With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel (28 page)

“You’ll just have to wait and see. She doesn’t know I’m planning this. It didn’t seem right to say anything until I was free. That’s why I’m in a hurry.” Nelson leaned forward. “I’ll pay you extra to rush the divorce.” He looked like a young boy, counting the days until school ended.

Jason shook his head. “There’s no extra charge. I’ll have the draft for you at the beginning of next week.”

And maybe then he’d learn who’d caught Nelson’s eye. Jason could only hope that it wasn’t another young woman who cared more for Nelson’s money than for him.

“I’m home, Gwen.” Elizabeth smiled as she hung her cloak on a hook near the doorway. As usual, Jason had accompanied her from her office. It had become part of their daily routine, and though she couldn’t speak for Jason, it was the best part of Elizabeth’s day. They’d walk and talk and enjoy their time together. One day when it had rained, he’d held an
umbrella over them both. It was a simple act, nothing more than a courteous gesture, but it had made her feel cherished and protected. And that feeling, that wonderful feeling, had turned an ordinary day into something extraordinary.

It wasn’t courtship, though. Elizabeth knew that. If Jason had wanted to court her, he would have told her of his intentions, asking her permission. But he had not. That meant it was something else. For want of a better word, she continued to call it friendship. An unusual friendship, to be sure. A friendship that included kisses and touches.

Today Jason had come to her office a few minutes earlier than usual and had helped her don her cloak. A month ago Elizabeth might have thought it was her imagination, but there was no doubt. His fingers had lingered on her face, caressing her cheek. The memory of the warmth they’d engendered still coursed through her veins, raising the question of his intentions. If he wasn’t courting her—and she did not believe he was—why was he so attentive, so loving?

“Gwen?” Elizabeth dragged her thoughts back to the present. If Charlotte or Abigail were here, she might have asked them, but there was only Gwen, and Elizabeth already knew Gwen’s views on the subject. The woman heard wedding bells every time the wind blew.

Where was she? Though Rose was playing in the parlor, Gwen was not in the kitchen, and there were no signs of supper preparations.

Looking up from the doll she’d been dressing, Rose said, “Mama’s in the bedroom. I think she’s sick.”

Gwen was never ill. At least she hadn’t been since Elizabeth had moved into the apartment. When Elizabeth had arrived, Gwen had welcomed her as both a friend and a doctor, though
she’d boasted that she rarely needed the latter. Today was different. Concerned that her friend might have contracted something serious, Elizabeth rushed to the room Gwen shared with her daughter.

Elizabeth’s worries increased when she saw that Gwen lay on the bed, fully clothed. She hadn’t even removed her shoes, though the blacking would stain the quilt. That alone was cause for alarm, but there was also the stench. If she hadn’t known better, Elizabeth would have said that Gwen had been drinking whiskey. That was improbable. There were no strong spirits in the apartment, and even if there were, Gwen would not have drunk them. She’d once told Elizabeth that liquor would never cross her lips. There had to be another explanation for the sour smell.

“What’s wrong, Gwen? Are you ill?” Elizabeth approached the bed, recoiling slightly when she realized that the foul odor was emanating from her friend.

Gwen placed her hands on the bed and struggled to a sitting position. Her head lolled to one side before she made a visible effort to straighten it. “Nothin’s wrong. I jush . . . just,” she corrected herself, “took a little nap.” There was no ignoring the fact that Gwen’s words were slurred. “My head felt like it was going to esplode.” She shook her head, wincing at the motion. “No, that’s not right. Esp . . . exp. That’s it. Explode.” The silly smile that accompanied her word erased the last fragment of doubt. Gwen was drunk.

“What happened, Gwen? Where did you get the whiskey?”
And why did you drink
it?
Elizabeth wouldn’t ask that now. First she needed Gwen to be sober.

“Whiskey? I don’t drink whiskey. You know that.” The words were so slurred that Elizabeth could barely understand them.

“Then what have you been drinking?”

“Jush my medicine.” Gwen waved a hand toward her bureau. Elizabeth’s heart sank when she saw three blue bottles lying on their sides, two standing next to them. Though the labels looked familiar, she walked to the bureau to confirm what she feared.

