Kansas Courtship (17 page)

Will put his hands on his hips. “What is
wrong
with you?”

Zeb aimed his chin at the curtain. “If she wants to see women and children, fine. But we still need a male doctor.” He hadn’t planned on taking such a hard stand, but Will had goaded him. He almost said he’d be paying her half just to make a point, but his conscience stopped him. Zeb could be spiteful, but he wasn’t
that
bad.

Pete shrugged. “As long as we’ve got a doctor, I’m happy.”

Rebecca smiled at her husband. When Pete grinned back, Zeb wondered if they had a baby on the way. He understood Pete’s hope for children. He had the same dream himself. Blinking, he imagined a little girl with red hair and blue eyes. The thought made him crazy and he shot to his feet. He had to get out of the parlor before he started liking oil paintings again.

He looked at Alex. “How about a trip to the mercantile? We’ll get licorice for everyone and bring it back.”

“I have to ask Dr. Nora.”

Before Nora had interfered, Alex had looked to
him
for guidance. He’d been thinking about adopting the boy. Now Alex considered Nora his guardian.

The boy peeked into the sickroom. “Dr. Nora? Can I go with Zeb to the store?”

Zeb heard her voice through the curtain. “May I,” she corrected. “And yes, you may. Just don’t overdo it.”

“I won’t.”

Alex popped out from the curtain, grinning like a prisoner loosed from a jail cell. As Zeb opened the front door, he heard Will talking to Pete. “I don’t care what Zeb says. Once word about Missy and Bess gets out, anyone in town’ll be happy to go to Dr. Nora—male or female. And when that happens, Zeb will have no choice but to admit she’s the only doctor we need.”

Will had that know-it-all tone that had irked Zeb for years. “Not a chance,” he said, turning back to face his friend.

“I say Dr. Nora has her first male patient by Sunday.”

Zeb laughed. “That’s just three days away.”

“So you have nothing to lose by agreeing.” Will rocked back on his heels. “If you say that you’ll accept Dr. Nora if she gets a male patient in the next three days then there’s nothing on the line except your pride.”

“It’s a deal,” Zeb said. “With one condition.
You
can’t be the patient and neither can Pete.”

“Fair enough,” Will acknowledged.

Rebecca and Bess looked at him with a giggle in their eyes. Zeb felt like an adolescent fool for fighting over Nora, so he pushed open the door. “Come on, Alex.”

Side by side, they walked to the store. Instead of chattering about candy and wooden horses, Alex talked the whole way about Dr. Nora. Zeb’s thumb throbbed. So did his heart. He ignored them both.

Nora stood back as Emmeline spooned the last drop of soup into Missy’s mouth. Will and Bess stood on one side of the bed, and Mikey was perched on the foot of the narrow cot.

Nora couldn’t have been happier for the twins. Will and Emmeline had just promised to adopt them. Mikey and Missy wouldn’t have to worry about being separated ever again. Counting Bess and Emmeline’s other siblings, Glory and Johnny, plus Emmeline’s mother and her new husband, the Logans had a huge family and the promise of babies of their own.

A bittersweet joy tightened Nora’s chest. She wanted a husband and children. But she wanted them with Zeb. Considering Zeb’s tone, that dream seemed as impossible as flying. Needing distraction, she turned to the counter where she kept her apothecary jars, spooned sumac leaves into a bowl, then searched the shelf where she kept small bottles of liquid medicine. She needed tincture of myrrh, found it and excused herself.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said to Emmeline. “I’m going to brew a tea for Missy.” The family barely noticed when she left.

Nora went to the kitchen. Carolina was filling the teakettle, and Rebecca and Bess were chatting at the table. Nora loved
her new friends, but she couldn’t stop envying the Logans and their big family. She blinked and imagined a boy with Zeb’s dark hair. She wanted a girl, too. Nora loved dolls and games. She’d done her first doctoring on a rag doll with a torn arm.

“Hi,” she said as she set down the medicines.

