by Amanda Cabot
Gwen stirred another spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “I wasn’t smiling on the inside. Seeing everyone there reminded me of all the things I’ll never be: smart and pretty and thin. I’m hopeless.” She took a sip of coffee, frowning as she put the cup back on its saucer. “Look at me, Elizabeth. I’m a failure. The only thing I want is for Rose to have a father, but how will I attract one when I’m fat and ugly? No man will marry a woman like me.”
Something had triggered Gwen’s bout of self-pity, but Elizabeth doubted she would learn the cause. The only thing she could do was try to convince Gwen she was mistaken. “You’re not ugly, and you’re not fat.” Admittedly, Gwen was a bit heavy, but not dangerously so. And some men, or so Elizabeth had heard, preferred women with extra meat on their bones.
“You don’t have to lie.” Gwen drained her coffee and poured herself another cup. “I know what I look like. No man would give me a second glance.”
“I think you’re mistaken. It seems to me that Harrison has given you more than a second glance. If you ask me, he’s interested in you.”
“Hah!” Gwen spat the word. “Harrison’s interested in me all right. That was clear last night. He told me I was a better cook than the Taggerts’ fancy French chef. Don’t you see, Elizabeth? I’m the woman who feeds him, nothing more.” And before Elizabeth could respond, Gwen burst into tears.
6
I need your advice.”
Jason ushered Nelson Chadwick into his office, wondering if it was his imagination or whether the man had aged since he’d seen him. It had been only a couple days since the party at the Taggert mansion, but the lines on Nelson’s face seemed more deeply etched, and Jason didn’t recall so many gray strands in his hair.
“Advice is why you’re paying me,” he said as lightly as he could. Despite Nelson’s somewhat haggard look, Jason was glad to see him. He’d been afraid that their first meeting since Richard’s party might have been awkward because of Tabitha’s behavior. Jason had found it embarrassing. He could only imagine how Nelson felt. The woman’s overtures had been blatant, far more than the mild flirtation some women enjoyed. Uncertain whether he should say something or wait for Nelson to mention it, Jason decided on silence. The truth was, even if he were interested in Tabitha—which he was not—he would never have accepted her offers. Not only did Jason not trifle with married women, but she was the wife of a client. That made Tabitha doubly off limits. The fact that he was here this morning suggested that Nelson knew that.
Settling into the chair behind his desk, Jason pulled out a piece of paper and prepared to take notes. “What can I do for you?”
“I believe it’s time to expand the lumber company.”
“That makes sense. I’ve heard that your business is good.” A smile of satisfaction lit Nelson’s face. “We have more work than we can handle, especially with the capitol and the depot under construction. It’s making people realize that Cheyenne is a great place to live.”
“It is.” Jason had certainly found that to be true. With the exception of the Bennett case, his time in Cheyenne had been both pleasant and profitable. Unlike Elizabeth’s. While she had seemed to recognize the truth in his statement that it took a while to establish a practice, he imagined that she had hoped that Richard’s party would bring her at least one patient. So far, it had not, and that had to be discouraging.
Jason hoped she would not be so disheartened that she’d leave, for though he had not expected it, he’d found himself replaying his conversation with Elizabeth and wishing for the opportunity to continue it. No other woman had lingered in his memory the way she did, and he . . . Wrenching his errant thoughts back to his client, Jason scribbled a note on the sheet of paper. Invite her to supper. With a frown, Jason crossed out the words, carefully inscribing Chadwick Lumber Expansion.
“The problem is, expansion is expensive. We’d need more equipment as well as additional space.” Nelson pursed his lips and shook his head slightly as he continued. “I thought it might be time to offer shares in the company.”
Jason made another note. “And become a corporation.”
“Exactly. What do you think?”
“You’ve probably already considered this, but in exchange for the money you’d raise, you’d be giving up some control. You’d have to establish a board of directors, and you’d be responsible to the shareholders.”