“Patent medicine.” And one of the worst. On the day when he’d delivered a diatribe about the potential dangers of patent medicine, Elizabeth’s professor had used Lady Meecham’s Celebrated Vegetable Compound as an example. “It does no good,” he’d declared, “but it can do definite harm, especially if ingested in any quantity.” Judging from the empty bottles and her condition, Gwen had done that.

“Oh, Gwen, why did you drink it?”

Gwen held her head in both hands, her lips twisted into a grimace. “I’m fat,” she said. “No man would ever look at a ball of lard like me. I had to do shom . . . something.”

Elizabeth wondered how long her friend had been trying to lose weight. The only time Elizabeth had been aware of Gwen eating less had been the picnic at Minnehaha Park, but it was unlikely that had been the beginning. She must have been clever and had reduced the size of her portions at home. Though she never finished before Elizabeth and Harrison, Gwen could have been eating slowly. There would have been no reason for Elizabeth to notice that, just as she had not noticed smaller serving sizes.

Elizabeth sighed. The combination of little food and an increased dose of patent medicine with its high alcohol content would explain Gwen’s current state.

“You’ve got to stop,” she said firmly. “Don’t you know, patent medicines can kill you?”

Gwen looked up, her expression as contrite as a naughty child’s. “Truly?”

“Truly. It’s dangerous.”

“But it sheems . . . seems to be working. My clothes are looser.” Gwen tugged on her waistband, showing Elizabeth that it was no longer straining at the buttons.

“That’s because you’re eating less, not because of that awful concoction.” Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of what Gwen had ingested. “You need to trust me, Gwen. You should not be drinking Lady Meecham’s or any other tonic.”

“Could it really kill me?” Though her eyes were bleary, there was no disguising the fear in them.

“It could.”

There was a moment of silence as the words penetrated Gwen’s clouded brain. “If I died, what would Rose do?” Gwen began to sob. “I can’t leave my baby all alone.”

“That’s why I’m going to throw the rest of these away.” Elizabeth picked up the two unopened bottles. “Rose needs you, and so do I.”

Though Gwen gasped, perhaps appalled by the thought of the money she’d wasted, she nodded. “All right. I’ll find another way to be thin.”

“I’ll help you,” Elizabeth promised. She would do more than that. She would watch Gwen carefully. Some doctor she’d proven to be! She hadn’t even noticed potentially dangerous changes in her friend’s behavior. She’d been so caught up in her own life, in the wonder of Jason, that she had paid scant attention to Gwen. That would stop. Immediately.

 19 

E
lizabeth quickened her pace, knowing she was a few minutes later than normal this morning. For the first time since she’d arrived in Cheyenne, she had made breakfast. Gwen had offered to do it, but Elizabeth hadn’t needed a medical degree to see that her friend was in no condition to cook. Gwen admitted that her head hurt, and she complained of her stomach feeling queasy. Both were understandable, considering the quantity of alcohol she had consumed. What concerned Elizabeth more was Gwen’s mood. Though she clung to Rose and refused to let her out of her sight, she would barely look at Elizabeth. If Elizabeth had had to diagnose the cause, she would have said shame. And that shame, she suspected, was greater because Elizabeth was her friend as well as her doctor.

Elizabeth’s professors had warned their students about the dangers of physicians treating their own family, pointing out that it was difficult to maintain objectivity when dealing
with loved ones. They had not, however, mentioned patients’ potential reaction.

Elizabeth shook her head as she crossed Capitol Avenue. One more block, and she’d be at her office. And, if her prayers were answered, Gwen would realize that she didn’t need Lady Meecham’s or any other tonic.

Her fear that Harrison did not find her attractive had no foundation. Every time he looked at Gwen, the man appeared smitten, but either Gwen did not notice his occasionally lovelorn expression or she refused to believe that she was the object. Harrison had obviously wanted time alone with Gwen at the park, but it appeared that whatever they had discussed while they’d strolled around the lake had not allayed Gwen’s worries. If only those two would admit their feelings. Surely that would resolve Gwen’s concerns and keep her from buying another bottle of tonic.