All three of them smiled at her. Rebecca spoke first. “If this doesn’t show people you’re a good doctor, nothing will.”

Bess’s face lit up. “I want to shout it from the rooftops, at least the ones that are fixed.”

“Thank you both,” Nora replied. “We’ll see what happens.”

Rebecca’s eyes twinkled. “After you left the room, Zeb and Will got into it again. They made a deal about you.”

Nora was afraid she knew what they’d talked about. She’d heard Will’s dig about male patients. “What’s the deal?” she asked Rebecca.

“Will thinks you’ll have a man for a patient by Sunday. If you do, Zeb has to admit you’re all the doctor we need. Zeb says it’ll never happen.”

Nora groaned. “If word gets around, no man will want to be first. I’ll never have male patients.” She thought of Clint and his cough. He’d be sure to avoid her now.

As Nora put the leaves to boil, someone knocked on the door. Carolina was filling a basin with boiling water, so Nora waved for her to stay. “I’ll get it.”

Walking across the parlor, she wiped her hands on her apron. Putting on a smile, she opened the door and saw a woman she recognized from the visits she’d made her first week in town. Lanie Briggs was married to Tom Briggs, the man working on the town hall with Zeb. She had her little girl with her, a toddler with a lazy eye. The woman studied Nora with a mix of hope and suspicion.

“I’ve come about Ginny.” She hoisted the little girl into her arms. “Can you fix her eye?”

“Maybe,” Nora replied. “If you patch her good eye, her lazy eye will have to do more work. It might straighten on its own. But I won’t give you false hope, Mrs. Briggs. Patching doesn’t always work.”

“It’s worth a try, though. Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nora replied. “If you do nothing, the eye will go blind.”

“Will you do it, Dr. Nora?” the woman asked. “Would you try?”

Nora opened the door wide. “I can’t make promises, but I’ll do my best. Come in.”

As Lanie Briggs crossed the threshold, joy bubbled in Nora’s heart. The seeds she’d planted were breaking through hard earth and reaching for the sun. Soon she’d have a harvest of patients. Her practice would flourish and she’d be able to stay without a salary from Zeb. One of her dreams had come true. The other—the desire for a husband and children—hung beyond her grasp.

As she stepped back into the parlor, she heard laughter coming from the Logan clan. Fighting a heaviness in her chest, Nora smiled at the little girl with the crooked eye. “Hi, Ginny. I’m Dr. Nora. I’m going to try to fix your eye, okay?”

When Ginny gave a solemn nod, Nora patted her head and prepared to go to work. It was enough. It had to be.

E
very time Clint coughed, Zeb thought of his deal with Will. The cowboy looked more peaked with each passing day. Yesterday Zeb had ordered him to go to the Circle-L and not show his face until he could talk without wheezing. Clint had gone, but this morning he’d come back. He was on the cutting floor now, getting ready for the day’s work.

If Doc Dempsey had been alive, Zeb would have hauled the cowboy to the man’s office. Doc had faltered after the tornado, but he’d done well enough with fevers. At the very least, he’d have ordered Clint to stay in bed. Dr. Mitchell could give the same advice, but Clint wouldn’t listen to her. Men didn’t respect lady doctors and never would.

Alone in his office, Zeb considered ordering the cowboy to see Dr. Nora in spite of the deal with Will. He hadn’t started up the saws yet, and the Thompsons were late delivering timber. He could do without the cowboy today, so he walked from his office to the cutting floor. The building was silent until Clint started coughing up his lungs. Zeb put his hands on his hips. “I told you to stay home.”

“Can’t stop working.” Clint headed for the keg of vegetable oil they used for lubrication.

“Hold up!” Zeb ordered.

Clint glared at him, but his expression had no force. Standing with his shoulders hunched, he looked as if every breath hurt. Not a speck of sawdust filled the air, but later the room would be awash in it. How much worse would he feel then?

“Get out of here,” Zeb said gently. “You’re as sick as a dog.”

Clint shook his head.