Nelson nodded. “My plan was to keep a controlling block. I intend to hold 51 percent of the stock.”
“That’s wise. You’re the current owner and the founder; you ought to retain control.” Jason scribbled a few notes on his pad before he looked up. “It shouldn’t take me more than a couple days to draft the papers for you.”
Most clients would have been happy, but Nelson appeared concerned. “There’s a problem. Even though he knows how important this is to us, Oscar is reluctant to expand at all if it means bringing in investors.”
“Did he say why?”
Nelson’s face reddened. “He told me he was worried about what would happen if I should die. You know the terms of my will. Tabitha inherits the business, but Oscar is guaranteed his position for as long as he wants it. I think he’s afraid he could be voted out of the company if I wasn’t there.” The veins on Nelson’s hands protruded as he gripped the chair arms. “I told Oscar I wasn’t planning to enter the pearly gates any time soon, but he’s adamant. He barely listened to my arguments, just told me he’d leave if I incorporated. That’s why I need your help. Do you have any suggestions?”
“That depends on how valuable Oscar is to you.”
“Very. He handles all the workers, and there’s no one who does that better. More than that, he’s loyal.” Nelson relaxed his grip on the chair arms as he leaned forward to emphasize his words. “I have to admit that I wasn’t happy when Tabitha insisted that I hire him. I doubted he could do the job, but Oscar has proven to be the best employee anyone could ask for. I couldn’t run the company without him.”
Jason scribbled a few notes, then looked up at Nelson. “You could leave him a portion of the company. Maybe not your full share, but enough that he’d have a say in running it.”
“But he wouldn’t have full control.”
“No.” Unless he married Tabitha or could convince her to let him vote her shares along with his.
Jason tried not to frown at the thought of Oscar and Tabitha together. He’d witnessed Tabitha’s flirtations with her husband’s foreman on too many occasions to think Tabitha would be unwilling to marry Oscar if she found herself widowed. The question was whether Oscar was enamored with Tabitha. That was not a question Jason would raise. “Let’s see what else we can come up with.”
They were discussing alternative approaches to convincing Oscar when a shadow darkened the front window. Nelson turned and grinned. “It looks like the lady doctor has a visitor.”
Like Nelson, Jason had recognized the woman. “I imagine Miriam’s here as a friend, not a patient. It seems to me that the people of Cheyenne aren’t yet convinced that women are cut out to be doctors.”
His grin fading, Nelson gripped the chair arms again. “Some aren’t cut out to be wives, either.”
“Miriam! What a nice surprise.” Elizabeth hurried across the waiting room to greet her friend. “Would you like some coffee? I keep a pot going.” She wouldn’t add that the primary reason was that the caffeine helped her stay awake during the long, boring days.
“No, thank you.” For the first time in their acquaintance, Miriam appeared uneasy. Normally she was the picture of poise and elegance, but this afternoon her smile seemed forced and she clasped her hands together as if to keep them from trembling. “I’m here as a patient,” she said softly.
Elizabeth tried to mask her surprise. “What’s wrong?”
Miriam shook her head. “Nothing. Unless I’m mistaken, something is very, very right. I believe I’m going to have a baby, and I want you to attend me.”
A shiver of delight made its way up Eli
zabeth’s spine. She had her first patient and for the best of all reasons. “Come into my office.” She gestured toward the next room. “Let’s see if I can confirm your diagnosis.” Ten minutes later, Miriam climbed down from the examining table, her face sober as she looked at Elizabeth. Her own heart pounding with excitement, Elizabeth smiled. “Your diagnosis was correct. By the middle of January, you and Richard should have your first son or daughter.”
“And you’ll be there?”
The hesitation in Miriam’s voice surprised Elizabeth. While her colleagues had disparaged female ailments as figments of women’s imagination and claimed that childbirth should be relegated to midwives, Elizabeth believed women deserved the same level of care as men. Childbirth was often routine, but when it was not, a physician’s skill could mean the difference between life and death. “As my mother used to say, I wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in China.”
