The Bride's Prerogative (51 page)

“Did you know Rose was baking cookies for the doctor?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Smelled something good.”

“Well, she’s given up on Griffin. Says he smells like the barn. Now she’s after Doc Kincaid.”

“Maybe we should warn him.”

Trudy cracked a smile. “Do we want to? Maybe she’ll have a better chance with him. Griffin’s too down-to-earth for her. He sees through hypocrisy every time.”

Hiram sighed. “I was hoping to get a few of those cookies without any obligations attached.”

“I doubt you will. Though she’s baked a pile of them.”

“Maybe she’ll give them to more than one fella and see who comes back for more.”

They both laughed.

Trudy cocked her head to one side. “How are you doing? Really?”

“All right. I feel a mite guilty.”

“Whatever for?”

He shrugged. “Seems like a gentleman ought to offer her his protection.”

“Oh Hiram. That’s no reason to get married. Not when she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

“Well, I hope she snares a man soon and moves out of our house. Can’t help it. I feel all kinds of sinful to think it—especially since Griff and the doctor are both nice people.”

Trudy had to admit she also felt twinges of remorse for her ill feelings toward Rose. “I’m surprised she came all the way out here looking for a husband. Wasn’t there anyone back home she could have married?”

“Don’t know. She doesn’t talk about Albert much.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Trudy wondered about Rose’s dead husband. Neither she nor Hiram had ever met him, but Trudy couldn’t imagine he’d had any backbone.

“Why are we trying to push her off on our friends?” Hiram asked.

“So she’ll leave you alone.”

“Yes, but … isn’t it wrong of us to wish her on someone else?”

“Maybe so.” Trudy sighed. “You know, she can cook and keep house when she wants to. Maybe you ought to consider keeping her on as your housekeeper.”

“You mean when you and Ethan get married?”

She could see that her brother was troubled. Hiram hated change. But if she did marry Ethan, he’d have to deal with it.

“I’d rather live alone than with Rose,” he said. “Besides, that wouldn’t be proper. I’m sorry if it’s a sin to dislike her so much. I’ve been praying for her and that God will change my feelings if He wants me to marry her.”

She stared at him in horror. “You mean you’ve actually thought about it?”

“Only as a—what would Pastor call it? A spiritual exercise.”

“I see.”

“Have you?”

“Not really. But I should probably be praying, too. She’s nothing at all like her sister was, though she bears a passing resemblance to her. Violet was sweet and kind. Whenever Rose says something mean, it makes me so mad I could slap her.”

“I don’t think I could stand to live alone with her, and that’s the truth.”

Trudy nodded. She could easily gauge his agitation by the amount he had spoken that evening. He never talked more than was needful.

“I’m sorry you’re in this situation. And I don’t think God will blame you for not wanting to marry her. It’d be different if her heart was softer.”

“She so talkative.” His eyes pleaded with her to forgive him.

Trudy lifted her arms and hugged him. “I know she’s not right for you. It’s obvious. And it’s all right. You don’t need to feel bad. If you ever do want to get married again, I know you’ll choose a quiet, genteel woman.”

Hiram exhaled heavily and gave her a squeeze before backing away. She wondered if he would ever get to the point where he’d consider taking a wife again. There had been fleeting moments when she’d wondered, like the short time they’d sat together with Ethan and Libby after Bitsy’s wedding. Hiram and Libby had talked and smiled and seemed to get along perfectly. Yet she couldn’t imagine him going courting. If she knew her brother as well as she thought she did, he viewed himself as beneath Libby socially and perhaps intellectually, which was too bad. Hiram was a smart man. A near genius where mechanical things were concerned.

She patted his shoulder. “I’m going to the root cellar for carrots.”

“I can get ‘em for you.”

“Thanks. I hope there’s enough for supper. I know they’re ‘most gone.”

“Trudy …”

“Yes?”

He looked away for a second. “You know I think a lot of you. I’m glad you’ve been here with me all this time.”

Her heart warmed. “Thank you for saying that. I’ll miss you if … well, if Ethan ever proves up.”

He nodded. As usual, she felt they understood one another perfectly.

CHAPTER 21

L
ibby smiled as Bitsy and Augie entered the mayor’s parlor on Friday afternoon. She patted the settee beside her. Bitsy glanced at the men who made up the rest of the gathering and took the seat next to Libby. Augie settled in the chair beside the settee.

“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Moore,” Peter Nash said. “We’re pleased that you could join us today. As you can see, we’ve invited all the town’s leading business owners to help the council decide on a matter that’s been hanging for nearly a year now—that of Dr. Kincaid’s situation.”

Charles Walker, Maitland Dostie, Ethan, Griffin, the Reverend Mr. Benton, and Ted Hire, along with council members Libby, Cyrus, Oscar Runnels, and Zachary Harper, completed the group. Ellie Nash entered bearing a tray of mismatched mugs and teacups. She circulated, allowing each guest to choose coffee or tea.

