In the short time he’d spent with her, Eric determined Polly was generous, gentle, and exceedingly kind. The man who married her would be getting a gem. Never before had he felt the emotion, but Eric diagnosed it immediately: He felt jealous of whoever that man was.
That’s ridiculous. I’m glad. He and Polly will court, marry, and she’ll be too busy to give me any grief. In the meantime, I’m going to have to cope with her trying to dally with my patients. He had a feeling that interim would be fraught with tension.
“Tincture of time,” he said to himself. In medical school, one of his professors had said many ailments required little intervention but rather the “tincture of time” to be resolved. Well, in this situation, a short, sweet courtship and a trip to the altar would be his prescription for that young lady.
Eric sat down, opened his Bible again, and read Psalm 133: “Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron’s beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments; as the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.”
Such a short chapter—but those three verses spoke volumes to him. Eric scanned them again and thought about how the Lord was faithful to speak through His Word.
Eric wanted to live in unity here—to be part of this place and help his brothers and sisters in Christ. The Chance men had already invited him to church and sold him a horse for a more than fair price. The folks at the boardinghouse welcomed him warmly. Mrs. White at the mercantile seemed pleasant enough. “The only fly in my ointment is that girl. God willing and tincture of time. . .”
Eric rose. Though he’d missed worshiping at church today, he’d still met with God. He ambled back toward the road. When he reached it, he looked in the direction opposite the town. A white clapboard building stood a ways off. He’d passed it that day he’d ridden out to the MacPherson place to offer his assistance with the birthing. The large size of the church had astonished him that day—but after he’d witnessed the size of the MacPherson clan, it made sense. The mayor hadn’t been exaggerating when he wrote that the town was “thriving.”
Eric walked back to town, dropped off his Bible, then went to see Kitty. He’d told the older woman to send for him if any complications arose during the night. Though no one came, Eric wanted to be sure the girl was all right. He gave a fleeting thought to slipping into the Nugget from the back door. Then again, that would give the appearance that he had something to hide. Instead, he walked through the bat-wing doors and headed straight up the stairs. The medical bag in his hand should provide answers to any questions the good folks of town might have about him frequenting such a place.
❧
“Outstanding medical supplies,” Eric complimented Mrs. White two days later as he paid for Vaseline and five yards of soft, snowy cotton.
“I’m happy to order whatever you require.” Mrs. White wrapped his purchase in brown paper. “Though from all the supplies I saw them unloading at your new place, it challenges me to think you might need anything more.”
“My research showed the town didn’t have a pharmacy. It seemed prudent to stock up on essentials. I thought it silly to pack material for bandages and slings when the mercantile would undoubtedly have a supply.”
“I keep this particular bolt just for medical purposes.” She ran her hand across the fabric to smooth it, then rolled unbleached muslin around it a few times to keep it sanitary.
Eric took note of how she minded such an important detail. “You can be sure I’ll buy more.”
She smiled. “Whenever you need it, let me know. I keep it in the back room.”
“Excellent.” He tucked the package under his arm and left. It was just a short walk down the street to his office. He’d officially take possession of the place today, but when his freight wagon pulled up late last evening, the town lawyer permitted the bullwhacker to dump all of the doctor’s possessions in the just-vacated cabin. Even then, the lawyer declared that at 10:00 a.m. sharp, he’d give Eric the keys—and not a breath before.
Eric didn’t desperately need the cotton or Vaseline. He’d restlessly walked down the boardwalk and ended up in the mercantile. Buying those paltry items gave him an excuse to waste time.
From what he’d seen last night, the building he’d occupy and turn into his office and abode left much to be desired. A single large room made up the entire downstairs, and the sink at the rear had no pump for running water. A pair of support beams stood at awkward places in the middle of the room. The upstairs consisted of two modest-sized rooms.
His priority had to be simply getting things arranged in such a way that he could practice medicine. All other aspects of the move would fall into place in the passage of time.
