Winter's Cold Heart (Seasons Book 1)

by Laura Landon

  ©2019

  All rights exclusively retained by

  Prairie Muse Books Inc

  ISBN 978-1-937216-47-4

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  About Laura Landon

  Other Books by Laura Landon

  One

  Lydia McDowell pulled the hood of her cloak lower over her face. Sleet mixed with wet snow pummeled her eyes and stung her cheeks. She could no longer see where she was going.

  Maybe she could use the storm as an excuse to return home and tell her brother that the snow prevented her from finding her way to the doctor’s surgery, but she knew deep in her chilled bones that returning without a doctor wasn’t an option. James was injured too badly. He needed a doctor’s attention. And he needed it immediately. Her fear was that Doctor Joshua Jarvis wasn’t the doctor she should be going for. She should instead be seeking the help of Doctor Elias Weatherby. But her brother had insisted he wanted Doctor Jarvis to tend to him.

  Lydia stepped into a vacated shop doorway to gain her bearings and buried her face in the wet folds of her worn cloak. She wasn’t sure where she was. She wasn’t that familiar with the village yet. She’d only come to stay with James a few weeks ago—just long enough to hear of the horrors Doctor Jarvis had committed. The deaths he’d caused.

  Why on earth had her brother insisted that she fetch this man? He knew the rumors circulating around Jarvis as well as she did. Surely James knew the doctor was incompetent. Everyone in Middleton believed he was.

  Lydia looked through the frosty glass panes in front of her and recognized some of the items inside. She was in front of Russell’s Bakery. Lydia shivered, angry at the cold, angry at the wasted steps, and angry at having to seek out the last man on earth she wanted tending her brother. She’d gone right past his door and didn’t even know it.

  Lydia stepped back into the raging snowstorm and retraced her steps. In a moment she stood quivering beneath the doctor’s shingle that swung overhead, crusted with freezing snow that obliterated his name.

  The windows were dark, but Lydia pounded on the door. Then again.

  “Doctor Jarvis,” Lydia implored as she pounded on the door one more time. She was relieved when a light finally glowed inside.

  The door swung open and Lydia lifted her gaze to look at the tall, broad-shouldered doctor. She struggled to make out his features because the melted snow ran from her forehead and into her eyes, making it impossible to see him clearly.

  “Come inside,” a deep voice demanded. “What are you doing out in this weather? You’re nearly frozen.”

  The doctor clamped his fingers around her arms and pulled her inside. The second he released her to close the door, Lydia nearly fell to the floor. He clasped his strong, sure arms around her again, then kicked the door shut before leading her to a chair by the fire and helping her to sit.

  Lydia tried to speak, but her teeth chattered so violently she couldn’t form any words.

  All around her were the trappings of a well-ordered clinic—instruments neatly aligned on a tray, shelves stocked with bandages and medicinals, and a desk lined with neatly scribed notes. It was not what she’d expected from a man who was so careless with his patients.

  The doctor hovered over her as he placed a thick woolen blanket around her shoulders, then disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a cup of warm tea.

  “I’m sorry the tea isn’t hot. Nor is it fresh. It’s left over from my lunch.”

  “Thank you,” Lydia stuttered. With trembling hands she lifted the cup, but the tea sloshed wildly before she got it to her mouth. Doctor Jarvis knelt beside her and wrapped his fingers around hers to steady her trembling hands. He brought the cup to her mouth and Lydia took a sip of the welcome warmth.

  She lifted her head after she’d taken a swallow and stared at the doctor’s handsome face. When she realized she had watched him far too long, she lowered her gaze to where his hands still touched hers. An unexpected heat radiated from his touch and caused her frozen fingers to warm.

  She allowed him to keep his hands wrapped around hers for several moments before slowly pulling away from him.

  What had caused such a wanton reaction to the man she didn’t know. Perhaps the cold that lingered in her bones had overtaken her good sense. Lydia straightened her back, refusing to believe there was any significance to the response his mere touch had roused.