A smile wreathed Miriam’s slender face. “I’m so glad. Mama doesn’t speak of it very often, but I know she had a difficult time when I was born. That’s why I’m an only child.” Miriam clasped her hands so tightly that her knuckles whitened and her face grew pale. Concerned, Elizabeth led her patient to one of the chairs in front of her desk and took the other.
“Mama said she almost died,” Miriam continued, “and she claims it was the midwife’s fault. She won’t tell me what happened, just that it was a ghastly experience, but as soon as Richard and I were married, she insisted that I needed to have Dr. Worland attend me when I was with child.”
Miriam wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something unpleasant. “You know how determined Mama can be. Richard says she only wants the best for me, but that’s not Dr. Worland. I think he’s a scary old man. The medicine he gave me made me sicker, and he even tried to put leeches on me when I was a child.” A shudder accompanied Miriam’s words. “I screamed so much that Papa sent him away. Oh, Doctor, I hate leeches!”
“So do I.” Elizabeth had been warned about leeches and purges her first month of medical school. “Modern doctors don’t use them, especially for a woman who’s expecting a child.” Elizabeth gestured at the cabinets that lined one wall of the room. “You can look around if you like, but I assure you that I have no leeches.”
A smile once more lighting her face, Miriam nodded. “I knew you wouldn’t. Pastor Saylor always said God has perfect timing, and you’re the proof that he does. He sent you to Cheyenne just when I needed you.”
When Miriam left half an hour later, Elizabeth was still beaming with happiness. What a wonderful day! She had her first patient, and despite Miriam’s fears, she had seen no reason why that patient would have a difficult delivery. Miriam and her minister were correct. God did have perfect timing. He’d known that Elizabeth was becoming discouraged, that she feared she would never be accepted as a physician, and he’d sent Miriam to her. What a wonderful day!
She was humming when the doorbell rang again.
“You sound happy,” Jason announced as she greeted him.
“I am. I have my first patient.”
“Miriam Eberhardt?”
Elizabeth blinked, momentarily surprised that he’d known about Miriam’s visit. How silly of her. “I should have known you’d see her.” After all, she saw most of the clients who entered Jason’s office.
He nodded. “There are few secrets in Cheyenne, especially among neighbors.”
Afterwards, Elizabeth couldn’t imagine what had caused her to blurt out the question. Perhaps it was because she was so happy that she wasn’t thinking clearly. Perhaps it was because the question had haunted her for days. All she knew was that she heard herself saying, “There is one secret. Did you know Adam Bennett had killed his wife when you took on his case?” The instant the words left her lips, Elizabeth regretted them. How gauche of her. She’d put Jason in a difficult position, all because her curiosity had overruled her common sense.
“You don’t mince words, do you?” To her surprise, he didn’t sound angry, simply a bit startled.
“I’m so sorry, Jason. Sometimes my tongue runs away with itself. I had no right to ask that.”
“Yes, you did. We’re friends, or at least I’d like to think we are, and friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Thank you for not being annoyed with me. And thank you, too, for counting me as one of your friends.” Elizabeth liked the idea that she and Jason were friends. Her first patient and a new friend. It was indeed a good day.
His expression serious, Jason said, “To answer your question, no, I didn’t know my client was guilty until he announced it in the courtroom. He swore he was innocent every time we met, and I believed him.”
Though Elizabeth’s heart soared with the knowledge that Jason had not knowingly helped exonerate a killer, his lips twisted into a grimace. “I never thought I was gullible, but the evidence seems to say otherwise.”
She was the one who’d introduced the painful subject. There had to be a way she could provide at least a bit of comfort. Elizabeth led the way into her waiting room and took a seat on one of the benches, indicating that Jason should sit next to her. “You had no way of knowing Adam Bennett was a liar,” she said as firmly as she could.
Jason shrugged. “I keep thinking I should have.”