Libby accepted a pretty, violet-sprigged cup of black tea, and Bitsy followed her lead, still darting nervous glances at various members of the gathering.

“Dr. Kincaid will join us in about a half hour,” the mayor went on. “That is, provided he doesn’t get an emergency call. I thought that would give us time to discuss a few things before he gets here.”

“Is there a problem?” asked Maitland, the telegraph operator.

“The doc isn’t happy with his living situation,” Peter said.

“He’s perfectly comfortable at the Fennel House.”

Cyrus’s defensive comment drew a sigh from Bitsy. Libby half-expected her to speak up, but for once she withheld her usually frank opinion.

“I’m sure he is, but he’d like a more permanent arrangement.” Peter looked around at the others. “What happened is this: A citizen of our town, who is now deceased, invited Dr. Kincaid to come and practice in Fergus. We’re glad he did, but the promises Mr. Morrell made to the doctor had not been approved by the town council, and we found them to be a bit extravagant.”

“Just what did he promise?” Oscar asked. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a cigar. He glanced over at the ladies, as though suddenly remembering their presence. Libby frowned at him, and for once, Oscar took the hint and put his cigar back without lighting it.

Peter lifted a sheet of paper. “The doctor was kind enough to loan me the actual letter he received. In it, Morrell promised him a house, rent-free, in town, along with a horse and buggy to be maintained gratis at the livery stable”—at this, Griffin scowled fiercely—“and medical supplies to be shipped in regularly from Boise at no charge to the doctor.”

“The town can’t afford all that.” Charles Walker spoke for the first time, his voice higher and thinner even than it had been before his grave injury the summer before.

“No, we can’t, and it’s not reasonable.” Peter folded the letter and laid it aside. “No other physician would expect such benefits. I’ve discussed this with Dr. Kincaid, and he understands. However, he doesn’t feel he can open an office and stock the supplies he’ll need without some help from the town. So far he’s been operating from the boardinghouse, going to his patients whenever he’s called upon.”

“But we’re paying his board and room for him,” Bitsy said.

Cyrus leaned forward. “Correction. The town is paying for his board. He’s getting his room at the Fennel House free, which doesn’t help me much in paying the couple who are running the place.”

“But surely it’s good advertising,” Libby said. “Folks must feel safer staying there with a doctor in the house.”

“Yes,” said Ethan. “I expect the doc lends the place an air of respectability.”

No one mentioned the boardinghouse’s proximity to the Nugget saloon, but Ted Hire, who currently managed the place, sank a little lower in his chair.

The minister cleared his throat. “If I might make a suggestion, Mr. Mayor.”

“Of course, Reverend.”

“There are several vacant buildings on Main Street and Gold Lane, mostly owned by Mr. Fennel.” He nodded deferentially at Cyrus. “Mr. Fennel made my wife and me an offer last year. We lived rent free in one of his houses for six months. During that time, the church began to pay me a salary. Apphia and I sought the Lord’s direction. At the end of the six months, we approached Mr. Fennel about buying the house. We reached a satisfactory agreement with payments we can afford. Perhaps he would like to extend a similar offer to the doctor.”

“I don’t know how much income he has,” Libby said. “Some folks pay him in foodstuffs.” She didn’t reveal how Kincaid had come to her asking if she could take two bushels of dried corn off his hands and apply the value to the account he’d run up at the emporium for medical supplies and sundries.

“And besides,” Cyrus added, “I’ve already given him ten months’ free rent at the Fennel House. I can’t see extending it any longer.”

“Hmm.” Peter looked around at all of them. “Perhaps the town could afford to pay Mr. Fennel a reasonable rent on a house for the doctor. Then he could set up his office and take patients there, as well as have more private living quarters. I’m afraid we’ll lose him if we don’t resolve the issue soon.”

“I’m sure the church members would help fix up the house, as they helped us with ours,” Mr. Benton said.

Griffin straightened his shoulders. “I can let him use one of my wagons, and I can make him a good deal on a horse if he wants to buy one. Can’t just give him one. I mean, they cost money. So does feed. But if he wants to arrange payments or something, I’ll work with him. He’s a good doctor, and I think we should do all we can to keep him here.”

“I agree,” Bitsy said. “Augie and I can pitch in a few extra dollars, can’t we?” She looked to her new husband.

He nodded. “Guess so.”

“Donations would help,” Peter said, “but if it’s to be a regular thing, we really ought to make it part of the town’s budget.”

Oscar laughed. “What’s that? We’ve never had a budget.”

“Certainly we have.” Zack shook a finger toward his neighbor. “Just because we never wrote it down, don’t mean we don’t have one. We always collect taxes for the sheriff’s pay and things like that. So, we add a dollar or two to each family’s yearly bill to help the doctor out until his practice becomes more profitable.”

