“Now, Miss Anthony, what can I do for you today?”
Now that she had his full attention, her heart thumped against her chest and her mouth felt as if it was full of sand. She pulled the paper from her bag and handed it over the large desk to his waiting hand. “This,” she was able to get past her thickened tongue, “is an agreement, a lease, Mr. Bartlett made with my aunt. We’ve traveled far — from Boston—to find that he no longer owns the building in question. You do.”
Mr. Shellston opened the rumpled paper and pushed his spectacles up closer to his eyes. Lily assumed he was reading it because he held it before his face while making little sounds. She was conscious of the ticking of his clock.
Mr. Shellston folded it and handed the lease back to her without a comment. She didn’t know what to make of it.
“What do you want of me?” he finally said.
His face was expressionless and warning bells went off in Lily’s mind. “We want you to honor it. Let us in so we can set up our shop.”
“That’s impossible, Miss Anthony.”
Lily wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. He’d taken his spectacles off and was now squeezing the bridge of his nose as if he was dealing with an impetuous child.
“Why? You own the building. You can do with it as you please. Can’t you?”
He sat back and stared at her, making her feel uncomfortable. “In a sense, yes. And no.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is mine to do as I please, you’re correct when you say that. But, I’ve already leased it to someone else. He’s to move in next week.”
Lily sat forward so fast she nearly fell out of her chair. Embarrassed, she righted herself but not before seeing his lips curl in amusement. Was he playing with her? Bringing her along like a trout after a fly? Most assuredly he was. And enjoying it immensely as he wielded the power over her head like a blade ready to fall.
“Mr. Shellston,” she said in a clear, confident tone. “You could honor it if you were so inclined.”
“And your point is, Miss Anthony? I’m a businessman. I didn’t get to be president of The First National Bank of Texas by sitting on my hands. I’ve worked hard every day to make the right decisions. And the right decision now is to lease 33 Spring Street to Arlin Ames because he’s paying me twice what Mr. Bartlett leased it for to you.
Lily stood. She knew his decision was made and she’d not change it. “Very well. I expect to be refunded all the money my aunt sent to Mr. Bartlett. Every last dime.”
“You make the mistake of thinking Mr. Bartlett gave that money to me. He did not. I’m certainly not going to give you money I never received. Now, I’m a busy man, Miss Anthony. If that is all.” He stood, signaling for her to leave.
“That is not all. I will take this up with the mayor. I am sure he will not side with you treating the citizens of Rio Wells this way.”
“Oh, you mean my brother-in-law, Fred Billingsworth?”
He was so smug standing there. His pinched face and wide set eyes reminded her of the dreadful bug in the lobby. Turning, she flounced out of his office and then out of the bank. She stopped when the door closed behind her. She breathed deeply, trying to calm down. Now what? She couldn’t tell her aunt what had transpired. It would not only break her heart but might even make her sick, or worse. She needed to get Mr. Heartless Banker to change his mind. Or else, find another building and come up with the money to rent it. Both ideas, she knew, were about as farfetched as a trip to the moon.
Chapter Ten
Y Knot, Montana
Charity McCutcheon bounded down the massive staircase of the ranch house when she heard the door downstairs open and close. Her waist length hair flowed around her arms and shoulders freely as she’d been brushing it out after a washing. Dressed in a serge blouse, tucked neatly into her riding pants, she looked much younger than her eighteen years. She’d been waiting impatiently for her brothers to return from Y Knot all morning and was anxiously anticipating a letter from John. It had been a long time since his last post and she was more than worried, a sentiment no one else in the family seemed to share with her.
She hurried over to her brother Luke. “Anything for me from the post office?”
Luke placed his hat on a peg and shrugged out of his jacket. Even in spring the elevation of the ranch made the Montana air quite chilly this time of the day. “Hold on, Charity. I haven’t even looked through it yet. Can’t a man get a cup of coffee first?” She ignored his knowing smile. He softened his tone, “I’m sure there’s something for you today.”
