The Best Medicine #2
“You are not to worry about that, Miss Higgins.” Bessy’s head whipped up at the sound of the new voice. She would have recognized the deep, commanding voice anywhere, but she still had to look to make sure.
“Master Thornton? What’re ye doin’ here?” And hoo be that ‘andsome man next t’ yo? she wanted to ask.
“Mister Thornton is the one who thought of bringing a doctor to you, Bessy,” Margaret said brusquely, adjusting the pillows behind her. “This is Mr. Lawson. He was trained in town, and he might have some new ideas of how to rid your lungs of the white fluff.”
“Now I know I’m a’dyin,’” Bessy commented as she re-adjusted her bed covers.
She ran weak fingers through her thin hair, trying to make herself presentable.
“They say the dyin’ have strange dreams just afore the end.
But I never thought I’d have a dream as strange as seein’ Master Thornton in me own ‘ouse!”
“What do you think, Lawson?” Thornton asked his friend some time later, after Lawson had examined Bessy, asked numerous questions, and taken careful notes in a little book he carried inside his jacket. Margaret remained with Bessy as the two men began to walk back to Marlboro Mills.
Lawson peered up at him, his shorter strides struggling to keep up with Thornton’s quick pace. “What does that girl mean to you, Thornton?”
Thornton shrugged. “Miss Higgins? She is a worker, or she was until she became ill. Her father is one of the strike organizers, but I never met her before today.”
“You know that is not who I meant, Thornton. What is your relationship with Miss Hale?”
“We have no relationship,” Thornton answered immediately, and scowled.
“You volunteered to pay the costs of her friend’s medical care without even being asked,” Lawson pointed out.
“This is not something I wish to discuss.” Thornton’s scowl deepened.
Lawson could not help giving a little chuckle. “So that is how the land lies! You are attracted to her but she does not care for you. You asked me to help one woman in order to impress another.” He shook his head. “You are far gone, my friend.”
Thornton did not change expression, but Lawson knew he had surmised correctly.
In his profession, he was accustomed to observing symptoms, finding a pattern, and quickly confirming a diagnosis.
In this case, he already knew what bothered the other man: severe lovesickness.
Unfortunately, this was one illness for which he had no medicine.
They continued to walk together in silence.
“Just tell me if you can cure the girl, Lawson,” Thornton finally growled.
“It is not an easy case,” Lawson answered, his mind instantly returning to the frail girl with the strong spirit.
“The fluff has worked completely into her lungs, and the disease is far advanced. Without proper treatment, she will die. But my mentor in town has had success in treating several of these cases. I am going to come back tomorrow with medicine and a treatment plan.”
“I would like to come with you.” The words were a command, not a request.
Lawson noticed several rough-looking men with balled fists staring at Thornton as he walked by. “You may need my services if you do.”
“Miss Higgins, you will need to drink a tablespoon of this three times a day.”
Bessy sniffed the opening of the dark glass bottle Lawson held out to her and winced. “Eh, that’s ‘orrible stuff!”
Lawson could not help smiling at the face she made. “It is called an expectorant. It will stimulate your coughing and loosen the fluff so it can be expelled from your lungs.”
“What’s that yo’ say? What’s it to do?” She looked up at him wide-eyed.
Lawson chose his words more carefully. “It will make you cough harder, and more often, so that your lungs can bring out the fluff. You must take it every day.”
“Just the smell o’ it would be ‘nough to make me cough up ‘most anything!” But she obediently swallowed the prescribed dose. Lawson waited until she had finished another fit of coughing before speaking again.
“My other prescription is simpler, but it will be harder for you to carry out.”
Bessy looked up at him expectantly. “What is it?”
“You must get up out of your bed and walk every day.”
“Walk!” Bessy exploded in disbelief. “Ye must be daft! I’ve nowt been out o’ this bed in weeks. I haven’t the strength. The last time I tried, it wored me out just crossing the room.”
“I have seen many of these cases, Miss Higgins, and it is always the people who lie abed who do not survive. Being still so much is unnatural, especially in one so young, and it opens the body to infection and further disease. Besides, getting up and moving around will also stimulate your lungs to take in more air, helping to further expel the fluff. You must walk!”
“I will try,” Bessy said doubtfully, “but I canna do it on me own.”
“I can help you,” said Margaret, moving from the shadows at the edge of the room to stand by her friend. “Let’s try it now.”
