Snowbound

by Christine Sterling

  “I don’t aim to be just a protector when I marry, and I certainly wouldn’t be sleeping in the second bedroom if I was. My wife would be living at the cabin with me.”

  “But my work is here in Silverpines. That is way too far for me to see my patients on a daily basis. I’m needed here in town.”

  “Then it just won’t work, Chelsea. I’m sorry.”

  “How about we get married and just live apart?” His eyes went wide, and his mouth opened in disbelief. What was she thinking? Chelsea placed her hand on his chest. A bold move in public, he thought. “Don’t you want to marry me, Brawny?”

  “If I marry, my wife will know exactly who she belongs to. She will be right next to me, livin’ with me and sleepin’ in my bed. And when I find the right woman, I will be the one to do the askin’.”

  He thrust his hat back on his head and moved away from her with long strides. Marry her, indeed.

  If he was truthful, he did want to marry her. He had grown to love everything about her these past few months and was hoping it would turn into a more romantic love the longer they knew each other.

  But he wasn’t there yet.

  He wanted to take things slowly and make sure she was just as much in love with him. He definitely didn’t want a marriage of convenience. He wanted a wife that he could love and adore and that was willing to move to the cabin.

  And when he proposed, he wanted to make the event something special. Not in the middle of the sidewalk, and certainly not just for protection.

  He was avoiding her.

  Not that she blamed him. It had been nearly three weeks since she proposed to Brawny and he rejected her. It was apparent that he considered her a tart, but she was serious when she asked. It was partially because she had been getting lewd propositions from the men in town, but mostly because she did love him.

  They had seen each other nearly every day for three months. Sometimes he would just pass through to say hello when the clinic wasn’t busy. Other times, they had dinner together at the diner. They weren’t courting, but she enjoyed the time with him.

  It felt natural that they would take the next steps in their relationship, but Chelsea needed protection, and he was the only one she knew who could provide it for her.

  The Winters brothers had a reputation. No one messed with them. Brawny was the last one left, and most folks gave him a wide path when he rode into town. She knew that same courtesy would be extended to her if she was his wife.

  She hadn’t planned on proposing, she just had a run-in with Milo that morning when she went to check on a patient in the mine’s shanty town. Rubble had fallen on one of the workers that was digging, and he was injured under the weight of the dirt.

  She was just gathering up her supplies and getting ready to leave the tent when Milo cornered her. She tried to pass, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Where are you going, Miss Chelsea?”

  Chelsea tried to pull her arm free, but he only tightened his grip. “You can call me Dr. Tory.”

  “Well Doc, I’m glad you came by, because I’ve got this pain right here.” He pointed to his chest.

  Chelsea was torn for a moment between assisting him and leaving. She remembered her oath and put her bag down.

  “Did you have this pain before?”

  “I got it right after I arrived here.”

  “Is it constant, or does it come and go?”

  He grinned at her, teeth stained from tobacco and coffee appeared behind his curled lip. “Oh, it comes and goes. In fact, it only appears when you are here.” Chelsea picked up her bag and pushed past him, but she wasn’t quick enough to escape his grasp. “Where you runnin’ off to, lady doc?”

  “Let me go, you brute.” Chelsea cried, twisting her arm in his grasp. Her bag fell to the floor, spilling its precious contents and medicine vials to the ground.

  “What’s going on here?” The voice startled Milo and he released Chelsea’s arm.

  “Marty!” Chelsea called. Marty Gale stepped out of the shadows and walked over to Milo.

  “What are you doing over here, Mr. Wooster? Mr. Mac was looking for you at the mine entrance.” Marty pulled Chelsea aside and whispered to her. “You okay, Doc Tory?”

  “She’s fine,” Milo interrupted. “You been following me, boy?”

  “No sir, I came to get Doc Tory because one of the workers got nicked with a pickaxe. Mr. Mac asked me to find her.”

  Milo scratched his chin. “Well then. I was just helping the lady doc pick up the bag she dropped. You know, just being mighty helpful and all.”

