She frowned. There would be no keeping Mary out of that room—she loved Jim and was worried sick about him. His injury combined with the added pressure she had at the farm, now managing it alone, would be enough to make even a strong, fierce woman nearly unstoppable. Especially one like Mary. Melissa wasn’t at all sure she could handle more excitement in this day, but at least she could say her job wasn’t boring.
Chapter 6
Somewhere between Kansas City, MO and Texas
Who could be so important that the conductor insist he leave wounded passengers to attend to her? Lee Jamison's mind sorted through prioritizing the remaining injured when he returned to the dining car—now a makeshift hospital.
Then he thought about those who had been captured by the robbers and doubted that anyone would see them again based on the brutality he had witnessed against those who had survived. He wondered why the bandits backed away from him when they found out he was a doctor—or rather their apparent leader demanded that he be left alone. There had been something that flashed across the leader’s hard black eyes—the only thing not covered by his bandana—when he told them he was a doctor and begged them to take what they needed and leave the people alone. Was it pain? Recognition?
“Here we are, Doctor. This is her car.” The conductor interrupted his thoughts.
“Very well.” He turned to look at both men. “Well, carry on. I don’t need you babysitting. Surely you have better things to do in light of what we’ve all just been through.”
“Porter, you wait outside in case the doctor needs something. I’m headed to the engine room to see when we can get this train back on track.”
“Yes, conductor.”
Recognition dawned when Lee walked through the door of the sleeping car. It was Claire Hawarden, the esteemed and highly sought debutante from Philadelphia. He had only glimpsed her from afar, because although a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, that achievement was a result of his brains and not his family’s money or lack thereof. He’d seen Claire at several functions co-sponsored by the university and Bryn Mawr, the liberal arts college she had attended.
He walked to the window and opened the curtains. Light spilled onto the bed where she lay. She groaned and covered her eyes with her hand.
“It’s too bright. Please close them,” she whispered.
He ignored her request. “Hello Miss Hawarden, I’m Doctor Jamison. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
A second passed. She drew a deep breath and then bit her lower lip. “I’m fine, really. Just thirsty. I asked the porter for some water, do you have it?”
He ignored her again, assessing. Her breathing was shallow but even. Her face pale, and she was clearly light sensitive. “The conductor said you collapsed. Do you remember that?”
“I—I remember hearing someone at my door. I was…” Her hand moved to her stomach and pressed against it. “I was in the trunk and then everything started to spin, and went dark. It was probably just lack of oxygen. I don’t need a doctor, I just need water.”
“Yes, well, unless you’ve obtained a medical degree recently, why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
* * *
She bristled. “I’m quite capable of knowing whether or not I need medical attention,” she insisted. Girding herself with resolve, she grabbed the edge of the bed and attempted to sit up, swinging her tingling legs over the side. Her vision blurred. She strived to ignore the increasing dizziness and pushed through it, now sitting on the edge of the bed, both hands grasping the edge firmly, her eyes still closed.
She fought through the dizziness and forced herself to breathe deeply, fighting the nausea that threatened to undo her efforts. She dared to open her eyes and looked up at the doctor—just standing there watching her intently. The intensity of his gaze sucked the air out of her lungs. She quickly closed her eyes and sagged against the back of the bunk.
“Do you have that water?” she whispered.
He moved to her side and swept her legs back onto the bunk, pressing her gently back onto the bed. “Porter!” he called out.
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Bring water at once.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she managed, her eyes still closed shut.
“I don’t bite,” he insisted and she rewarded him with a slight upturn at the corner of mouth.
“I don't suppose you do.” She ventured another glance at him through narrowed eyes. Coffee brown hair and gray eyes. What an unusual combination.
“The light’s bothering you?” He opened his bag and took out a small light.
She sighed. It looked like she’d lost this battle, but better to cooperate and be done with it.
“It’s better now. They’ve adjusted,” she insisted.
Claire sighed as he simply ignored her, asking her to stare straight at the ceiling and then put his annoying small light directly into one of her eyes. She glanced sideways at him and narrowed her eyes briefly, but acquiesced when he raised an eyebrow and simply waited for her to comply.
“You appear to be fine, Miss Hawarden,” he offered once the brief exam was over. “However, you’ve been through quite a shock. I recommend that you rest here in your sleeper car until you arrive at your destination…?”
“It’s Bareglen Creek.”
He nodded approval. “That’s my destination, too. I’ll assist you when we arrive. Will you have people meeting you there?”
“Yes, my brother and sister.”
“It’s a wonder your family approve of you all uprooting yourselves from Philadelphia,” he probed.
“What concern is it of yours, Doctor?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“It matters not in the least to me.” He rose to leave.
“Doctor?”
“Yes, Miss Hawarden?” His patience was barely restrained.
“The other passengers. Is everyone all right?”
His response was measured. “There were some injuries, which I must get back to now.”
“Yes, of course! I’m sorry I kept you from them. Are you sure you don’t need assistance?”