Gwen had vowed that she wouldn’t drink anymore, and Elizabeth knew she was serious when she made that resolution, but whether she could adhere to it was questionable. The manufacturers were clever when they concocted their so-called remedies. The high alcohol content dulled pain and created the illusion that the medicine was healing the patient’s ailment. That very same high alcohol content also encouraged dependence. That was good for sales of the patent medicine, but it was most definitely not good for those duped into drinking it. Though Elizabeth hoped Gwen would be strong enough to withstand the siren’s call of the bottle, she was realistic enough to know that she could not stop her friend. All she could do was pray that Gwen had the strength she needed.

Elizabeth smiled as she rounded the corner onto Central,
knowing the buildings would block the wind for the final yards to her office. She could tell that a few tendrils of hair had come loose, but a minute in front of the mirror she kept in her kitchen would remedy that. By the time her first patient arrived, she would once more be well-groomed.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at the sight of a carriage parked in front of her office. When she recognized it, her pulse accelerated. There was no mistaking the Eberhardts’ buggy, but Miriam wasn’t scheduled for an appointment this morning. Elizabeth practically ran the short distance to the carriage.

“You’ve got to come.” Delia leaned out, her lips pursed with worry. “Miss Miriam needs you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s bleeding, Doctor. I’m mighty worried.”

So was Elizabeth. Bleeding was never a good sign, and it was particularly worrisome during pregnancy. Miriam’s baby wasn’t due for more than two months. If she delivered now, chances of the infant’s survival were not good. “When did the bleeding start?”

“Less than an hour ago.”

At least Miriam hadn’t been losing blood all night. As quickly as she could, Elizabeth unlocked the door to her office. When she had packed everything she might need for a delivery, she returned to the carriage and climbed in next to Delia. “You could have gone to my home. That would have saved a few minutes.”

“I did,” Delia replied. “You’d already left. Mrs. Amos wasn’t sure which way you were walking, so I had Roscoe bring me right here. When I saw that your door was still locked, I checked with Mr. Nordling. He said you were usually in your office by now.”

Most days she was, but today Elizabeth’s worries about Gwen had kept her home later than normal. She could only hope that the delay had not harmed Miriam.

Within minutes, Roscoe had parked the buggy in front of Maple Terrace and ushered Elizabeth inside. As she hurried up the stairs to Miriam’s room, Elizabeth couldn’t help remembering the first time she’d been summoned here. Then her patient had had diphtheria. Today could be equally dangerous.

Elizabeth gave a perfunctory knock on the door before entering. When she was inside, she kept her expression calm.

“What’s this I hear about bleeding?”

“Oh, Doctor, I’m so scared.” Miriam’s pallor and the trembling of her hands underscored her fears.

“It may not be serious. Some women experience this occasionally.” But a quick examination revealed that Elizabeth’s optimism was misplaced. Miriam’s bleeding was cause for concern, particularly when Elizabeth could not find the source. With nothing to clamp or suture, all she could do was try to stanch the flow.

“My baby. Is my baby going to be all right?”

Though she wanted to assure the expectant mother that everything would be fine, Elizabeth could not. She settled for telling her the truth. “I’ll do my best. I’m encouraged by the fact that you’re not having contractions. The longer your baby remains in the womb, the better for both of you.” Miriam’s pulse was thready, but that was to be expected, given the loss of blood and her fears. “Your baby’s heartbeat is regular.” Elizabeth wouldn’t mention that it was fainter than she would have liked. “Now all we have to worry about is stopping the bleeding.”

It took longer than Elizabeth had hoped, but eventually the flow ceased.

“What caused it?” Miriam asked when Elizabeth assured her that she and the baby were no longer in danger.

“I’m not sure.” How Elizabeth hated admitting that! “There’s still much we don’t know about the human body, especially women’s bodies. What I do know is that you’ve lost a lot of blood. You need to regain your strength.” Miriam nodded slowly, her green eyes solemn as she regarded Elizabeth. “I want you to stay in bed until the baby is born,” Elizabeth continued. When Miriam started to protest, Elizabeth held up her hand. “I know you’ve probably planned to attend parties and other gatherings, particularly as we get closer to Christmas, but I’m afraid they’d be dangerous. You should not exert yourself at all, and you most definitely should not climb stairs.”