  “What’s your name?” the doctor asked, interrupting her wayward thoughts.

  “Lydia McDowell,” Lydia answered through her chattering teeth. “My brother is James McDowell, at Cottage Hill. He’s been gored by a bull. You must come quickly!”

  Lydia lifted her head until her gaze locked with the doctor’s. “There’s no time to waste,” she said as forcefully as she could.

  The doctor sucked in a harsh breath then stood upright. His movement brought him to a towering threat. “Then you will want to see Doctor Weatherby. I’ll take you to him.”

  “No. My brother wants you.”

  Lydia noticed the look of surprise and pain on the doctor’s face.

  “Well, I can’t help you. I no longer practice medicine.”

  “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

  “What I once was makes no difference. I no long practice medicine here, so I’ll take you to Doctor Weatherby.”

  Lydia threw off the woolen blanket and bolted to her feet. “I wish you would, sir. I certainly do wish you would! But the fact of the matter is that you will not take me to Doctor Weatherby. My brother does not want Doctor Weatherby. Why, I don’t know. You’re the last doctor in the world I would choose to treat him, but my brother doesn’t feel that way. For some reason, you’re the doctor he sent me for. So, whether you want to or not, you will accompany me if I have to drag you. Now, get your coat and your bag and come with me.”

  A shocked expression that covered the doctor’s face lifted, then the corners of his mouth rose to form a smile. “Are you always this demanding?”

  “When my brother’s life is in danger, yes. Now please, hurry. Get your coat and your bag and come with me.”

  Lydia waited the few moments it took for the doctor to consider his actions before tipping his head. “As the lady demands,” he said, then left the room.

  Lydia released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and sank back into the chair. What had come over her? She’d never behaved so rudely in all her life. She’d never stood up to a man like she’d stood up to Doctor Jarvis.

  When Lydia heard his footsteps coming toward her, she rose from the chair and stepped to the door. She’d left James alone too long already and was desperate to get back to him.

  Thankfully, when the doctor returned he had his greatcoat and medical bag with him. He fastened the coat, then faced her.

  “Stay in here while I hitch the carriage. I’ll pull around front when I’m finished.”

  Lydia nodded, then watched Doctor Jarvis leave through a back door. When the door closed behind him, she walked closer to the fire to take in all the heat she could before she had to go back into the freezing weather. Too soon she heard his carriage stop in front of the surgery. Quickly she slipped on her wet gloves, then walked over to the lamp that was burning and extinguished it.

  The door opened and he entered, stamping his feet and brushing snow from his lapel. “Wear this,” he said as he wrapped a heavy lap-robe around her shoulders. “The carriage is only partially enclosed, and it’s getting colder by the minute out there.”

  Wh
en his fingers lingered on her shoulders adjusting the blanket she had a sudden odd wish that they might remain there. The simple weight of them brought an immense calm after her panicked flight through the snow.

  Lydia expected that he would pull away from her. Instead, he pulled the edges of the blanket tighter around her and kept his fingers locked beneath her chin.

  “We need to be on our way,” he whispered.

  “Yes, James needs you.”

  Lydia looped her arm through his and together they walked through the snow. When they reached the carriage, Doctor Jarvis helped her inside. She sat as near to the enclosing canopy as she could while he hurried around to the other side and climbed up beside her. He secured the low doors that swung shut just in front of their knees, then pulled the brow of the canopy as low as possible to break the bitter wind. Satisfied, he hoisted the reins and tapped the single horse. The carriage lurched forward and he turned it toward the edge of town.

  “Cottage Hill, you said?”

  “Yes, on Littlegate Lane.”

  “You walked all the way into town?”

  “I had no choice. I’ve never hitched a horse to a carriage.”

  “No wonder you were nearly frozen,” he said, then tapped the reins on the horse’s rump again to encourage the mare to move faster.

