True Heart's Desire

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True Heart's Desire Page 2

by Caroline Fyffe


  “Doctor?”

  Doctor? Now things are beginning to make sense. He wasn’t a doctor, but he wasn’t a rogue either. He wouldn’t take advantage of the situation.

  Her right eye cracked open, but only for a second. She’d be steaming mad if he told her the truth now, and for Shawn’s plan to work, it would behoove him to stay on the Brinkmans’ good side. Perhaps he could help her make the wedding. “This warm oil?”

  “Yes. We were just about to put some in my eye when you arrived. My friend saw you had a dog when you got off the stage. Where is it?”

  Setting his bag next to her on the bed, he bent over. “He’s waiting on the porch.”

  “He won’t run off?”

  “No.” There are no docks to run to and look for Shawn. “Can you open your eye at all?”

  Her right eye opened again, and then her left cracked a tiny bit. Her mouth tightened, most likely caused by pain, and he glanced away. He realized he’d have to lean closer, much closer, to see anything. But first, he needed more light.

  Straightening, he retrieved a second lantern from the far side of the room and set it next to the lamp already burning on the nightstand. He lit the new addition and gave an encouraging smile in response to Miss Brinkman’s wobbly expression. The tracks of her tears made him swallow. He turned both lamps up as far as possible and hunkered down on one knee.

  “All right. I’m just going to look first, see if I can see anything. I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

  With the tip of his finger, he lifted her eyelid from just below her brow, and with his other hand gently pulled down below her eye. She bore the pain like a soldier. They were eyeball to eyeball. He couldn’t see anything amiss.

  He drew back. Nervous now, he rubbed his hands together for a few moments, thinking, and then swiped the back of his wrist across his mouth, realizing with a start that three days had passed since he’d scraped off his whiskers. If he looked frightening, she didn’t show it. “Did you say you had a magnifying glass?” he asked as he stood and glanced around.

  There, across the room on a chair.

  “Never mind.” Retrieving the implement, he returned and knelt again.

  “At this rate, I’ll miss the wedding and the reception.”

  He blinked, and then chuckled when he realized she’d made a joke. “I’ll hurry.”

  “Thank you.”

  It didn’t take a magnifying glass to see her extraordinary beauty. Her heart-shaped face was offset with high cheekbones lightly brushed with peach. Her skin looked incredibly soft. Warmth swished through his veins. In the telescopic glass, her eye, now bloodshot, appeared much larger than normal.

  “There,” he lied. His father had taught him the mind was a powerful tool. Perhaps if Miss Brinkman thought he’d helped her, the pain might go away. “Hold tight. I think I see what’s causing the problem. I’ll make the extraction and then put in a few drops of the warm oil to soothe the sting. After which, we can cover your eye with a patch to keep out the light.”

  “Thank you. If you could, please hurry.”

  Yes, he could do that.

  Using the handkerchief on the nightstand, Rhett quickly twisted the end into a tiny spear. He tried not to be distracted as he again came close, touching the side of her eyeball once, and then another time, lingering a moment or two, just long enough to appear like he was doing something real. Even in an agitated state, her eye was the prettiest one he’d ever seen . . . or had the pleasure of memorizing. Sun-colored flecks, as well as snippets of emerald, filled her fawn-colored iris.

  Finished, he drew back.

  She blinked once and then waited, staring up at the ceiling.

  Working fast, he sucked up a tiny amount of oil into the eyedropper. “Open wide for the oil.” When she obeyed, he squeezed two drops into her waiting eye. She didn’t flinch but clenched her eyes closed. He placed the handkerchief into her hand. “For the excess.”

  She nodded and opened her right eye.

  “Keep your eyes closed and let the oil do its job. I’ll look for something to use as a patch.” He stood and glanced around. A lavender dress draped the back of a chair. A pair of tiny, feminine shoes sat close by. “How does that feel?”

  “Warm.”

  “Can you open your eye?”