Miriam closed her eyes for a second, making Elizabeth wonder if she was trying to stop tears from falling. “My parents will be upset,” she said. “Their Christmas Eve party is the highlight of the season, and I know they wanted Richard and me to be there. I hate disappointing them.”

Elizabeth suspected it was Amelia Taggert’s disappointment and possible disapproval that Miriam feared. The few times she’d met him, Cyrus Taggert had impressed Elizabeth as a rational man and a doting father who’d put his daughter’s health above all else.

“Your baby’s life and yours are at stake,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Surely that’s more important than a party.”

“You’re right.” Nodding slowly, Miriam extended her hand. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll do as you said.”

Jason was whistling when he left Mr. Ellis’s shop. Though he had had little opportunity to sample the confections that were reputed to be as delicious as the baked goods he and Elizabeth enjoyed, Jason had just purchased a box of candy for her. He smiled as he looked down at the box with its jaunty ribbon, hoping Elizabeth would be pleased by the gift. Flowers, books, and candy, he’d been told, were suitable items for a man to give the woman he was courting.

There were few flowers in Cheyenne at this season, and Jason knew Elizabeth had little time to read. That left him with one choice: candy. And, judging from the relish with which she ate dessert, he suspected it would be a welcome gift. Though he was tempted to take it to her right now, Jason had decided not to give it to her at the office. Perhaps it was foolish, but the candy wasn’t for Elizabeth the doctor. He’d bought it for Elizabeth the woman. While he wasn’t certain she saw the distinction, he did. Though he’d begun this temporary courtship to help Elizabeth the doctor, it had been Elizabeth the woman he’d kissed, and it was Elizabeth the woman who haunted his thoughts.

Half an hour later Kevin Granger’s voice interrupted Jason’s perusal of the divorce papers he was drafting for Nelson Chadwick.

“Do you have a moment, Jason?”

“I always have time for you,” he answered with a broad smile. The widower was one of Jason’s favorite clients, a man he wouldn’t mind having as a friend. “Come in.”

Kevin stretched his long legs out in front of him as he settled into the chair Jason had indicated. “I was in town getting some supplies and I figured I should let you know that I’ve been thinking about what you said. It was good advice.”

“What advice was that?” Though they’d discussed a wide range of subjects in the two times they’d met, the only advice Jason could recall offering was that Kevin should name a guardian for his daughters.

“You told me children need two parents and that housekeepers are poor substitutes for a mother.”

Jason nodded as he remembered how didactic he’d been that day. “I didn’t mean to preach at you.”

“I reckon you come by that naturally.” Kevin shot a wry smile at Jason. “I don’t mind admitting that at first I was kinda riled by the idea of marrying again. No one can take Ruby’s place, and it irked me that you’d suggest it. But then I realized you weren’t saying that I should replace her. A new woman—a new wife—wouldn’t take Ruby’s spot in my heart. She’d have her own.”

That was what he had meant, though Jason wasn’t certain his words had been as eloquent. As he recalled, he’d been a bit pompous, certain he knew better than Kevin how children should be raised. The day he’d gone to the ranch had shown Jason just how wrong he’d been. Kevin knew far more than he did about what children needed, and—more importantly—he was giving it to them. Jason doubted any of Kevin’s daughters would ever question her father’s love. “It sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.”

Kevin shrugged. “The first steps, anyway. I hired a man to help with the sheep so I’d have more time with the girls, and I took them to church on Sunday. You were right again. Folks welcomed us.” Kevin grinned at the memory. “A couple of the ladies were especially welcoming. One of them, a widow lady with a boy of her own, invited us to supper this week. She’s watching the girls right now.”

It was a beginning. A good beginning. The fact that Kevin had opened his heart and mind to the idea of a second wife so quickly was more than Jason had hoped for. “I’m glad for all of you.”

“There’s no tellin’ how it’ll work out, but it’s a start. I’m mighty obliged to you for the advice.”

“I’m glad I could help.” The truth was, all he’d done was plant seeds. Kevin had nurtured them.

Kevin leaned forward, his smile turning into a conspiratorial grin. “I’m gonna give you some advice in return. You oughta find yourself a gal of your own. There’s nothing like the love of a good woman to make a man’s life complete.”