Zeb took another approach. “You’re a good man, Clint, but right now you’re not worth spit.” The next words pained him, but they had to be said. “Go see Dr. Mitchell.”

“No way, boss.”

Zeb wiped his hand through his hair. “I know she’s female, but she can handle a silly cough.” Anything more serious, and he’d think twice about sending his best worker.

“I don’t care about her being a woman.” Clint backhanded feverish sweat from his brow. “I have to work because I need the money.”

Zeb didn’t see why. The man worked two jobs. Will paid him a decent wage and so did Zeb. Clint didn’t waste a dime on anything. “I know you’ve been saving up. You’ve earned a day off.”

“I don’t have much time,” Clint argued. “I need every cent.”

“For what?”

Clint looked at him as if he were stupid. “She’s gonna leave with him, Zeb. I tell you, she’s—”

“You mean
Cassandra?
”

Clint’s cheeks flushed. “Who else would I do this for? I love her, but I can’t marry her until I can take care of her. And I can’t do
that
until I can buy a ring that’s
twice
the size of what Percy has in mind.”

He spat the man’s name. Zeb shared his dislike. “I see.”

“No, you don’t.”

Zeb heard an insult. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever loved a woman? I mean really
loved
her? Loved her so much it hurt to say her name?”

Instead of Frannie, he saw a redhead with blue eyes. He didn’t want to love Nora, but he did. The thought rocked him to the core. Love, like the river, couldn’t be stopped. Could he learn to respect her career? He could tolerate her seeing women and children, but how would he feel when she took off in the dead of night to care for a stranger? And what about her New York roots? She’d come to High Plains out of desperation. Would she stay no matter the cost? He didn’t know.

Clint started to pace. “Percy’s got Cassandra tied in knots. He’s nothing but a big talker, I tell you. I’d like to—” Clint sealed his lips.

“You should be talking to my sister,” Zeb replied. “Not me.”

“I’d marry her tomorrow if I could.” Clint looked as starry eyed as a moonless sky.

“What’s stopping you?”

“Money.”

Zeb saw a solution, a quick one that would save Clint’s health and keep Cassandra in High Plains. “How much to you need? I’ll loan it to you.”

Clint shook his head. “Borrowing’s not my way.”

“You’re being prideful,” Zeb insisted. “Take it.”

The cowboy’s eyes glinted with unexpected wisdom. “You’re one to talk about pride.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like Dr. Nora. So does Cassandra and everyone else. You just can’t admit you’re wrong about her.”

Zeb’s thumb throbbed. “What’s your point?”

“None, I guess.” Clint coughed. “I better get busy.”

“Forget it. I’m loaning you the money. You can pay me back later.”

“I said no.”

Zeb wanted to argue some sense into him, but he saw another way out. “I tell you what,” he said. “I’ll give you a way to earn it fast.”

“How?”

“I hear you’re the strongest man at the Circle-L.”

“That’s right.”

“At the jubilee, sign up for the arm-wrestling contest. There’s going to be a prize.”

Clint’s eyes widened. “How much?”

Zeb did some quick calculations. Clint clearly already had some saved, but he needed money for a ring, a place to live in town and a bit extra for Cassandra’s taste in clothes. “The winner’s going to walk off with twenty-five dollars. Think you can win?”

He put his hands on his hips. “You bet I can.”

Zeb saw another problem. “Do you think you can outdo Percy when it comes to romancing my sister?”

The cowboy looked sheepish. “Don’t tell anyone, but Mrs. Rebecca’s been giving me lessons in being mannerly.”

Zeb admired Clint’s effort. “That’s good.”

“She’s taught me about using a napkin and not gobbling down my food. I’ll never be a high-class man from Boston, but I know how to treat a lady.”

“I’m counting on it,” Zeb said. “Now get some rest.”

“All right, I will.” Clint indicated a saw frame, the one without a blade. It had broken, again, and Pete had repaired and delivered it late yesterday. “Before I go, how about I help you mount the blade? It’ll be ready when the crew gets here.”