  Chelsea started picking up her supplies and placing them back in the bag. Milo knelt down and picked up a scalpel. He touched the tip of it to Chelsea’s gown.

  Dragging the scalpel lightly against her dress, he leaned close so Marty couldn’t hear his words. “You and me will pick this up again later. You say anything, I’ll make sure you regret it. You don’t want that boy getting hurt.” He pressed the blade a little harder against her sleeve and she felt it pierce her skin. “Understand me?”

  “What’s the hold up?” Marty asked. “We need to get back.”

  “No—nothing,” Chelsea stammered. “I’m just getting the rest of my supplies.” She looked at Milo and nodded.

  Milo flipped the scalpel around and handed the handle to Chelsea. She quickly gathered up the rest of her supplies and closed the bag.

  Marty started back towards the mine entrance when Milo called out to Chelsea. “See ya soon, lady doc. Yeah, see ya real soon.”

  She quickened her pace to catch up to Marty.

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone, Doc,” Marty said.

  “I have patients I need to see. I need to come out here.”

  Marty looked back where Milo was standing and tilted his head. “You need to avoid people like him.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to run into him.”

  “Doc Hattie had someone accompany her when she had to come to the mining town and again in Timber Town.”

  “Well, I don’t have anyone to escort me, so we’ll just have to leave things as they are.”

  “When Doc Hattie would come out to visit, the folks were awful mean to her. Especially the menfolk at Timber Town. They didn’t treat her nice. It was Brawny who finally interfered, and they left her alone after that.”

  “Well, perhaps I should have Mr. Winters escort me out here?”

  “I escorted Hattie all the time after that. I’d just bring the wagon and wait while she tended her patients.”

  “I know you don’t have time for that, you are busy enough helping Doc Childs and Dawson.”

  Marty stopped his walking. Chelsea was a few steps ahead when she realized he was no longer next to her. She turned and looked at him. “You know, if you was married, they’d leave you alone.”

  “Married? Why would I want to get married? Just to have an escort into the mine camp? I don’t think so.”

  “But then they’d leave you alone. No man wants to have to deal with a husband.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Wherever did you get such an idea?”

  “Miss Charlotte.”

  Chelsea laughed louder now. Everyone knew of Charlotte’s matter-of-fact ways and she had no qualms about spreading her opinion around like fertilizer in Spring. “I’ll be sure to keep that under advisement.”

  Chelsea heard the clinic door open, the bell pulling her out of her thoughts. She rubbed her arm where Milo had grabbed her. Even though they had faded, she could still feel where his fingers left bruises on her delicate skin.

  “Chelsea, are you in here?” Chelsea recognized the voice of her friend.

  “I’m in the first room, Hattie.”

  Hattie walked in and sat down in an empty chair. “I swear it is getting harder to breathe now. I know I’m not due until February, but this little one can come anytime.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Babies are on their own time schedule. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”

  “N
o,” Hattie reluctantly agreed. “But there is always hope.” She looked around the room. “You quiet this afternoon?”

  “Yes. There aren’t any appointments until 4. So, I was just here wool-gathering.”

  “Uh-huh,” Hattie said with a knowing smile. “Woolgathering about anyone in particular?”

  Chelsea felt her cheeks turn a little flushed. “No. Just thinking about everything that needs to get done.”

  “Well, if you aren’t busy, Robert is still over at Chinatown. There is a meeting this afternoon at the mine office to go over what they are going to do with the bodies they dig up.” She handed a notepad to Chelsea. “These are his notes, with my annotations.”

  “Quicklime? That is pretty caustic stuff.”

  “Yes, but it will decay the remains that remain without odor.” Hattie giggled at her silly joke, then quickly turned somber. “This town has lost a lot.”

  Chelsea put the papers in her lap. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Since Robert is still at the tent village, I was wondering if you could go and brief safety on using the quicklime.”