  She lifted a hand, dabbed at both corners, and then blinked several times. “I think the pain is lessening.”

  “Good. Now let’s see what we can use to cover it.” He glanced around and saw several hats hanging from the opposite corners of her dresser mirror.

  She rose onto her elbow and turned toward his bag. “Don’t you carry an eye patch with you?”

  He barked out a laugh. “An eye patch? No.”

  “You might consider one for the future. For any more eye emergencies you might have.”

  A yellow straw bonnet was decorated with several wide ribbons. Perfect. Long as well as wide, the sash would keep movement of her eyelid to a minimum. He lifted the headpiece down and in a swift move removed one long ribbon.

  She gasped.

  He turned in surprise. She looked like she wanted to protest—maybe it had been her favorite?—but her lips only wobbled.

  “W-what do you have in your doctor’s case?” she said in an unsteady voice.

  He really shouldn’t, but the thought of what her reaction might be when she saw what the bag contained was just too tempting. He reached for the satchel and clicked the latch so she could have a look. Three long blades glinted in the light.

  At the sight of the knives, she shrank back. “What’re those for?”

  “Need you ask?”

  Color drained from her face. “No. I need not, especially since I must quickly dress. Can you please help me one last time?”

  Help her dress? She might be able to come to terms with him assisting her in her need, but she wouldn’t appreciate him helping her dress once she found out he was no doctor. The last thing he needed if he valued his life—or the reputation he wanted to establish in this town—was a scandal. Putting up his hands, he took a step back and glanced at the door. “Help you dress? I, well, I’ve need of—”

  “I’m the one who should be shy, Doctor, but I don’t have the time.” She smiled, sitting up on the bed. “You’re a physician. The human anatomy is nothing new to you. Besides, I’m not naked under my robe. Please, I insist.”

  If she insisted, what could he do?

  He crossed the room to her dress and carried the garment over. Miss Brinkman, now standing, stripped off her robe without so much as a by-your-leave. A pretty pink corset encased her slender body, as did a pair of fine silk pantaloons and stockings. He jerked his gaze away from her long, slim legs and anchored his attention to an ant crawling on the wall.

  She delicately grasped his forearm for support, but as she stepped in something caught and jerked.

  “I’m sorry but you’re going to have to look, Doctor. I almost fell when I caught my toe in the fabric.”

  He reluctantly turned her way as she tried again, carefully stepping into the gown they held between them. She shimmied the dress up into place, slipping her arms through the delicate armholes. Her creamy skin looked as soft as a rose petal. He swallowed.

  Grasping the material, she tugged down and to the right, positioning the garment perfectly.

  Fascination with her progress warmed his mind. She turned her back to him, an invitation for him to do up the long row of tiny buttons.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. My eye is improving by the minute. Be sure to add a sum to your bill for your assistance in helping me dress, as I’m sure it’s not something you normally do.” She softly laughed. “Our attorney, Henry Glass, will see you’re promptly paid.”

  Encased in the incredibly soft-looking dress, she again cast him a tempting smile over her shoulder. “Please hurry, if you can. Hopefully, they’re holding the ceremony for me. If not, perhaps I’ll catch the kiss. In any case, because of
you, Doctor, all is not lost. I owe you so much more than money.”

  Yeah, like a slap in the face.

  After a moment’s more hesitation, he reached for her. When he was almost finished with the fabric-covered buttons, she spared him another glance and batted her eyes. “My eye still hurts, but nothing like before. You’re a miracle worker.”

  She crossed the room and slipped into her shoes. Standing at the mirror, she wound the yellow ribbon around her head and over one eye, tying it with deft fingers.

  Maybe her eye was feeling better, but her sensibilities were going to be shred to tatters when she found out who he was.

  And that he was as close to being a doctor as he was to being her brother.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  On the sturdy arm of the tall, good-looking doctor, and feeling extremely proud of herself, Lavinia crossed the threshold of the simple church. It was true—his dog had waited patiently at the hotel entrance until his master had called from the side door of the hotel. The dog trotted behind and was now waiting outside the church door.

