”

  The thought of going up and down the stairs again made him want to cringe, but he kept his expression purposefully blank.

  “May I see her chart?” He reached for the chart Ruby held out to him. She had changed into a purple sweater and red split skirt, with a green and gold plaid bow in her hair. He wondered briefly if she was color-blind.

  7

  Ruby followed Warren out of the office and down the stairs, hiding a smile when he groaned a little and clutched at the railing with both hands. She knew he was sore, but he wasn’t going to admit it. He was tougher than she’d thought. The effort he’d exerted during her ad hoc ski lesson had impressed her. He might be stuffy and traditional, but he was trying, and she appreciated an open mind.

  Mrs. Bauer, eighty if she was a day, was engaged in a vibrant discussion with Nona over steaming cups of tea. Both women fell silent when Warren and Ruby entered the room.

  “Nona, it’s time for Mrs. Bauer’s appointment,” Ruby said. She introduced Warren, watched him charm the old woman into a smile and lead her to the curtained exam room with her gloved hand tucked in the crook of his elbow as if he were leading her onto the dance floor at a cotillion. Then she rounded on her grandmother.

  “What were you two talking about
?”

  To her credit, Nona flushed. “I was just telling her about Dr. Kelly.”

  “And?”

  “And that he asked you to help him in the office.”

  “And?”

  “That’s all.”

  “Don’t go matchmaking, Nona, and definitely don’t sic Mrs. Bauer on me. The good doctor is not interested in me for anything other than an office assistant.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “He disapproves of ski jumping, particularly women’s ski jumping, for one thing. And for another, he’s quite old-fashioned. I think he’s more Millie’s type.”

  Nona shuddered. “I wouldn’t wish that young woman on anyone. I’ve never met a girl with such a high opinion of herself.”

  That reminded Ruby of her encounter with Millie that morning. “Have you talked to Pappy since this morning?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Millie was on her way to the house this morning with another ‘offer’ from her father.”

  Nona rolled her eyes. “They are persistent, I’ll give them that.”

  The curtain swished open and Warren reappeared with Mrs. Bauer on his heels.

  “Thank you, young man. I appreciate the advice. I might just try it.”

  Ruby and Nona exchanged glances. Amelia Bauer never thanked anyone for his or her advice.

  “He’s quite the charmer,” Nona whispered. “You’d best watch yourself.”

  “Don’t start, Nona,” Ruby whispered back. “I told you, I’m not his type.”

  Mrs. Bauer bustled back to the counter. “I’m quite impressed with Doc Eby’s replacement.”

  Ruby glanced at Warren, who flushed. Mrs. Bauer continued as if he weren’t standing just behind her.

  “He has some newfangled ideas about rheumatism, but I’m willing to try them. I’ll be sure to let the ladies’ sewing circle and my church prayer group know he’s trustworthy.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased, Amelia, and I know your support of our new doctor will be beneficial to the community as a whole,” Nona said. “Now, I’ve got a selection of new dime novels that just came in. Would you like to look them over?”

  “Oh my, yes. This weather has me going through them almost as fast as I go through coal in the stove.”

  Nona led Mrs. Bauer away, leaving Ruby and Warren alone at the counter.

  “Mrs. Bauer has a predilection for romantic stories,” Ruby said.

  Warren cleared his throat. “That would explain her interrogation during her exam. I thought the doctor was supposed to ask the questions, not the other way around.”

  Ruby picked up the appointment book and ran a finger down the open page. “Let me guess… Are you now or have you ever been married? If you aren’t married, why ever not? Do you want to get married? If so, what kind of girl would you be interested in?”

  Warren laughed aloud, making Nona and Amelia look back and smile. “That’s it, exactly. I take it you’ve been the subject of one of her interviews?”

  Ruby grabbed his sleeve and towed him toward the stairs. “More times than I care to recall. We should get back upstairs, or we’ll end up meeting all your appointments down here.”

  The front door of the shop banged open with violent force. Ruby and Warren turned, and Nona and Mrs. Bauer looked up in alarm. A young couple clutching a small child stumbled into the room with Millie Logan behind them.

  “Where’s Dr. Kelly?” Millie demanded.

  Warren strode forward. “What seems to be the trouble?”

  The woman held out the still, limp form of her child with a sob. Ruby’s heart clenched. She recognized the couple. They were Greek immigrants. He was a shepherd, and the woman worked at the hotel as a maid.

  “What happened, Millie?” Ruby asked, coming alongside Warren, who was checking the child’s pulse. She caught his eye and he nodded. The child was alive, for the moment, anyway.

  “I don’t know. Maria’s husband showed up at the hotel with the boy. I brought them all over here before they distressed our guests.” Millie shuddered and took a step back. “Do you think it’s something contagious?”

  Ruby shot her a disgusted look. “Probably.” She felt Warren’s censure and flushed.

  Millie ignored Ruby and focused her full attention on Warren. “Dr. Kelly, do you think we’re in danger?”

  Ruby quelled a tart response.

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Miss Logan, but I need to get this child upstairs and examine him.”