“The most helpful thing you can do at this point is stay here and get some rest. I’ll check in on you later.”
“Thank you,” she managed, although she felt certain there was an insult imbedded in his comment. They were interrupted by the porter arriving with her water.
“Porter, once the dining car is back in order, please make sure Miss Hawarden’s dinner is delivered here to her car. She’ll be resting until we arrive in Bareglen Creek,” he emphasized as he quickly left her car.
Chapter 7
Bareglen Creek, TX
Doctor Holloway’s Office
Mary rushed through the door to Doctor Holloway’s office. “Hello, Miss Melissa,” she offered as she rushed into the room. “My brother?” she asked, without bothering to slow her progression toward the exam room which also acted as a hospital room when needed, deep lines of worry etching her face.
Melissa rose from her desk and gently stepped in front of Mary. “Mary, wait until I speak with the doctor, okay? He may be examining Jim.” Her eyes filled with sympathy as she placed her hand on Mary’s arm, slowing her down.
Mary bristled, then clasped her hands, worry deepening in her face at Melissa’s insistence. Was there something they were keeping from her? She took a deep breath. “All right, Miss Melissa.”
Melissa turned and knocked on the door to the infirmary. It opened, and Dr. Holloway stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Mary’s brow furrowed, and she clenched her hands tighter, brushing past Melissa. “Is my brother all right?” Fear twisted her gut as she looked up at Dr. Holloway. It was all she could do not to rush past him and open that door.
He looked down at Mary’s clenched hands and then looked her square in the eyes. “Mary, he’s had a rough go of it, but I feel certain he’ll pull through. Come, sit with me for a moment.”
She stood
her ground. She didn’t have time for this, and all she wanted to do was see her brother with her own eyes. But Doc was a big obstacle compared to her petite five-foot-four frame, so she bit her lip and allowed him to guide her toward two chairs in the corner.
He turned toward her once they were seated, no doubt taking in the state of her. In the looking glass this morning, she’d had dark circles under her eyes, that seemed to accent her too thin frame since Mike’s death.
Her annoyance flared. She wasn’t the patient, she was an educated woman, and the last thing she needed were the prying eyes or judgment of the town doctor. “I have limited time, Doctor. Please—how is my brother?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s very weak. My biggest concern right now is keeping an infection from festering. He has a mild fever but seems to be keeping it at bay.”
She took in a sharp breath. She’d just lost Mike—she couldn’t bear to lose Jim too. Tears filled her eyes and she closed them, hastily brushing away the lone tear that had escaped.
He waited until she regained her composure. “You Hawarden’s are tough stock. He needs all of his strength to beat this, but I believe he will beat it.”
“Can I see him?,” she whispered.
“I’m telling you this because you’ll need to keep your visit short. He’s worried about you, despite being so weak.” His eyes seemed to assess her again. “It’s clear that the strain of losing your husband, managing the farm, helping the Sisters at the orphanage, and nearly losing her brother had taken a huge toll. You look exhausted, Mary,” he offered gently.
The concern in his eyes made her tear up again, but she took a deep breath and shook her head. “I appreciate that, Doc, but I’ll be fine. Let me see my brother now. Please.”
“Okay. Five minutes—no more.”
“I understand.” She cleared her throat and rose expectantly.
* * *
Melissa watched admiration cross the doctor’s face. It was a miracle, and the first time she’d seen him show any emotion toward a person of the opposite sex. It wasn’t surprising, though, Mary was a very special person with a huge heart. All the loss she’d endured only heightened that fact. She watched them walk through the door together and said a quick prayer for Jim—and Mary.
Five minutes later on the dot, they walked back through the door into the main office. Melissa smiled, the doc was nothing if not consistent in his expectations of how patients, and their family members would behave in his house. But her smile quickly froze.
Mary turned quickly back to face the doctor. Obviously, struggling to keep her composure, Mary dropped her head and let a fast breath out through pursed lips. It was probably only seconds but seemed like forever before she lifted eyes shimmering with tears directly into the doctors. “I will never be able to thank you—to repay you for this. He looks awful, yet wonderful and I know he should have— “ Her voice caught.
“You don’t have to thank me, Mary. It’s what I do, and I’m fairly certain this has more to do with your brother’s strength and stubbornness than it does my skill as a doctor.” His grin was kind, his eyes never leaving hers.
Mary smiled through tear-stained eyes. “For sure he is all of those, but I will be— eternally grateful,” she finished as the tears unleashed.
The doctor didn’t seem to know what to do, so Melissa jumped up from her chair and walked to Mary’s side, embracing her.
Mary hastily brushed the tears away, pulled away and squeezed Melissa’s hands, then turned to leave. She paused before opening the door, looked back, nodded at them both, and left.
Melissa released a sigh of her own. The raw emotions in this room were still palpable. She risked a glance at the doctor and noted his thoughtful expression. It was good to know he was human after all.
As soon as the moment appeared, it vanished, and he left the office for the main area of his house.