“Here? In front o’ all these people!” Besides Margaret and Lawson, Thornton stood by watchfully, observing in silence.
At Margaret’s encouraging nod, Bessy swung her legs over the side of the bed.
With Margaret holding her around her waist, she managed to put weight on her feet for the first time in weeks.
She took half a dozen hesitant steps forward before her strength gave out and she began to slump over.
Thornton was at Bessy’s other side before Margaret even realized what was happening.
“Here, Miss Higgins, allow me.” He grasped Bessy’s elbow firmly but gently, keeping her from collapsing any further.
“Lean a bit towards me so that your weight is more centered. If Miss Hale can hold you up on her side and I do my part on this side, we might be able to take you all around the room.”
“Just t’ the door would be ‘nough,” Bessy answered, her usual tart tone softened by a note of longing. “It’s been so long since I seen me the sun. And I’d love t’ see me a bunch o’ roses one more time. We used t’ have a bush growing just outside.”
In unspoken agreement, Thornton and Margaret steered her towards the front door.
When they reached it, Bessy put out her hand to grasp the door frame as she looked outside.
Luckily, the sun was out from behind the clouds.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as its rays hit her face. Bessy smiled.
At that moment, with the sun creating a halo on Bessy’s fair hair and with her face displaying an angelic smile, Lawson felt something inside him lurch.
He turned away hastily, making notes in his ever-present notebook.
“That is excellent progress for today, Miss Higgins. Tomorrow I would like you to try to walk out of doors, if possible.”
Once Bessy was safely back in bed, Thornton offered to walk Margaret back to her home, but she declined. “I have errands to carry out before I go back to Crampton, and I am sure you are busy with the strike. Do not allow me to detain you.”
Thornton unhappily watched her walk away. When he turned back to Lawson, he found the doctor’s eyes on him. “You might try telling her how you feel about her, Thornton,” he advised knowingly.
This time Thornton did not bother denying his feelings for Margaret. “You do not understand, Lawson. If I thought I had a chance in the world, I would throw myself at her feet. But she is from the South and does not understand our Milton ways. She thinks me rough and crude.”
“Nobody would call you rough or crude after seeing the way you were with Bessy--that is, Miss Higgins--today. Her own mother could not have taken greater care with her. Let your young lady see more of that side of you, and her opinion is bound to change. It seems to me,” he added with a sly smile, “that Miss Hale cannot possibly take care of Miss Higgins by herself every day. She will need help.”
“I will come every day,” Thornton vowed, “as long as the girl’s father will allow it.”
“Yo’d must be outten yo’ mind, girl!” Nicholas Higgins exploded at his daughter that night when she told him of the visits from Thornton and Lawson.
“Any friend o’ Miss Margaret’s is welcome here, o’ course, but the sight o’ that Thornton vexes me!
So proud and lordly, thinkin’ he owns whatever he sees! ”
“Hoo very nearly does, father,” Bessy pointed out, but Nicholas was not in a mood for humor.
“How’ll it look t’ me union brothers, havin’ a master ‘ere in me own ‘ouse during a strike?” he fumed. “I’ll not allow it! Find help somewhere else. We don’t need charity fro’ Thornton nor any o’ his kind!”
Betsy took a deep breath. “Father, I’m a-dyin’,” she said.
Her simple proclamation pulled Nicholas up short, and he turned to stare at her.
“Yo’ know it’s true. I’ve got the white fluff just like mother ‘ad and just like all t’ others we’ve known ‘fore and since. This doctor is my only chance at livin’.
And I do want t’ live, father. I want t’ get better and grow older and maybe get married and ‘ave me own children someday.
Would yo ‘ave me throw away that chance?”
Nicholas sighed, frustrated by his conflicted feelings.
It was impossible to picture Thornton here in this house, helping his own daughter get better.
What did the man mean by it? Was he trying to relieve his guilty conscience for the misery he’d put his workers through?
On the other hand, Nicholas was in no position to refuse anything that would help his daughter.
He turned and stalked away from Bessy, his heavy footsteps pounding like thunder as he went.
The next day, Nicholas stood suspiciously in the doorway as he watched Margaret and Thornton walking Bessy around the room.
Lawson, as was his custom, sat at the table, watching and taking notes.
Thornton and Margaret were concentrating on their patient and did not notice Nicholas’ presence.
It was Bessy who looked up, saw her father, and stopped in her tracks.