  “Oh, of course.” Millie coughed delicately. “If someone could send word of the boy’s condition…”

  “Certainly.” Nona steered Millie toward the door. “I’ll get a message to you as soon as we know something.”

  Warren was already headed for the stairs with the child in his arms, moving easily, despite how sore she knew he must be. The parents stared after him, eyes wide. Ruby grabbed their arms and towed them along in Warren’s wake.

  In the office, he laid the child on the exam table and looked at the parents, then at Ruby. “Do they speak English?”

  “Not much.”

  “All right. We’ll start from scratch.” He rolled up his sleeves and reached for his medical bag. “The boy’s fever is too high. We need to get the temperature down.”

  Ruby collected a bowl, filled it with lukewarm water, and grabbed two sponges. Warren’s calm demeanor soothed her. She placed the bowl and sponges on a wheeled cart beside the exam table while Warren removed the child’s shirt and pants, exposing his fevered skin.

  Ruby directed the parents to the chairs near the desk and rolled up her own sleeves. When she approached the table she saw the rash and sucked in a breath.

  Please, Lord, don’t let it be measles.

  Measles would go through the community like wildfire. Warren, apparently sensing her panic, grabbed her hand and skimmed her fingers over the boy’s abdomen. His skin felt like sandpaper.

  “Scarlet fever,” she whispered.

  Warren nodded. She grabbed a sponge, dipped it in the bowl of lukewarm water, wrung it out, and began to gently sponge the boy’s face and neck, cooling his fever. Scarlet fever was still dangerous, but it was nothing compared to a measles outbreak.

  “Have you seen this before?” He asked, voice low.

  “Yes.” She swallowed. The last case of scarlet fever she’d treated hadn’t ended well. The girl had developed brain inflammation, and though she’d survived, she’d lost her sight.

  “We’ll do our best to get the fever down, and pray it’s a mild case. Sometimes when the fever goes so high, the body successfully fights off the infection.”

  And sometimes the child died. Ruby bit her tongue.

  “Ruby.” He whispered her name and she looked up, startled.

  “Pray. Just pray. It’s the very best medicine.”

  She bobbed her head in agreement. He was right, she knew, but sometimes she wanted to do something physical, something tangible.

  “Our Father, who art in heaven…” Warren began, continuing to sponge water over the child’s body. Ruby felt warmth wash over her.

  “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done…” She chimed in, dabbing the sponge over the child’s forehead and neck.

  The boy’s parents must have recognized the rhythm, if not the words, and began to pray along in their native tongue. Peace settled into the room.

  Ruby refreshed the water twice, opened the door for Nona to bring in sandwiches and tea for everyone, and took the initiative to dab a clean handkerchief over Warren’s sweating brow. He never ceased to pray, moving smoothly from the Lord’s Prayer into the ninety-first and one hundred and third Psalms, then back to the Lord’s Prayer.

  Several hours passed. The light in the room changed as the sun shifted to the West. Ruby dabbed perspiration from her own forehead with her sleeve and struggled to recall the words of the psalm Warren was currently praying.

  At once the child groaned, rolled to his side, and began to cry. His parents rushed to the table
. Warren and Ruby stepped back to give them access.

  Warren whooped and wrapped his arms—strong arms, stronger than she expected—around her. He picked her up and twirled her around, then set her down. She blushed, self-conscious.

  “I take it that’s a good sign?” She questioned, flustered, motioning toward the wailing child and his attentive parents.

  “The fever broke. Now it’s a matter of keeping his strength up and fending off the illness until he can recover. Good work, Miss St. John. Ruby.”

  “And you, too, Dr. Kelly. Warren.”

  8

  The boy’s name was Alex. They settled him on a cot with his doting parents at his side. Warren told the parents, through gestures and the few words they understood, that Alex needed to spend the night, assuring them he would check in every few hours. Ruby hauled out two more cots for the parents, who shook Warren’s hand repeatedly in obvious gratitude and jabbered at him in Greek until he blushed and excused himself to change his shirt.

  When he returned to the main office, Ruby was scrubbing the exam table and everything else in sight with strong soap. He nodded his approval.

  “I believe Alex is going to be just fine. You did good work, Miss St. John. You’re an excellent nurse.” He dried his hands on a towel and turned in time to see her flinch.

  “I’m not a nurse.”

  He laid a hand on her wrist. “You might not have the pin and cap, but you have the compassion and the knowledge and the heart. You’re the best nurse I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.”

  She flushed. “Thank you. That means a lot to me,” she said.

  “It’s getting late. Would you like to get dinner?”

  Her flush deepened, and for a moment he thought he’d actually embarrassed her. “No, thank you. I have some work to finish downstairs before I can head home. You go on without me.”

  He paused. “All right. Don’t work too hard, Ruby.” He left her in the office and went to his apartment to change clothes and clean up. Tonight he was going out to dinner, even if he had to go alone. He’d earned a good meal.

  Ruby was still in the office when he stopped to check on Alex one more time before going to dinner.