Thump. “Ouch!”
Eric frowned at the sound coming from his place. He pushed open the already ajar door.
Six
“Mornin’, Doc.” Daniel Chance stood by the closest boxes. He jerked his chin toward the hook on the wall to his right. “Your keys are over yonder.”
“I see. Is everyone all right? Did you need assistance?”
Daniel chortled. “Doc, we’re all right as rain. From the looks of it, you’re the one who needs help.”
“I do have a lot of work ahead of me.”
“Hey, Uncle Dan,” someone called from the head of the stairs, “want us to bring anything else up?”
Dan gave Eric a questioning look.
Eric looked around. “Perhaps my books. I can’t have the boxes lying around down here, but I use my references heavily.”
“Couple of shelves would be handy.”
Three strapping Chance boys stomped down the stairs. Eric took one look and felt a flash of inspiration. “Would you mind carrying over a bookshelf if I buy one over at the mercantile?”
“Dan,” someone said from the doorway, “I bought that metal mesh for the women. Got extra—looks good for keeping flies out the windows!”
“Titus, come meet the doc. Doc, this is one of my brothers, Titus. Titus, Doc Walcott.”
Eric shook the man’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. Back East, they’ve been stretching the mesh in frames and using them as doors. Nice ventilation in the heat of the summer.”
Daniel chortled. “Titus, you’d better track back over to the mercantile and buy up whatever Mrs. White has.”
“Not until I buy some first,” Eric claimed. He looked around and winced. “Forget that. Take it all. I have plenty of other projects to do first to bring this place up to snuff.”
“Like what?” one of the boys asked.
“A wall over there at that post.” Eric waved toward the back. “And another perpendicular to it to divide the room up to this other post. A big T-shape will chop it into three sections. Shelves, cabinets, a pump at the sink. . .”
“Caleb and Calvin, did you hear that?” Daniel asked.
“Yes.”
Titus and Daniel exchanged a look. Titus looked to the tallest boy. “Tanner, you go fetch Peter, Matt, and Mark. I’m sure the MacPhersons’ll spare them. Swing by home and get the tools. We’ll have them ready.”
“Sure, Dad!” Tanner took off.
Feeling as if they’d committed him to something but not knowing exactly what it entailed or what it would cost, Eric held up a hand. “Hang on here.” In the light of day, seeing the true condition of the place, Eric knew he desperately needed this help. On the other hand, he didn’t want these men to feel he—or they—betrayed their women when Eric divested them of their “healing” careers.
“No need to thank us, Doc. We’re just being neighborly.” Titus nodded his head and walked straight out the door.
Daniel smacked his thigh and looked at his nephews. “Two hours. By then, you’d better have it framed.” He strode out.
Caleb—or was it Calvin?—asked, “You got a yardstick �
��round here somewhere?”
“Probably.”
“Never mind,” the other said. “I’ll just pace if off.” He walked heel to toe between the posts and counted his steps. “Doc, I need paper or a slate. Which walls did you want shelves on, and how deep do you want ’em?”
Eric dug out a pencil and a sheet of foolscap. He quickly drew an outline of the room. “Here’s what I had in mind. This area back here will be for washing and sterilizing.”
“You gonna cook any meals on the stove?”
“Not many.” Eric made a face. “I’ll end up having to doctor myself if I do.”
The young men found his admission hilarious.
He tapped the left side of the remaining rectangle. “This will be my treatment room.”
“So you’ll need that big old table there to do examinations.”
“Exactly.” Eric felt a surge of energy. He’d planned on it taking awhile to establish himself and whip this place into shape. All of a sudden, God had opened an opportunity. Enthusiastically drawing a line between the posts to form a T-shape of walls in the room, he said, “Putting a wall here will create a waiting room and my office.”
The boys looked around. “Is there a desk in here somewhere?”
“Back in that far corner, behind the crates.” Eric looked at the two young men. “Let’s set out a plan and budget.”