  Her sisters rushed forward in greeting, their concerned expressions mixed with a double dose of surprise and delight. The twin doors between the entry and the sanctuary hid the bride and bridesmaids from the waiting guests. A pair of stained glass windows on opposing walls were the only decorative adornments. They glowed golden and rose in the afternoon light, heightening the beauty of her four sisters.

  If the number of buggies and wagons parked outside was any indication of how many friends and townsfolk had shown up for the wedding, the church would be bursting. Lavinia had loathed holding up the ceremony but was so relieved the girls were here instead of up at the altar.

  Mavis, always the most conscious of propriety, gently touched the yellow ribbon tied around Lavinia’s head, concern softening her wide-set blue eyes. Her wavy, coffee-colored hair, done up on her head, looked soft and refined, a complete contrast to the long ponytail or messy bun she usually wore while working at the livery and blacksmith shop she’d inherited from their father. Lavinia hardly noticed Mavis’s wrist-length gloves anymore, the ones used to hide the missing pinkie finger on her left hand.

  She smiled even though a small pain pinched her eye. “Most people are used to my homemade hats and adornments,” she said, gesturing to the yellow sash. “The townsfolk will just think I got carried away.”

  Wearing outrageous hats had been her way of getting attention as a child, and young lady, in a sea of outstanding sisters. She wasn’t the youngest, to have been doted on like Katie, or the oldest like Mavis, the boldest like Belle, or the most soft-spoken and feminine like Emma. She’d been invisible. Unseen. Those early experiments with simple hand-sewn felt or crocheted beanies had blossomed into a love of making hats and an offer of an apprenticeship as a milliner back in Philadelphia. Something she’d intended to get back to once things settled down for the family in Eden, if only—

  “Nonsense,” Emma scolded, pulling her away from her thoughts and running her hand down Lavinia’s arm.

  Emma’s strawberry-blond hair made her emerald eyes pop. Their father had bequeathed her the Toggery, a clothing shop in town, and it fit her determined femininity perfectly. She’d begun bringing in more stylish clothing than the women of the West were used to. She’d even graciously offered to stock a few of Lavinia’s hat creations—although, Lavinia thought with an inward frown, none had yet sold.

  “You always look beautiful,” Emma said confidently. No one would ever guess she was still timid in their new home and needed warm milk to fall asleep. “How’s your eye? We hated leaving you behind. Especially in pain. You seem much better.”

  “I am. Due to Eden’s new doctor.”

  She searched out the doctor standing against the sidewall. His gaze caught hers and she smiled, liking his blue eyes as well as the straight white teeth of his smile. He stood tall and comfortable, not asking for anyone’s approval. The women of Eden would corral him soon enough, she was sure. His wide shoulders and rugged good looks would attract most. Powerful legs traveled up to a trim waist and extremely broad chest. Even in his disheveled state, he outshone old, dishonest Dr. Dodge by five hundred miles.

  Her gaze went to his hands clasped in front, but she was too far away to see if he was wearing a wedding ring. That thought hadn’t entered her mind when she’d been in pain.

  “He extracted the offending object and administered warm oil. I’d be lying if I said the pain was completely gone, but I’ll get through the day happily. I can’t sing his praises enough.”

  She had to laugh at her sisters’ astonished expressions.

  Holding her short, simple train over one arm, Belle smiled, excitement deep in her twinkling blue eyes. She had inherited the tannery, which had finally been rebuilt after a devastating explosion several months ago. “Karen came bursting through the doors like a mad mama bear was on her heels. Once she told us you were on your way, there was no way we would go ahead without you.”

  Pride washed through Lavinia as she took in Belle’s veil with its small crown of pink and white alyssum, as well as a scant few early bluebells. Her sister’s shimmering tresses of blond, woven through the blossoms, looked magical.