She reached for the saddlebag he held in his hands but he hoisted it over his head out of her reach. “Ah-ah-ah,” he said, with a no-you-don’t tone in his voice. “Where’s Faith? I thought she was here with you today?”
Charity fought to be patient, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her toe. The virtue was something she was supposed to be working on. “She was until Rachel and Amy decided to make cookies. They’re over at Amy’s with all the little ones.”
Esperanza, the cook and housekeeper, came into the room carrying a tray filled with cups. There was also a dark brown confection and a stack of folded napkins. The heavy front door opened again and Mark, Matt and Roady entered the room.
“Hey, Char, how’re you?”
“Fine, Roady,” she answered. Roady was more than a hired hand. He’d been with the McCutcheon ranch for years and was Luke’s best friend. He smiled at Esperanza and tipped his hat, making her smooth, dark complexion take on a rosy hue. The newcomers discarded their outer coats and hats and took a seat by the fire.
Luke settled into the sofa and slurped his coffee with gusto. “Nice and hot. Thank you, Esperanza. Charity, how was Holly today?”
“Crying all morning. Faith has to carry her all the time. The second she sets her down Holly starts in. God forbid I ever have a colicky baby. I don’t know how she does it.”
“Holly?” Matt asked.
“No, Faith,” Charity corrected. She settled next to Luke with a wistful glance at the tan leather saddlebag at his feet. Absentmindedly, she gathered her hair and pulled the mass of locks over one shoulder.
Luke reached for the saddlebag. He unbuckled the clasp and withdrew a handful of letters and papers and started shuffling through them. He handed the first post to Mark, who reached for it with the hand that wasn’t stuffing a big chunk of chocolate cake into his mouth.
The posts to his ma and pa he set on the table and several he slipped into his shirt pocket. Charity felt her heart dropping as he came to the last white envelope. He looked up at her, his forehead crinkled and brows arched over his dark eyes as he handed the last one to Matt.
She struggled, trying not to let her disappointment show too much. “I’m really worried about John. He used to write so often. It’s been months since his last post and I’m afraid he might be in some sort of trouble.”
Roady sat forward. “Probably just forgot, Charity. With graduation, and moving to Rio Wells and all. He’s trying to set up a practice, too. That must take some doing.”
Charity shrugged. “What if he’s hurt or something? We wouldn’t even know it. I just have this feeling inside that he needs me.”
Matt took a refill when Esperanza came back with the coffee pot then turned his attention on his little sister. “You need to face the fact that he’s not returning home to Y Knot. He’s a grown man. And he’s chosen something other than ranching. No crime in that.” He took a sip and set the cup back on the table. “I know ma and pa were relieved that he got the position in Rio Wells close to Uncle Winston and the family. Aren’t you going for a visit soon?”
Charity glanced away, hurt. That’s what the plan had been, but he’d not gotten back to her with the dates. It just wasn’t like him to do that to her. Something inside told her that he needed her, but her other brothers would never understand that. “Yes. We just haven’t firmed up the dates yet.”
“Well, stop. Your letter will com
e any day now when he finds a free moment to write,” Matt responded. “By the way, we saw Brandon today. He asked when you’re planning to come to town.”
She stood. Everyone had been throwing her and Brandon together for years, ever since she was a girl and they realized she was sweet on him. To be truthful, she was partial to Brandon and every single thing about him, but sometimes she worried it was her brothers and the whole idea of being part of the family and ranch that attracted him to her. Marrying up would be an easy way to be part of the McCutcheon clan. How could she know if he really loved her? Being an orphan without much knowledge of his past must make a man yearn for roots. It was understandable. Ever since he’d ridden into Y Knot, and taken up residence, he’d been all but adopted by all of them it seemed, and she was glad for it. She hated to think it, but maybe he just wanted to make sure his spot was permanent. “How is he?” she asked.
“Fine. Been working hard. Just hired two new deputies,” Mark added.