Chapter 8
Bareglen Creek, TX
The sheriff tapped his foot against the planks at the train station. Would this train never arrive? He had a posse to join—men searching for his kidnapped deputy, and here he was waiting for some debutante from Philadelphia. Whoever she was, she wasn’t more important than one of his men—even if she was Jim and Mary Hawarden’s sister.
That information still surprised him. Neither Mary nor Jim acted like a privileged person from the north—in fact he never would have guessed that they were. Yet he had been summoned to protect their sister, Claire, and it grated him the wrong way. He thought back to conversations he’d had with Mike before he died. Mike had told him that Mary’s mother was a difficult woman—pretentious even—and he could only imagine that Claire must take after her if indeed she was used to being looked after and protected.
Finally, the whistle of the train sounded in the distance. It was a small reprieve from the resentment he felt at having to play babysitter. A pang of guilt hit him in the gut. Claire had no idea that her brother had been nearly fatally injured, and Mary had chosen not to send a telegram to their parents in Philadelphia until she knew for sure that he would make it. As a result, the telegram had just left this morning, and the burden of sharing this information with Claire now rested with him.
He’d also found out that the train had been robbed by the very band of men every law enforcement official in the State was looking for. If she was anything like he imaged, he expected more than a little drama upon her arrival. Sully was compassionate toward women and children who deserved it—but a femme fatale from Philadelphia?
He squared his shoulders as the train arrived at the station. He’d received word this morning that she’d been staying in her own private Pullman. And there were two sleeping cars on this train but only one private one he’d heard. The engineer automatically positioned the trains to allow those passengers to disembark directly at the station platform. He waited, arms crossed.
Sully watched as an older couple, the Hopkins exited the train, and he moved forward quickly to help them with their baggage. “Thank you, Sheriff.” They smiled at him gratefully.
“Of course,” he assured them. “Welcome home.”
Where was she? Next, he watched as a tall man with brown hair and a reddish haired woman stepped from the train. He dismissed them, assuming they were a couple, then took a second look. She looked like Jim. That must be Claire Hawarden. But who was her companion?
He stepped forward. “Claire Hawarden?”
* * *
Claire felt confused when a complete stranger knew her name, but then remembered her parents had hired a sheriff to protect her.
She looked at Doctor Jamison then back at the man who had addressed her. “Yes, I’m Claire Hawarden,” she answered.
“Miss Hawarden, I’m Sheriff Clarke.” He looked expectantly at her companion.
“Doctor Lee Jamison,” he offered. I’m here to meet with Doctor Lance Holloway.”
“Ah, yes! Doc Holloway mentioned that he had a medical school classmate joining him for a visit here in Bareglen Creek. I’d be happy show you to his home before I take Miss Hawarden to the farm.”
Claire bristled. These men were acting as though she didn’t exist. She watched in amazement as they moved forward toward the station. The doctor with his medical bag in one hand, and his baggage in the other. Meanwhile, she had multiple bags and a trunk to contend with.
“Porter, can you help me, please?” She asked, turning to a porter standing nearby, awarding him with her most charming smile.
“Yes, of course, Miss!”
She narrowed her eyes as the sheriff stood beyond the station and waited while the porter organized her bags, not making a move to help. He was too absorbed in his conversation with Doctor Jamison. If this was the way of the west, she wasn’t impressed.
The sheriff’s look of disdain wasn’t lost on Claire as he turned toward her, glancing at the trunk, and three large baggage containers she had brought with her. She supposed the trunk wasn’t needed any further, but the fact th
at it could be used on her way back to Philadelphia, if that train were robbed, too…her stomach clenched in knots. Who cared what the sheriff thought, anyway!
She dismissed the thought that the sheriff was quite different from what she’d expected—he was tall with medium brown hair, and the most unusual green eyes. What had she expected? The question made her pause, just as the sheriff gave her an appraising look, then dismissed her.
Claire’s eyes narrowed, and she stormed toward the men, only to be distracted by her name being called.
“Claire! Claire, over here!”
“Mary!” Claire dropped everything and ran to her sister. They embraced for what seemed like minutes and yet not long enough. Both women pulled back with tears in their eyes.
“Are you okay?” Claire asked. It was a foolish question, but at the very heart of her worry.
“As okay as I can be, I guess, Claire.” Mary’s expression was laced with a sadness that ran deep. “But I’m better now that you’re here,” she affirmed, as worry spread across her face.
“What? What is it, Mary?” Claire stood directly in front of her sister and grabbed both of her arms, suddenly afraid.
“Claire, it’s Jim—”
“What do you mean—it’s Jim?” Claire asked, suddenly feeling like the world was turning on its axis.
“He’s been shot, but he’s going to be okay.” Mary said with a brief hesitation in her voice.
Claire felt the world continue to spin, and suddenly there were strong arms holding her up on both sides, moving her forward to a bench in front of the train station.
She felt Mary squeeze in beside her. “Really, Claire, he’s going to be okay. Please don’t worry. I just saw him and I’ll take you to him, okay?”
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