  “That reminds me.” Lavinia glanced around. “Where’s Henry? Shouldn’t he be here to give you away?” For all intents and purposes, Henry Glass, their father’s attorney, had stepped in as their father after John Brinkman had passed on. They loved Henry—she loved him.

  Emma beamed. “He’ll be right back from seating Karen next to Elizabeth. He probably got to talking since he knew we were waiting for you. I’ll peek in the door and get his attention.”

  She was back in a heartbeat. “He’s on his way. And oh, you should see the groomsmen. They look so handsome in their suits—Moses, Trevor, and Clint. You’d never know they were crusty ol’ cowhands.”

  The doctor cleared his throat and took a step in their direction. “Excuse me, Miss Brinkman, but since you’ve arrived on time, I’ll take my leave.” He glanced at their faces and then to the door. “I hope no one will mind if I scrounge around the café kitchen and find something to eat. I noticed the ‘Closed’ sign right before you whisked me up to your room. I’ll pay for anything I consume.”

  Mortified by her manners, Lavinia rushed over. “Oh no, Doctor, you must stay . . . What is your name? I can’t believe I never asked. I was so preoccupied with my eye . . .”

  The doctor’s face actually colored up, and his gaze darted uncomfortably to her watching sisters. Maybe she’d been correct with her initial assumption and she really was his first female patient. He’d have to get over that if he wanted to be a success.

  “I couldn’t. I’d feel like an intruder. I don’t know any of you. Besides, I’m still in my traveling clothes and—” He rubbed a hand over his whiskered chin. “I’m not presentable.”

  “You look absolutely fine. And you’ll know everyone soon enough. The ceremony won’t take but a few minutes, and then we’re heading over to Mademoiselle de Sells for the reception. I promise you, you’ll be sorry if you decline. They serve the finest food in all of Colorado, and that includes my small hotel café.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “Besides, what a perfect time for you to meet everyone in Eden.”

  Emma, Mavis, and Katie nodded in agreement. She thought she caught Emma poking her elbow into Mavis’s side.

  “Please do,” Belle echoed. “As our special guest. To thank you for all you did for Lavinia.”

  His eyes brightened and he smiled. “That’s a generous offer. So hospitable, I feel I’d be a fool to pass. I’ve heard of Mademoiselle de Sells. Thank you. I’ll just slip into the last bench and make myself comfortable. Ladies.” He tipped his head.

  “Wait,” Lavinia called. “Your name?”

  He gave a roguish wink, the first action that was out of character with his steadfastness and professionalism. “Rhetten Laughlin. At your service. Everyone calls me Rhett.”

&nb
sp; Rhetten Laughlin! Such a name suits him. “But you have no Irish accent.”

  “My father was born in America, but his parents, my grandparents, who came from Ireland, passed soon after his birth. He was raised in an orphanage and didn’t hear the Irish language spoken.”

  Katie touched her arm, behaving like the schoolteacher she’d trained to be. “Lavinia, let him get seated. We need to begin.”

  Their youngest sister’s coloring was much like Belle’s, with her blond hair and deep blue eyes. Her baby sister had flourished in Eden as the owner of the lumber mill, surprising them all. In the past, Katie had at times taken to flights of fancy—but it seemed in Colorado she’d settled down.

  Henry came through the door just as Dr. Laughlin passed inside. The men nodded at each other, and Henry stopped, turned, and gazed at the door in curiosity after the newcomer disappeared.

  Lavinia felt a totally inappropriate blush move through her. “That’s the man who rescued me. Our new doctor.”

  “Ah.” Henry beamed. “Well, good, I’m glad for it.”

  Their friend and attorney looked happier than Lavinia had ever seen him. And why wouldn’t he? A wedding between Blake and one of John’s daughters had been their father’s ardent wish, and no one in Eden had been closer to their father than Henry and Blake.

  “Blake’s ready and able,” Henry said. “And I believe, if my eyes don’t fool me, he’s champing at the bit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an anxious groom.” He clapped his hands together, the way he was fond of doing whenever something important was going his way. “This is your last chance to back out, Belle. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 

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