“Two? Why?”
Luke reached over and sliced himself a piece of cake. “That’s what I wondered. But, he says the place is growing and he needs ‘em.”
Charity stood, just looking at the men. She couldn’t calm the feeling growing inside her chest. John was in some sort of trouble. She needed to find out what it was. “Oh, by the way, I’ve finally decided to go to the finishing school in Denver Ma and Pa have been after me to attend. Lacey’s School of Proper Lady’s Etiquette. You remember?”
They all looked up at her in surprise. “What?”
“Are you serious? I was led to believe you’d die a despicable death before going there,” Luke said, seemingly over the initial shock of her statement and wiping the crumbs from his hands onto the napkin. “I can’t believe it.”
“Well, it’s true. Mother and I talked it over and she left the final decision up to me.”
Luke glanced around at Matt and Mark. Both men shrugged their large shoulders. Luke continued, “Aren’t you too old?”
“That’s exactly why I’ve decided to go. Mother has had her heart set on it forever and since this is my last chance, I wanted to do it for her, to make her happy. The three months will fly by. Right? Just so you know I’m leaving day after tomorrow.”
Luke stared at her for a few long moments. “You’re sure Ma knows about this?”
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
“I think you should wait until they get back from their trip to Cheyenne,” Matt suggested.
“Can’t.” Charity started up the stairs. “The semester starts in a week. If I leave day after tomorrow I’ll have a few days to get there and a couple more to get settled in. The next time you see me, gentlemen, I’ll be a changed woman.”
***
Dr. Bixby picked up the scalpel and studied the little girl’s exposed abdomen where he’d scissored her undershirt down the middle and laid it open. As a result of the ether, she was in a deep sleep and her mother paced in the other room, her footsteps making the old floorboards creak softly.
“Guess we’re ready,” Bixby said, looking up at John.
Disappointment gripped him. Of course Dr. Bixby would do the surgery. He was still the doctor here. Had been for many years. But the tremor John had seen earlier in the old doctors hands had John more than worried. Before he could voice his concern, Dr. Bixby held the tool out to him. Surprised and humbled to his core, John held the old man’s gaze for a moment before Bixby nodded his approval.
The sharp metal instrument felt good in his hand as he took a moment to gauge its weight. He’d done this exact operation thrice before. He shouldn’t be nervous. However, the other patients had all been adult males, and glancing now at Candy’s peaceful face and miniature sized abdomen made John’s stomach tighten up. There was no going back.
Placing the tip of the scalpel on her soft skin directly above her appendix, he made a straight incision with little effort. Dr. Bixby reached forward with a wad of cotton and dabbed away the blood that sprang instantly to the surface. Several kerosene lamps hug from the ceiling, giving John plenty of light, but after ten minutes their warmth made perspiration break out on his forehead.
“Good,” Bixby said quietly, their heads almost touching as they leaned forward over the incision. “Go slowly, boy. You don’t want to puncture the infected organ.”
When John cut through the muscle and then the sac-like covering of the abdominal cavity, the purplish-black appendix, no bigger than his little finger, popped up like a little marching soldier, making it easy for him to remove. He made the cut and removed it with tweezers, placing it in the pan Dr. Bixby held out to him. Carefully probing the area, John looked for signs of infection. The boy reached up and wiped a drop of sweat that was getting ready to fall.
“Almost done.” John laid the scalpel and tweezers down and picked up a pre-threaded needle. Slowly he closed the clean incision, taking time with each little knot. Finally finished, he straightened and stretched, relieving the muscles in his back.
“You did fine,” Bixby said as he went about cleaning up the blood. “You have a good, steady hand...”
“You’re hands were steady too,” John replied in contemplation. “At breakfast I noticed they were quite the opposite. No offense intended,” he added quickly.
“None taken.”
Bixby finished cleaning up and covered the child with a white cotton sheet from the closet. He tucked it lightly under the child’s chin and brushed back her hair from her forehead, never taking his eyes from her face. Turning, he came out of his thoughts to address what John had said.