“We got the plan now, Doc. Tanner’s impatient, and we have framing to do. Cal and I’ll go get the lumber from the feed store. Details will have to wait.”
❧
Chances never do things by halves. Once we get going, we always go overboard, Polly thought as Tanner lifted her into the buck-board. The family tradition started when Uncle Gideon held a cabin raising for Aunt Miriam when she came to help rear Polly and her little sister. What was supposed to be one cabin turned into three that day.
Daddy and Uncle Titus had taken three of the boys to town this morning to help the doc move in his furniture. The project sort of mushroomed from there. Uncle Titus came home and said the doctor needed more help. Fifteen minutes later when Tanner came by, tools weren’t all that filled the buckboard.
“Wait! I want to come, too!” April galloped up.
Polly winced. It wasn’t her place to say no, but having April there would complicate matters. The girl had stars in her eyes over the doctor and couldn’t see reason.
“Aw, April.” Mama Lovejoy slipped her arm around April’s shoulders. “My heart’s set on pie tonight, and my back’s painin’ me too much to make crust. Nobody makes a finer pie than you. Won’t you stay and holp?”
April’s smile wobbled, then lifted. She slid her arm around Mama’s waist and rubbed her back. “Of course I will.”
Dear, sweet April. Polly knew this qualified as a huge sacrifice for her, but she didn’t hesitate. She put Mama ahead of herself. Mama had been kicked by a horse last year and still suffered from it. The whole family pitched in to take over the heavy things whenever Mama took a mind to do too much. It was rare for Mama to ever admit weakness.
Polly smiled at her cousin. “Thank you, April. Thank you so much.”
April continued to rub Mama’s back. “Without all of you underfoot, we’ll turn this place into a bakery.”
“We’ll be sure to come back for that,” Aunt Delilah declared. “I guess we’re off, then.”
Once the buckboard traveled far enough from April to keep her from overhearing the conversation, Aunt Delilah turned to Polly. “Don’t for one moment think we haven’t noticed April mooning over the doctor. Nearly every girl fancies herself in love with a man and makes a nuisance of herself until she comes to her senses. We’re counting on you girls to talk sense into her in that cabin of yours.”
“We’re doing our best,” Polly said.
“Not that it shows,” Laurel tacked on. “Honestly, Mama, I wouldn’t blame the doctor if he got annoyed and told her to go play in the schoolyard.”
“He’s a gentleman. A gentleman wouldn’t do such a thing. If he’s got any common sense, he simply ignores the situation until the young lady decides to cast her affection elsewhere.”
“If she doesn’t cast it somewhere soon, I’m going to be tempted to cast her out the window,” Kate said. “There I am, trying to sleep, and she swipes my pillow and asks me if I think she ought to take up embroidery so she can put her initials and his on a pair of pillow slips!”
Aunt Delilah hid her laugh with a cough. “This is far more serious than I thought if April is considering picking up a needle. The girl does magic with a rolling pin, but she’s deadly with a needle!”
“Maybe you could have Aunt Miriam speak with her,” Polly suggested. She couldn’t be sure whether her aunt nodded in agreement or if it was just the bumpy road that made Aunt Delilah’s head bounce up and down.
Oh, and the road did need work after all the spring rains. The women, tools, and supplies rattled in the buckboard on the way to town. Uncle Titus said the doctor’s place looked filthy as a pigpen, so buckets, rags, and plenty of lye soap rested in a crate next to a good supply of food.
Aunt Delilah jostled against Polly and decided, “First off, you girls go on upstairs and scour it while I tend the kitchen. We’re not taking a morsel of food into the place until it’s spic and span. Then, Polly, while you unload the food, Laurel and Kate can measure the windows. I’ll go to the mercantile and decide on paint and material for curtains.”
Tanner called over, “Doc might want Polly to help him decide on where to put the medical supplies. He has crates of them.”