Elizabeth turned slightly so she was facing Jason. His eyes were solemn, and his chin looked more square than normal, as if he were clenching his jaw. “How could you know? My father used to say that only God sees inside our hearts.”
A short nod acknowledged her words. “He sounds like a wise man.” Jason appeared to relax. “Perhaps I’ll meet your parents someday. With both you and your sister settling here, I imagine they’re eager to see Cheyenne.”
Elizabeth had tried but failed to picture her parents in Wyoming. Neither one had been west of Lake Champlain, a fact Papa had once announced with pride. They were both Vermonters to the core, and though they’d been nurturing parents, she doubted they would have approved their daughters’ move West.
Rather than try to explain all that to Jason, Elizabeth said, “Papa died half a dozen years ago. My mother never really recovered from that or from being forced to leave the parsonage. She died less than two years later.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine that it’s ever easy to lose a parent. I know it was difficult for me when my father died.” Jason shifted on the bench, seemingly searching for a comfortable position. When he looked back at Elizabeth, his expression reflected curiosity. “You mentioned a parsonage. Was your father a minister?”
She nodded. “You sound surprised.”
“I am. I didn’t realize that we had more in common than sharing this building. My father was a minister too.”
Though his tone was matter-of-fact, Elizabeth realized she’d been given a key to Jason. More than many, she now understood what his childhood had been like. It was no wonder Mrs. Moran had raised him. If Jason’s father had been like hers, he had been so busy with his parishioners that he had little time to spend with his son and had probably been unaware of how unkind the woman he trusted to care for Jason was. Elizabeth had been fortunate, for she’d had Mama and her sisters, but Jason had had no one other than the housekeeper. No wonder he had such strong opinions about how children should be raised.
The room was crowded, filled with large bodies, loud voices, and the smells of tobacco, Macassar oil, and perfume. Young women, and some who were no longer so young, smiled at the men who lined the bar, standing closer than a society matron would feel proper. Phoebe Simcoe laughed at the thought of a society matron setting foot inside her front door. If one did, she’d probably swoon either from the sight of all the flesh bared for men’s ogling eyes or the glimpse of one of her neighbors—perhaps even her husband—doing the ogling. It would serve her right. Proper women weren’t supposed to know that places like Phoebe’s existed, and they most definitely were not supposed to visit. So far, none had.
Phoebe’s smile widened at the realization that t
he room was more crowded than usual for a Monday. Perhaps that was because Friday had been quieter than normal. The Taggert/Eberhardt party had kept a number of Phoebe’s regular patrons occupied. Tonight they were making up for lost time.
She walked slowly around the room, greeting the men, ensuring that each one had the girl he preferred. Though the sun had yet to set, the room was dark, thanks to the velvet draperies that were never opened after noon. The men who visited expected Phoebe to protect their privacy. That was why, although the building had a front door, the clientele normally entered through the side, where a large lilac bush blocked views from the street.
“It’s good to see you, Alfred,” Phoebe said as she approached a tall, thin cowboy who spent most of his pay here. “Sheila’s occupied right now, but I know she’ll be pleased that you came. Can I offer you another whiskey while you wait?”
One of the things that set Phoebe’s establishment apart from others was that she did not charge men for anything other than the girls’ favors. The whiskey and refreshments that she provided were free to anyone who visited, whether or not they chose to go upstairs with one of the girls. Almost everyone did. Phoebe’s rates might be double that of other bordellos in Cheyenne, but the men did not complain. They claimed that the entertainment was worth the cost.
She greeted another patron, but though she kept her eyes fixed on him, her senses alerted her to the opening of the door. Casually, she looked up. It was as she had hoped. He was here, his brown eyes brightening when she gave a short nod. A second later, he was gone.
It took the better part of a quarter hour for Phoebe to finish making the rounds of the front room. Though she chafed at the delay, she knew he would not mind. The last time she’d been late, he’d insisted that he understood. And he did. She knew that. It was simply that she disliked the idea of his being alone. The man came here for companionship. He deserved it.