  “Me? Go to the mine office?” She hadn’t been there since that day Milo confronted her. She was avoiding him as well as Brawny. She confided in Robert that she no longer felt safe. He didn’t ask any questions, he just picked up the mine camp as part of his rounds.

  “Just for this meeting. I can’t go because I can barely move.”

  “You can’t brief someone else?” Chelsea didn’t want to run the risk of running into him.

  “Robert had planned on doing it, but his rounds have doubled, so perhaps you can step up to the plate?”

  Chelsea sighed. It was her fault that Robert’s caseload was twice what it should have been. This was the least she could do. If he needed someone to brief the meeting, she would put aside her fears and go back to the mine office.

  “Lacey Lou can handle it if anyone comes in. And you are right next door,” Chelsea conceded. “Let me review these. What time is the meeting?”

  “Three o’clock.”

  Chelsea nodded. She grabbed the copy of the New Warren's Household Physician Medical Book from her desk and slid the papers in the front. “I’ll take this with me.”

  “The meeting isn’t for over an hour. You are going a bit early, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not leaving yet. I’m going to the apothecary to have a cup of tea and review these notes. And you are going to help me.”

  Hattie laughed and pushed herself out of the chair. “Mint or lemon?”

  “Definitely mint.”

  Chapter 3

  February 15, 1899

  Ten months. They had been gone ten months.

  Brawny lifted the brown jug to his lips and took a long swallow. It did nothing to drown out the memories.

  He lost everyone but his Ma. His father and 3 of his brothers were gone. It could have been his brother, Jack as well. But he and Jack drew the short straws and had been sent to New Hope a few days before the earthquake.

  Jack and Brawny were on their way back home when the second quake hit, causing the landslide which decimated Timber Town. It was just by sheer luck that their horses didn’t fall off the path when the rumblings hit and take them down in the river of mud as well.

  Their father and two brothers were immediately killed. His brother, Pete, they found caught between two trees, his leg mangled. They were able to get him to the saloon, where Miss Hattie tended to him until he passed.

  Then Jack had to go and do something stupid, like kidnap Miss Hattie. Brawny took another drink. The corn liquor burned as it went down his throat.

  He hated the stuff, but he remembered how his father and brothers would go out in the barn and sneak a sip away from their mother’s eyes. Ma would have tanned their hides if she knew what they were doing. It didn’t matter that they were all grown men, she ruled the house with the bible and a rod.

  You didn’t cross Ma.

  Pops said it was better that his boys learned these skills from him, instead of the lumberjacks and the rotgut they drank in the small wooden houses along Timber Town.

  He sat the bottle on the ground and placed the cork loosely in the top.

  Memories. They were all he had.

  He thought by coming out to the barn he would feel closer to his father and brothers. When he found the brown jug, he thought it might bring a measure of release.

  He exhaled loudly. Where did God go? Brawny hadn’t seen Him in the past eight months. He rubbed his hand down his face, his fingers catching on his eye patch. The patch pulled out and snapped back in place causing pain against the skin.

  He hadn’t looked at his face since losing his eye in late November. There was light rain that fateful day. He could still imagine the scent of the quicklime; thick and chalky as it exploded into the air and singed his skin.

  Fortunately, he had passed out, only coming around when he was in the doctor’s office. Doctor Robert Childs had just cauterized his eye.

  He remembered seeing Chelsea standing over him, her hands feeling cool on his burning skin. He regretted not taking her up on the proposal of marriage, but a man had to have some pride. It was a turning point in their friendship. Normally she had a joyful expression on her face, now she just looked sad.

  It seemed that nothing could shake her out of this sad state, until that day. He opened his eyes to see her standing over him and he saw emotions he had never seen before pass over her features.

  Instead of concern, he saw her face recoil in disgust. Tears leaked from her eyes and she turned away. He winced, watching her look away, and he knew he would never ask to court her.

  He saw her a few times after Doc Childs had cauterized his eye, but he didn’t talk to her. He would catch her looking at him as he followed Doc into the examining room, but he would turn away before they could make eye contact.