  “Pull the lap-robe up around you, then lean behind me if you can.”

  Lydia did what he suggested, but before she pulled the heavy blanket up, she did her best to place as much of it as possible over the doctor’s legs. From everything she’d heard he certainly didn’t deserve her thoughtfulness, but she would do whatever it took to keep the man in tiptop shape to treat her brother. When she finished, she leaned her head into the back of his shoulder.

  “Why did your brother send you for me?” the doctor asked when they were on their way. “Doesn’t he know everyone in town believes I murdered the last two patients I treated?”

  “He’s heard the rumors,” Lydia answered. “Obviously he doesn’t believe them.”

  “Rumors?”

  “That’s what James says they are.”

  “What about you?”

  Lydia was silent for a moment. “An entire village can’t be wrong. But anyway, it doesn’t matter what I believe. What matters is that my brother doesn’t believe that you killed Mrs. Smithers or Ivan Crumbly. He said Mrs. Smithers was nearing ninety years. James believes she wasn’t strong enough to survive her illness. And, Ivan Crumbly has done nothing but drink for more than twenty years. James says everyone knew it was only a matter of time until his body couldn’t take any more.”

  “So you came obediently to get the disreputable Doctor Jarvis, without arguing?”

  Lydia lifted her head to see the teasing expression on the man’s face and felt herself blush in response. She was surprised by the gratitude that engulfed her. His playful tone seemed to calm her fear, even though she knew she had best not trust him. Somehow he had lulled her into a level of comfort that she knew she could never allow.

  “No. I argued with him. But it did no good. His mind was made up.”

  “Are you saying he’s as determined as you are?”

  “He’s definitely a great deal more obstinate. He said the people of Middleton are a closed-minded lot and he refuses to listen to their nattering on about your unsuitability for the practice of medicine.”

  Doctor Jarvis looked at her sharply.

  “Hmph. Your brother is probably the only one in Middleton who hasn’t already sentenced me to the public pillory.”

  Lydia studied the tight clenching of Doctor Jarvis’ jaw. He’d endured a great deal at the hands of the people of Middleton, yet he hadn’t packed his bags and moved to a different area where he could practice medicine as he’d been trained to do. Now who was being obstinate?

  “We’re nearly there,” Lydia said, struggling to see through the snow that came down even harder. She squinted her eyes so she wouldn’t miss the corner where they needed to turn.

  “Turn here,” she said, and a few moments later they reached her brother’s cottage.

  Doctor Jarvis saw her to the front door, then took his horse and carriage to the cowshed.

  Lydia rushed inside the cottage, then raced to the room where her brother lay on the bed. He was paler than he’d been when she’d left a short while earlier.

  “James?” she asked, lifting his head for him to take a drink of water.

  “Did Jarvis come with you?”

  “Yes. He took his horse and carriage around to the byre. He’ll be right here.”

  “Good.”

  “You can’t leave me, you know, James,” Lydia said as tears formed in her eyes. “You’re all I have left. I won’t allow you to abandon me.”

  “I won’t leave you Liddy. Unless God needs me more than you do.”

  “He doesn’t, James. I need you more. Just remember that.”

  “I’ll try,” her brother said, then closed his eyes, leaving Lydia to ponder a future without this good man in it.

  Two

  Lydia wiped the tears from her cheeks, then turned around to see Joshua Jarvis entering the room. She rose from where she’d been sitting and Doctor Jarvis came near to examine James. The doctor leaned over her brother and felt his forehead, then placed his fingers to the side of James’s throat.

  “Tell me how the accident happened.”

  “He was separating the stock and the bull just charged him. He tried to get over the stile, but the beast caught him and threw him into the fence. His leg looks terrible.”

  The doctor lifted the covers and his gaze lowered to the blood-stained cloths that covered James’s leg. He lifted the cloths, then examined the wound.

  “Does your brother have any Irish whisky?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bring it to me and more clean cloths and water.”

