by Ann Shorey
Elijah straightened his shoulders and grabbed his hat from its resting place atop the skeleton in the corner. On his way out, he stopped in front of Miss Saxon’s desk. “I have a call to make. I’ll be back by one. You may take dinner early if you like.”
“Thank you. Perhaps I will.” Her tone was respectful, but cool. She turned her attention back to the open ledger.
Feeling the chill of her response, he left the office, eager to complete his mission. She’d be pleased to see Galen and Miss Graves reconciled. Perhaps his efforts would restore his relationship with Miss Saxon, as well.
Early morning clouds had dispersed, revealing a brilliant blue sky. Whistling, he strode along King’s Highway toward Courthouse Square, passing the barber, a boot maker, and a dress shop before crossing the street to the block that contained Lindberg’s Mercantile. Miss Haddon stood gazing out the front window of the store. He tipped his hat to her, marveling again at Miss Saxon’s proclivity for taking in strays.
He turned the next corner and pushed open the door of the jailhouse.
“Thaddeus, I have a favor to ask.”
After Dr. Stewart left, Rosemary sprang to her feet. His absence gave her a perfect opportunity to dust and sweep his private office, as well as the examining room. She collected the necessary supplies from a cupboard and began her task in the doctor’s office.
In contrast to his often rumpled appearance, he kept his books and papers arranged in tidy stacks. She dusted the bookcase, gritted her teeth and brushed dust from the skeleton, then tackled the desktop. A book lay open facedown. Her eyes widened when she read the title—A Compendium of Herbal Medicines. The same volume she had at home.
She darted a glance at the door. It wouldn’t do for him to remember he’d forgotten something and return while she was—admit it—snooping on his desk. She flipped the book over to see what he’d been studying. “Comfrey: Description, Cultivation, Parts Used Medicinally.”
An alarm bell rang in her head. It wasn’t enough that he forbade her to offer remedies to his patients, now he was arming himself to overrule her recommendations. Well, let him study all he wanted. He’d not find errors in her judgment.
She returned the Compendium to his desk, careful to position the book as she’d found it, then returned to cleaning. Her mind raced. She had until one o’clock—time enough to walk to the mercantile and share her concerns with Faith.
As soon as she swept the last bit of dust out the door, she whistled for Bodie and the two of them hurried toward the center of town.
Rosemary paced between the fabric display and the storeroom in the mercantile. Thankfully, Faith and Cassie were alone so she could share her concerns.
“Why do you think he’s reading Mrs. Kilbourne’s book? Is he planning to report me to the county medical society?”
Faith leaned over a counter displaying watches and ladies’ brooches. “How can he? Your suggestion to Mr. Eldridge helped him heal.”
“Dr. Stewart would debate that.”
Cassie rose from one of the chairs beside the stove. Her polished chintz dress rustled as she stepped next to Rosemary and patted her forearm. “Why don’t you ask him why he’s reading the book?”
“I can’t let him know I was poking around on his desk. You’ve seen him when he’s upset.”
“He’s bound to notice that the room’s been cleaned.” Cassie turned to Faith. “Don’t you agree?”
“Men don’t notice things like that. Curt certainly doesn’t. I think Rosemary’s right. She can’t come out and ask.” Faith placed her forefinger against her lips and stared at the floor for a moment, then turned her head in Rosemary’s direction. “Maybe he’s sincerely interested. Have you considered that possibility?”
Rosemary snorted. “Not for a moment. You should have heard him last night. His mind is closed tighter than a snapping turtle’s jaws.”
“Apparently not,” Cassie said. “I think—” Her mouth dropped open and she pivoted toward the door. “My mother’s here! Driving the buggy by herself.” She dashed out to the hitching rail, where Mrs. Bingham struggled to secure the horse. A passing freight wagon caused the animal to jerk its head sideways.
“Hold still!” Cassie’s mother snapped. She sounded near tears as she tied the reins.
“Where’s Mr. Bingham?” Cassie’s high-pitched question carried through the open door.