“Thanks.”

Zeb and Clint put on heavy leather gloves, lifted the blade
and attached it to the frame. Zeb insisted on doing the balancing himself, then he checked the fasteners.

“Want to test it?” Clint asked.

Zeb didn’t want to keep the cowboy around, but Clint knew the millworks better than the workers scheduled for the day. “Sure. Go pull the brake.”

Clint went outside, unlocked the waterwheel and came back. With Zeb watching, the gears picked up speed and the blade spun in a perfect circle.

Satisfied, he shouted to Clint. “Shut it down, will you?”

“Sure.” The cowboy went outside to set the brake. A rattling drew Zeb’s gaze to the pivot above his head. The pivot transferred power from a horizontal shaft to the vertical one turning the blade. He looked up and saw a loose pin.

Zeb had tremendous respect for freshly honed metal, but he also knew the continued motion would cause the pivot to fly apart. The blade would wobble and possibly break. Fighting impatience, he eyed the shaking wood. With each spin of the waterwheel, the wobble increased. He looked down at the blade. The speed had slowed, but it was still spinning at a dangerous rate. As Clint came around the corner, the blade slowed enough so that Zeb could see the metal teeth in a two-toned blur. In a minute, it would come to a halt.

He set his foot on the frame. At the same instant, the pivot broke and the saw went askew. Metal sliced through his boot, then into skin and muscle. As a cry exploded from Zeb’s lips, he fell back on the floor. With a shout of his own, Clint sprinted to his side.

Blood ran from the gash in the boot. Dark and sticky, it soaked Zeb’s pant leg and formed a maroon pool. He tried to wiggle his toes and felt only searing pain. With each beat of his heart, blood poured from the gash, widening the puddle into
a circle. If he didn’t get help, he’d die. He’d bleed out on the floor of the mill.

Clint yanked off his shirt, ripped off a sleeve and tied it above Zeb’s knee. The gush turned to a trickle, but Zeb was already light-headed.

Clint’s face turned from feverish to ashen. “We’ve got to get you to Dr. Nora.”

Zeb tried to sit up, but the room spun in a crazy mix of black and white, the same color as the debris-filled wind of the tornado. Fighting to stay conscious, he sucked in air. As his stomach rebelled, he shouted a curse. Of all the foolish things…A cry exploded in his mind.
Why, God? What more do You want from me?
He wanted to shake his fist at the Almighty. Instead, he felt Clint’s strong hands hoisting him upright and balancing him on his good leg.

Clint half carried, half dragged Zeb into the yard where he’d left his horse. He put Zeb’s good foot in the stirrup, hoisted him on to the gelding, jumped up behind him and gave the horse free rein. With each stride, Zeb felt more light-headed. Shock faded to unbearable pain and he moaned like a baby. The cry destroyed the last of his pride. He no longer cared about Dr. Nora Mitchell’s gender. He just wanted to keep his leg.

“Doc!”

Nora didn’t recognize the male voice bellowing in the yard, but she knew terror when she heard it. Dropping the bandage she’d been rolling, she hurried out the front door. In the yard she saw Clint on the far side of a black horse, but she couldn’t see who he’d hauled from the saddle until she rounded the horse’s rump.

“Zeb!” she cried. “What happened?”

“He’s cut,” Clint answered. “A blade clipped him below the knee.”

Nora looked down and saw the tourniquet, Zeb’s flapping boot and the bloody pant leg. “Get him inside,” she ordered.

She sounded in control, but her thoughts buzzed like a swarm of frightened bees. This was Zeb—the man she was starting to love, the man who didn’t trust her to remove a splinter. When Clint sagged beneath his weight, Nora wedged herself under his other shoulder. As she took his weight, he moaned through gritted teeth. Together she and Clint carried him into the house.

As they thudded into the parlor, Carolina burst out of the kitchen. “What happened?”

“He’s cut.” Nora clipped the words.