Libby stirred. “Mr. Mayor, I think Mr. Runnels has a point. The town council hasn’t kept the best records of its meetings, and we generally collect money until we have enough to pay our bills, but it really should be better organized.”

“Are you volunteering, ma’am?” Peter’s eyes twinkled as he spoke.

Libby smiled with gritted teeth. “I’ll take part of the responsibility, but not all. I could keep official minutes at the meetings, for instance. But we really should keep precise records on how much is collected from whom and how it is spent.”

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Cyrus said.

“Well then, Mr. Fennel, would you set up a ledger for the town’s local tax collection and distribution?”

“I wasn’t volunteering.”

Everyone stared at Cyrus.

“Oh all right.” He shrugged. “Someone’s got to do it, I suppose. Perhaps Mrs. Adams will assist me, to make certain I set the accounts up properly.”

His suggestion surprised Libby. She’d thought she’d successfully discouraged his advances, and she had no desire to spend time alone with him. “Really, you ought to be able to do it without my help. You ran the assay office for some time, and now you run the stagecoach line. You must keep books for that and report to Wells Fargo.”

Cyrus didn’t look happy, but in the end, he agreed to set up the town’s ledger.

Peter nodded at him. “That’s the way, Mr. Fennel. Your labor in this matter will be greatly appreciated.” He took out his pocket watch. “The doctor should be here soon, and we’ll present this plan to him. Any other business to discuss while we wait?”

“Mr. Fennel,” said the minister, “yesterday I rode out to that ranch you have northeast of town.”

Cyrus’s eyes flared, and he waited in silence.

“I met Mr. Smith, your tenant.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’d heard you had a gentleman living out there and working the ranch. I invited him and his employees to the church services.”

“What did he say?” Cyrus asked.

“He said he might come, but truthfully, he didn’t sound committed to the idea. He also warned me not to expect his men, as they’re busy stringing fence.”

Libby listened with interest. That must be where the rolls of barbed wire Cyrus had ordered went.

“We have a lot of newcomers in town,” Griffin noted.

“Yes, we do.” Mr. Benton smiled. “My wife suggested we have a social event to bring folks together. A box social, perhaps.”

“That sounds like fun,” Libby said. “I’m sure the Ladies’ Shooting Club would support the event.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Adams. I’ll ask Apphia to speak with you about it.” The minister beamed at her. “Social gatherings now and then can draw the community together.”

Bitsy looked askance at Libby. “I’m not sure you’d want Mr. Smith’s cowhands to go to it. They might make a ruckus.”

Ethan frowned. “So long as we make sure no alcohol is served, the whole town could enjoy a holiday. We could stipulate that it’s a dry party when we announce it.”

“We’d lose a workday,” Zack noted.

“Yes, but we’d get to know some of these new people.” Mr. Benton’s face lit as he named them off. “There’s Dr. Kincaid and Mrs. Caplinger, who tells me she’s thinking of locating here permanently, and a new couple out on the Colburn place and Mr. Smith and his men. There may be others I’m forgetting.”

“The Thistles,” Libby said. “They came last summer.”

“Yes, and we don’t have many social occasions when it comes down to it,” Peter said. “Folks enjoyed the Moores’ wedding so much, I think they’d welcome another chance to get together without waiting for a funeral.”

Bitsy’s cheeks reddened deeper than her rouge accounted for. “I’ll help Miz Adams and the other women, Mayor. Just tell us what you want, and we’ll arrange the refreshments and such.”

A sudden thought came to Libby. “Say, what if we made this into a fund-raiser to help support Dr. Kincaid?”

After a moment’s silence, Peter said, “Mrs. Adams, that’s brilliant.”

Ethan grinned at him. “Mayor, if you want someone to be sure everyone in town gets an invitation, I highly recommend the Ladies’ Shooting Club. They helped me write some letters about the Peart property a couple of weeks ago.”

“What did you find out about that?” Griffin asked.

“Nothing much yet.”

Ellie Nash opened the parlor door. “Excuse me, folks. The doctor’s here. Are you ready for him?”

Dr. Kincaid entered, and the discussion returned to his living quarters. By that time, Cyrus had accepted the idea of putting the physician in one of his vacant houses, even if he received a miniscule rent.
Better than nothing
, Libby thought.
He can always raise the rent when the doctor’s practice prospers
.

Isabel opened the oven to check on the chicken. Papa was late for supper. He’d had that meeting with the council and business owners this afternoon, but surely that was finished by now. She poured a little water in the roasting pan to keep the chicken from drying out.

A knock at the front door startled her. She doffed her apron and hurried down the hall. She pulled the door open and stared into feral dark eyes. If asked, she’d have said Kenton Smith was the one person she least wanted to see, yet she couldn’t deny the relief that washed over her when she found him waiting on the stoop.