“He took sick a few days ago. His man is sitting with him, but I don’t know how much good that old buzzard can do.” She leaned on her daughter as they entered the mercantile. When she spotted Rosemary, she straightened.
“Here you are. Don’t you ever stay in one place? I’ve been to your house and the doctor’s office looking for you.”
Rosemary forced a polite smile. “Shall I send Dr. Stewart to your home? He’ll be in the office soon.”
“No. Mr. Bingham doesn’t trust doctors.” The woman’s red hair framed her ashy complexion. “I want one of your tinctures.”
“What are your husband’s symptoms?”
“He says his stomach is jumping. Everything he eats comes back up.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I’m so worried.” She looked at Cassie. “I know he’s a harsh man, but I need him.”
Rosemary had never heard the woman apologize before. She glanced in Cassie’s direction to gauge her response.
Cassie’s lips thinned. “You don’t need him, Mother. Look what he’s done by sending me away. We were fine before, just the two of us.”
“We lived on your uncle’s charity.” Her mother scowled. “I’m not here to discuss family matters. Miss Saxon, will you help or not?”
“Ginger tea should settle his stomach.” Rosemary went to the shelf holding her soaps and teas. She selected a blue cloth-wrapped bundle that had a paper tag tied on with a green ribbon. “This is dried ginger root. Boil some for ten minutes and give him a cupful between bouts. You should see results within a day.”
Cassie’s mother dug into her handbag. “Ten cents is rather dear for a bag of roots.”
“I’m not forcing you to buy them. You’re welcome to find another remedy.”
The woman’s glare could have blistered paint. She slapped a coin on the counter. “This better work.” Her expression softened when she looked at Cassie. “I wish I could stay longer, but I don’t dare.”
“I know.” Cassie kissed her cheek. “I miss you,” she whispered.
Tears swam in Rosemary’s eyes. As brusque as Mrs. Bingham seemed, she loved her daughter.
A longing for her own mother shuddered through her. She drew a deep breath and forced her thoughts to her questions about Dr. Stewart. Faith and Cassie both suggested he might be interested in her herbal remedies. Maybe he was. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
Dr. Stewart returned after the dinner hour. He gave Rosemary a broad smile when he greeted her and then strode into his office. After dropping his hat on top of the skeleton’s head, he settled in his chair and opened the book resting on his desk.
Taking courage from his cheerful expression, she stepped to his doorway. “I notice you’re reading Mrs. Kilbourne’s Compendium.” She strove to keep her voice neutral. “Are you finding her information helpful?”
“You know this book?”
“I have a copy at home. My mother gave it to me when I turned twenty-one.”
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with a puzzled expression. “A strange gift. Perhaps a ring or a brooch would have been more appropriate for such an occasion.”
“At the time, her expectation was I’d follow in her footsteps and help people with her herbal remedies.”
“And then the war came?”
“Yes.” She flinched when she realized she’d revealed her age, something a lady never did.
He rested his hand on the open pages. “I’m only reading this out of curiosity. These little treatments are interesting, but I’m far from convinced of their effectiveness.”
She bristled. “I’ve seen them succeed where docto
rs fail.”
“Miss Saxon—” He raked his fingers through his hair, making the curls stand on end. “For once, can we still the debate? When I’ve finished reading Mrs. Kilbourne’s theories, I’ll make up my own mind. Then we’ll talk more.” He used the same voice he reserved for calming agitated patients.
“I’ll look forward to the discussion.” She hid a pleased smile. Their relaxed conversations had come to mean more to her than she liked to admit.
17
Broken clouds scattered a mosaic of sunlight over the boardwalk as Rosemary set off for Sunday supper at Faith’s home. Much to her disappointment, the week had passed without Dr. Stewart mentioning the Compendium again. She shook her head to dislodge him from her mind. She wouldn’t allow his opinion, or lack of it, to spoil time with her family.
Bodie frisked around her legs as they walked. She smiled down at him. “You enjoy Sunday supper as much as I do, don’t you?”