“It’ll be a pleasure to help him. I’d like to see what’s new, and I can offer him some of our herbs.” As soon as the doctor set up his office, folks would feel comfortable about seeking his help—maybe not at birthings but for other matters. That would be wonderful.
“Polly,” Kate asked, “are you worried about Doc taking away patients?”
“Not at all. Mama and I are excited he’s come. There’s so much we haven’t been able to do. Having him here for surgery and such will be a blessing. There’s far too much for us to handle, and Mama’s happier doing gathering and helping children than anything else. She just doesn’t like me treating the men.”
“None of us do.” Aunt Delilah jounced along with them. “It’s one thing for an older, married woman to work on men, but you’re still a young lady.”
“I’m sure some of those patients will seek out Dr. Walcott’s care. You know me—I’m happiest delivering babies, and there isn’t a man in the world who’s going to need me to midwife him!”
Jars and bowls rattled. “Peter MacPherson, you’d better drive more smoothly,” Aunt Delilah warned, “or lunch will be ruined.”
❧
“Took you long enough,” Calvin greeted them as he swept Laurel from the buckboard.
“Don’t complain, or you won’t eat.” She moved to the side.
Polly winked at Laurel. Only she could say something that bossy and still sound charming.
“No eating until the job’s done,” Aunt Delilah declared as Tanner helped her down from the back of the buckboard.
“What job?” Bob Timpton asked from the boardwalk.
“We’re just helping the doc set up,” Tanner said.
“I’d offer to help, but—”
“Thanks,” Calvin said as he looked at the family ganged around him, “but we have it handled.”
While the men spoke, Polly rummaged through the cleaning supplies. She couldn’t recall having brought any stove polish.
“Let me help you down.”
The doctor’s deep voice startled her. Her head jerked up. “Oh. Yes, well, thank you.”
He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves, and the muscles in his forearms flexed as he curled his hands around her waist. The sight made her go breathless. Dear me, I’m going giddy over nothing. I’m worse than April.
“Here we go.” He had her on the ground in just a second.
“Thank you,” she said again. Realiz
ing she’d thanked him twice, Polly blurted out something—anything—to divert his attention from that stupidity. “Your shirt is white. It’s going to get dirty.”
“All my shirts are white.” He released his hold on her. “And I daresay dirt washes out more easily than blood.”
“True.”
“What can I carry in?”
Minutes later Laurel, Kate, and Polly all had kerchiefs over their hair, smudges on their faces, and dirt on their skirts. Polly missed April. The four of them always worked as a team, and it felt odd to have her gone. She’d stayed behind willingly, and Polly strained to think of a way she could show April her special appreciation for why she hadn’t come today. Perhaps she could press flowers to make her a little toilette water or scent some glycerin soap. April loved lavender and lemon verbena. Either would be a nice little thank-you.
“I declare.” Laurel’s moan jarred Polly from her musings. “I can’t imagine how anyone could live in such squalor.”
Kate vigorously brushed grime from the window frame. “At least the men had the presence of mind to leave most of the stuff downstairs. I can’t imagine trying to wash down all of this with a bed in the middle of the muddle.”
“Middle of the muddle,” Laurel singsonged back. “I like that. It’s fun to say.”
“I’ve never been in here before.” Polly continued to wipe down the wall. “I’m glad it’s plastered. It ought to clean up well.”
“What color do you think we ought to paint it?” Kate nudged a clump of dusty old draperies.
“I don’t know,” the doctor said from the doorway. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. My planning went only so far as setting up my surgery.”
“Since the walls will be clean and nothing’s in here, it’s an ideal time to go ahead and paint.” Polly looked at him. “So do you have any preferences?”
“Do you?” he echoed back.
“Her favorite color is green,” Laurel said.
“Green sounds like a fine color. Your aunt is downstairs attacking my oven. I—”
Laurel let out a peal of laughter. “Take my advice and don’t go near her. You’re liable to be conscripted into doing some of the dirty work.”
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