  Lydia left the room and returned with what he’d asked for. When she entered the room, the doctor’s medical bag was open and he’d removed several instruments as well as several jars of salve and medicinals.

  “Will you need me to help you?” she asked, praying that his answer would be no. She’d never been squeamish when it came to blood, but the idea of watching Doctor Jarvis work on her brother was a different story.

  “No,” he said. “At least not now. I’ll just need you to see that I have plenty of clean water.”

  Lydia sighed with relief. She left the cloths and whisky he’d asked for and went to get the water he would need.

  Again and again she returned to her brother’s bedroom with clean water and anything else Doctor Jarvis asked for. She tried not to look at the wound on her brother’s leg as the doctor worked feverishly to clean the area where the bull had gored James, but her eyes refused to avoid the torn flesh and bony splinters. Instead, she rinsed a cloth in cool water and placed it on James’s feverish forehead.

  Her heart twisted each time she heard the clink of another splinter of bone dropping from the doctor’s forceps into the porcelain bowl. As she rinsed the cloth for a second time, her gaze caught with the doctor’s. “Thank you,” he said. “You make an excellent nurse.”

  “I thought I’d handle this better, but it’s different when the person who is injured is your favorite brother.”

  As an answer, Doctor Jarvis lowered his head and returned to his work. But not before the smile on his face caused her heart to trip over itself.

  Yes, the man was handsome, but why in the world should she even care? He may as well be old with half his teeth missing and a wart on his nose. She didn’t care a whit.

  He’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing his tanned, muscular forearms. The top two buttons of his shirt were loose, revealing a scandalous sliver of his chest. In responding to her emergency, he evidently hadn’t bothered with his cravat, and it startled her that she found the result most unsettling.

  It wasn’t that Lydia had never seen a man’s chest before. She lived with her brother, after all, and had often seen him shir
tless when he came in from the fields after a hard day’s work. But even though her brother was a fine specimen of a man, with bulging muscles and bronzed skin, the sight of him shirtless didn’t affect her like just a glimpse of Joshua Jarvis’s chest had.

  But of course it would not.

  What was wrong with her? Where had these untoward thoughts sprung from? After all, she’d only just met the man.

  “We’re fortunate that your brother lost consciousness and I’ve been able to do at least some of the most painful work before he wakes,” he said, jarring her from her imaginings.

  “Will he be alright?” Lydia asked. She worried that her brother’s skin seemed hotter than it had been earlier.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “He’s been injured quite severely.”

  That wasn’t the answer Lydia hoped for. She almost wished he had lied to her. Everything she knew about the man said she should not be surprised if he did lie. But although she had just met him, she already sensed lying wasn’t in his nature.

  Before gathering the bloody cloths and taking them from the room, Lydia held her brother’s hand for a few moments while she said a silent prayer that he’d be alright. When she reached the kitchen she threw on her cloak and grabbed a wooden bucket, then walked out the door. The water she had wasn’t cold enough to battle James’s fever. Maybe if she used some melted snow to place on his fevered skin it would help.

  She took one step out the door to fill her bucket. The wind was blowing even harder than before and the snow and ice pelted her face with stinging fierceness. Once she felt she’d found enough snow, Lydia turned toward the cottage.

  As she lifted her bucket and took a step, Lydia stumbled, then lost her balance.

  She reached out to break the fall she knew was coming, but there was nothing to stop her. She fell forward, bashing her head on the wooden bucket and landing face-down in the snow.

  Lydia lay there for a moment evaluating her movements. Thankfully, all her limbs seemed to work. The only pain she felt was to her forehead.

  Lydia got to her feet, then scooped up the spilled snow and took it inside. The minute she entered the cottage, the snow that had collected in her hair melted and ran down her face. She grabbed a cloth to wipe the moisture. When she removed it, the cloth came away bloody. She felt no pain, but she attributed that to the fact that her face was so cold she was probably numb.