Carolina flung back the curtain to the exam room. With the nurse’s help, Nora and Clint maneuvered Zeb onto the exam table. He tried to stifle a moan, but it came out in a hiss through his clenched teeth. Carolina looked to Nora for direction. Nora looked at Zeb’s leg. The tourniquet seemed to be holding.

She touched his cheek. “I have to remove your boot. Do you want laudanum?”

“Not now.” His body tensed against the table. “I want to know what’s happening.”

They both understood the magnitude of the injury. If the saw had severed tendons and arteries, he’d lose the leg now. If the blade stopped short of the bone, he’d be in for a battle against infection. Carolina retrieved the amputation kit from the cupboard. Nora prayed she wouldn’t have to use it.

She took a knife, slit the boot from top to bottom and removed it as gently as she could. Pain hissed through Zeb’s teeth, but he didn’t cry out. As she dropped the boot to the floor, Clint shuddered. Nora had forgotten about him. He looked helpless, pale and flushed. She aimed her chin at the door. “Go get Cassandra.”

“No!” Zeb said. “I don’t want her here.”

Nora stood over him, matching her eyes to his. “I might have to make a hard decision. If you pass out, I want her here.”

Clint took off like a rifle shot.

Zeb shook his head. “No—”

“Yes.” Nora clamped his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. Tears sprung to her eyes. Of all the tests she’d faced as a doctor, this one pushed her to the edge of her faith in a loving God.

“Listen to me, Zeb.” She kept her voice steady, but her heart was fluttering like a trapped bird. “I haven’t seen the leg yet. We might be able to save it, but—”

“Save it,” he muttered. “Please.”

The plea tore at her heart. “I’m going to try, but if it’s impossible—if the bone is broken and the arteries are severed—I’m going to save your life instead.”

She waited for a nod of agreement. Instead, he looked into her eyes, then touched her hand with his. “I lost the deal with Will, didn’t I?”

Nora smiled through a haze of tears. “If you can make a joke at a time like this, you’re going to be fine.”

His eyes drifted shut. “Don’t do it, Nora. Not yet.”

“I might not have to,” she answered. “I have to clean the wound to see the damage.”

Zeb clenched his jaw, then nodded.

Nora and Carolina blotted blood with white rags. Red stains bloomed like roses. Zeb groaned, but he didn’t thrash. Nora had to admire his self-control. Other men would have cursed and kicked. When she finished cleaning the wound, she forgot everything except her anatomy class.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

The blade had cut an inch into the side of his calf, closer to
the knee than the ankle. Mercifully it had missed the Achilles tendon and the tibial nerve and artery. If he survived the inevitable infection, Zeb would walk again. Healing would take time and he might have a limp, but for now she had hope. “The cut’s deep,” she told him. “But it doesn’t go to the bone.”

Zeb panted for breath. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So you don’t have to…amputate.”

“Not yet,” she said quietly. “But we both know what lies ahead.” Infection would set in. He’d grow feverish and the wound would fester. He’d be at risk for blood poisoning. If the infection spread, she’d have to cut off his leg.

She looked into Zeb’s eyes. His pupils, dilated with pain, turned his green irises into narrow bands. She prayed she wouldn’t have to amputate his leg. Zeb would never be the same.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the corners of her mouth turned down with suppressed tears. Zeb touched her cheek. “Cheer up, Doc. You’re going to save my leg.”

The words of respect should have thrilled her. Instead, she felt the burden of truth. The odds were against them. If she waited too long to amputate, Zeb would die. If she took off the leg to save his life, would he still trust her? She doubted it. She took his hand and squeezed. He had a long, painful journey ahead of him, one that could still end in tragedy. “Close your eyes,” she said. “I’m going to sew up your leg.”

As trusting as a child, he obeyed. Nora went to work with a needle threaded with catgut. As she sutured muscle to muscle and skin to skin, she heard Alex on the porch. Aware of Zeb’s injury, he told everyone who came to see her about the accident. Within an hour, all of High Plains knew Zeb had been seriously injured and could lose his leg.