“I don’t know why that is. About my hands I mean. I’ve been shaking for about ten years now, but never when I’m in surgery. Just something the Good Lord understands.”
“Then why did you decide to retire if you’re as steady as you’ve ever been when it counts. A lot of doctors practice till their dying day.”
Dr. Bixby removed his apron and threw it in a pile of bloody rags on the floor that would be sent out to laundry. “Makes some people nervous. I guess I understand that. I’m getting up there in age. Can’t deny it.”
John shrugged.
“My maker could call me home any day or night. Before I go, I wanted to test out the man that replaces me. Make sure he’s up to the job. This here ain’t an easy place, boy. People have to scratch out a living from the dirt and rocks. They have to live past the outlaws and desperados. Rio Wells is hell on earth. You may as well know it from the get go.”
There was a tapping on the door. “Doctor Bixby. Can I come in now? Tucker said you were all through.”
He went over and opened it, motioning for Candy’s mother to enter. “Of course, Martha.” He pulled up a chair so she could sit by her daughter’s side. “It went well. There were no complications.”
The woman visibly relaxed, releasing a long wobbling sigh. “Will she be out for long?” The words were unstable as Martha picked up Candy’s hand and held it between her own.
“That’s hard to tell, exactly. Maybe an hour or two.”
Martha stood back up and hugged the old doctor. “Thank you for saving her life. I was so frightened. Now that Daniel is gone…”
“Shhhh. It wasn’t me that saved her. It was Rio Wells’ new doctor. Here, meet Dr. McCutcheon.”
It was as if the young widow was now just seeing John for the first time. She came over to where he was leaning against the counter, still wearing his bloody apron. “Dr. McCutcheon? Are you relations to the Rim Rock McCutcheons?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. Winston and Winnie are my uncle and aunt.”
“Well.” She looked pleased. “That’s wonderful news.” Her face brightened, making her look years younger. She was trim and pretty and her head about reached the bottom of his chin. “Thank you, Dr. McCutcheon. My daughter means the world to me.”
“That’s okay, Martha, that’s what us doctors do,” Bixby said, ushering her back to her chair and sitting her down. “I’m sure Dr. McCutcheon was h
appy to oblige.”
At that moment the clock on the wall chimed and John glanced up remembering Lily’s appointment at the bank. He was an hour and a half late. He’d forgotten all about it, not that he’d have been able to go even if he had remembered. He hoped she’d rescheduled when she couldn’t find his whereabouts.
“Come on, Dr. McCutcheon,” Bixby said, opening the door again and going into the kitchen where the boy was straightening up. With a clatter, the lad dumped the morning dishes into a pan of soapy water. “We’ll be right out here, Martha. Just give a call if you need anything.”
“Have you two met?” Jas asked, gesturing to the boy. “Formally, that is?”
John went over and stuck out his hand to the youth that had been so helpful during the operation. “No. But I’d like to. He really knows his way around with medical things and what to do. John McCutcheon.”
The boy smiled and grasped John’s hand with a firm grip. “I’m Tucker Noble. And I appreciate your kind words. I’ve been working for doc for a while now.”
“Glad to make your acquaintance, Tucker. I really valued your thinking ahead in there.”
“No problem. It’s what I do.”
Bixby cleared his throat. “He’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. If you tell him what to expect he don’t mind bending his back none. He earns five dollars a month.” He paused and looked away before saying, “Now, if you’re smart, you’ll keep him on when it’s my time to go.”
John looked at Bixby suspiciously. “Where’re you going? I was under the distinct impression you were sticking around for a while.”
“Thought you wanted this place to yourself?”
Tucker watched the exchange with interest.
Feeling sheepish over his actions this morning, John shrugged. “I guess I did come off that way. But, after today, I see there’s merit in the idea of you staying around for a while, just while I get settled. Show me the ropes. Is there enough room upstairs for me?”
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