He woofed and disappeared under a lilac bush that frothed with lavender blooms. Rosemary slowed her pace to savor the fragrance. Lilacs always blossomed in time for her mother’s birthday at the end of April. With a pang, she pictured a bowl of the flowers gracing a table in her home.
A moment later, the dog burst forth in pursuit of a gray and white cat. Fur bristling, the feline darted across the street and under the porch of the brick house Faith and Curt shared with Judge Lindberg and Amy.
Her jaw tightened when she recognized Sheriff Cooper’s chestnut gelding tethered to the hitching post in front of the house. She wouldn’t have come if she’d known he’d be there. One day she’d have to forgive him for his misguided persecution of her brother. She knew that. But not today.
Faith opened the door at her knock. “Welcome. Grandpa’s been looking forward to your visit.” She glanced down as Bodie scampered past them into the parlor on her left. “Good. You brought the dog.”
“He’s anticipating a plate of table scraps.” She chuckled.
“Cassie couldn’t join us?” Faith spoke over her shoulder while leading the way to the parlor.
“She sends her regrets. She’s fretting about her mother. Mr. Bingham still isn’t well.”
“The poor girl. Wish we could think of a way to improve her situation.”
“I wrote him a letter. I’m hoping he’ll respond favorably once he recovers.”
When Judge Lindberg saw Rosemary, he pushed himself up from his green wing chair and crossed the room, his cane tapping the polished wood floor.
“Always a pleasure, Miss Rosemary.” He bowed over her hand.
“And you, Judge.” She smiled at his courtly manner. He greeted her in the same fashion even when he saw her more than once a day. She suspected he forgot she’d visited, so each occasion was fresh in his mind. What a blessing Faith had Amy to stay with him while she operated the family business.
Sheriff Cooper unfolded his rangy form from the sofa. “Good afternoon, Miss Saxon.” His sandy hair appeared freshly barbered, and he’d waxed his drooping moustache so that it formed a straight line along his upper lip.
“Sheriff. This is a surprise.” She took a chair as far across the room from him as possible.
“Thaddeus here is courting our Amy,” the judge said. “He’s getting to be a regular fixture at suppertime.”
To Rosemary’s amazement, the sheriff blushed. “Amy’s a fine woman, and a good cook to boot.”
Faith spoke from the doorway. “Our good cook has supper ready. Please come and eat.”
Curt stood at the head of the table in the dining room, slicing a crusty baked ham. He waved a greeting at Rosemary with the carving knife and then resumed his task.
Amy’s fourteen-month-old daughter, Sophia, toddled in Rosemary’s direction. “Romie, Romie!”
She swooped the child up and kissed her button nose. After hugging Amy, she took a seat next to Judge Lindberg, her mouth watering at the fragrance of the savory baked ham. A parade of side dishes, including sweet potatoes mashed and baked with a pecan crust, beets swimming in vinegar sauce, and a platter heaped with golden biscuits, moved from hand to hand along the table. She suspected Curt and Faith made sure she had a sumptuous meal once a week to balance out her own simple fare.
Between bites, Rosemary’s gaze traveled between the sheriff and Amy, then to her brother. Judging from their easy conversation, Curt appeared to bear the sheriff no ill will. She wondered how he’d managed to forgive the man who’d treated him like a criminal after the mercantile was robbed the previous year.
The grudge she bore the lawman threatened to choke her. She crossed her knife and fork over her half-finished meal and stared at the napkin in her lap. Lord, please take away my anger.
After clearing the supper plates, Amy served slices of Dolly Varden cake. As soon as she returned to her seat, Sheriff Cooper cleared his throat. “Miss Amy and me have news. Come July, we’re fixing to have the preacher marry us. Right here in the parlor, just like Curt and Faith was.”
Amy lowered her lashes. A pink flush bloomed on her heart-shaped face.
Stunned, Rosemary paused in mid-bite of the jam-filled dessert. She remained silent through the wave of congratulations. Amy said yes to the sheriff?
The beaming girl met Rosemary’s eyes. “Would you put flowers around the room for us? You made everything look so pretty when Faith married your brother.”