  Brawny leaned back against the wall of the cold shed and pushed the patch back in place. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to go tend to the goats and check on his ma who was suffering with a chest cold.

  He said a quick prayer and stood up, knocking the jug over. Liquid spilled onto the floor and the odor of corn liquor filled the air.

  Brawny was glad that it tipped over. His two drinks didn’t bring him any closer to his father or brothers. He didn’t bother picking it up as he headed out into the cold air.

  March 1, 1900

  Brawny heard the cough coming from his mother’s room. “Ma?” he asked, gently knocking on the door.

  The coughing became louder and the door opened, letting Brawny into the room. Mary Winters walked back to the rocking chair in the corner and sat, holding her chest as she continued to cough.

  Brawny walked over and knelt down next to his mother. The strong woman he knew looked frail as she covered herself with a lap blanket between coughs. Brawny rubbed his hand on her back, trying to soothe the rattling in her lungs.

  “Do you want me to make you some tea?” He asked, feeling her back convulse under his hands. Mary Winters shook her head.

  “No--- no,” she managed to croak out. “I don’t think I could drink it right now.” She pointed to the foot of her bed, her hand shaking. “Can you get me the quilt? I’m so cold.”

  Brawny removed the folded quilt and wrapped it around her front, tucking it behind her shoulders and hips. She sighed as she settled into her cocoon.

  He went and removed a pair of his father’s socks out of the top drawer and came over, kneeling again, this time in front of her.

  “Here, Ma, let’s get your feet warm too.” He lifted her foot, removing the thin house shoes. “Your feet are like ice.” He rubbed her feet until he felt them warm up and then he slipped on the socks, tucking her feet back under the blanket. “I should go get the doctor. You sound terrible.”

  “I don’t want no doctor coming here,” she insisted. “Was bad enough when the last one came. Was stuck here for a whole week trying to take care of that Indian woman.”
Her voice came out in raspy gasps.

  “You mean Doc Childs?”

  “Some fancy doc from Boston, I think it was.”

  Brawny nodded, “That would be Doc Childs. He married that Indian woman. She’s a doctor too.”

  Mary nodded. They never talked about that day or week when Robert and Hattie had to stay in the small cabin.

  “Hard to believe that Jack has been gone for so long.”

  Brawny didn’t say anything. His brother was buried on the far side of the property, under a clump of pine trees. He didn’t need to, as his mother looked out the window as if lost in a memory and started to rock gently back and forth.

  “I’m so tired, Brawny,” she said. “The coughing has kept me awake most nights.”

  “You been fighting this since before Thanksgiving. I really wish you’d let me either take you to the doctor or get one out here to look at you. There is no need to be stubborn, Ma.”

  Mary looked back at him. She reached her thin arm from under the covers and cupped his cheek. “My sweet boy. This will pass; it is just a cold. I just need some rest and maybe an onion poultice. Can you make me one? The onions are in the root cellar.”

  Brawny nodded. He grimaced at the thought of an onion poultice. He remembered that his mother would plaster them to his brothers’ chest and feet whenever they got a cold. He gently tucked her arm back under the blanket.

  “Gonna go stoke the fire to make it warmer in here and I’ll make you a poultice. Rest, Ma. Be back soon.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead, but Mary was already asleep. He left the door open so the heat from the stoves would travel to her room.

  Brawny returned to the kitchen and stoked the fire in the stove, adding a few more pieces of wood from the wood box next to the door. He then went to the living area and did the same with that stove. The kitchen stove coupled with the one in the living area would keep his Ma warm.

  He returned to the kitchen, grabbing his coat and hat on the way in. Quickly checking the temperature of the coffee pot on the back of the stove, he found it to still be warm. Grabbing a cup, he poured the last of the coffee and took a sip. He was going to need the warmth before he headed outside. He drained his cup and placed it at the back of the stove to keep warm.