The sheriff placed one of his broad hands on Amy’s shoulder and leaned toward Rosemary. “You don’t have to. I know you don’t care for me much.” His tense expression reminded her of a little boy facing punishment.
She focused her attention on Amy’s hopeful face. “I’d be happy to. My garden should be in full bloom by then.”
Faith rose from her seat at the foot of the table and smiled at Amy. “Why don’t you and Thaddeus enjoy a stroll together? Rosemary and I will look after Sophia.”
While Curt and Judge Lindberg played chess at the dining room table, Sophia sat on a braided rug nearby, playing with carved wooden animals. Dishtowel in hand, Rosemary watched them from the kitchen doorway, her mind circling the image of Amy married to Sheriff Cooper. She turned to Faith. “He’s at least a dozen years her senior. Do you think she’ll be happy?”
“She’s come to love him. He treats her like she’s made of spun sugar, and he’s very fond of Sophia.” Faith shook dishwater from her hands and dried them on a corner of her apron. “The marriage will be a blessing to all three of them.”
Rosemary lowered her voice. “I certainly hope so. Amy was shattered when Joel was killed. She deserves to be happy.”
“You’re allowing your dislike of Thaddeus to influence you.”
“He’s Thaddeus now?” Irritation spiked her tone.
Faith placed her hand on Rosemary’s shoulder. “Let it go. Please. For your sake.”
“How did Curt—?”
“You’ll have to talk to him. I think Reverend French helped somehow.”
“Did I hear my name taken in vain?” Curt stepped inside the kitchen. He slid one arm around Faith’s waist and kissed the top of her head. “Did you ask her?”
Rosemary looked up at her brother. “Ask me what?”
“Amy will be living in Thaddeus’s home when they’re married. We’re hoping you’d move in with us and take her place as companion for Faith’s granddad.”
Companion for Faith’s granddad. Curt’s words echoed as Rosemary strode along the boardwalk toward her home across town. How could she refuse? Judge Lindberg’s mind had been failing for some time. He was most content among familiar surroundings.
Between managing the mercantile and caring for her grandfather, Faith had been near the end of her endurance before Amy’s return to Noble Springs following her husband’s death last year. Now, with Amy’s departure, Faith had nowhere else to turn for help.
Rosemary’s boots thudded with every new thought that assailed her. If she responded to Curt’s request, she couldn’t keep her house. She’d have to abandon her herb garden.
And what would happen to Cassie?
She kicked at a pebble on the walkway. She didn’t want to lose her independence or give up nursing. What had begun as her best option for earning her own way had grown into a source of pride as she’d come to see her job as a profession. There was no reason a woman couldn’t care for the sick as well as a man did—maybe better.
No doubt Faith and Curt needed her. Then a vision of Mrs. Haggerty’s gratitude for having Rosemary’s help with the delivery of her baby crossed her mind, followed by one of Benny’s mother thanking her for caring for her injured son. They had needed her too.
She paid scant attention to the buggies that rolled past, until one pulled abreast and stopped.
“Miss Rosemary?” Jacob raised his hat. “I’d be happy to take you wherever you’re going.”
Startled from her reverie, she hesitated a moment before replying. In truth, she’d rather be alone to struggle with her decision. But the weight of her carryall packed with leftovers dragged at her arm, and Jacob’s kind face beckoned.
“Thank you. A ride home would be nice.”
After helping her into the buggy, he stowed the carryall behind the seat. Bodie followed them as Jacob turned right at Courthouse Square. He slowed the horse when they rounded the corner onto King’s Highway.
“Would you like to accompany me to Hartfield next Sunday? I need to see a farmer about supplying me with eggs.” His eyes met hers. “You might be interested in learning how the business is run.”
She had little interest in the operation of the grocery, but perhaps . . . “Could we stop along the way so I can call on a friend of mine? I won’t stay long.”
“Be glad to.” He stopped the buggy in front of her house. “See you next Sunday.”
She sighed as he drove away. As attractive as he was, he wasn’t the one who stirred her heart. Admit it. Dr. Stewart is another reason you don’t want to leave nursing.