Chapter 8
Cora smoothed her hands over her violet linen skirt, swiping away dust from the ten-mile ride. Two days in town in a row. She’d never get her garden finished at this rate. But Ben needed a doctor despite his insistence otherwise. The sooner he got well, the better.
Charlie was already too attached. What in the world was she going to do?
It didn’t matter that Ben had been best friends with Jeb.
She’d not subject Charlie or herself to the long-term pain of caring about someone who didn’t have the fortitude to break free of their self-imposed chains.
Her mother would have saved herself decades of pain and heartache if she’d kept walking the first time a young Ambrose Scott had tipped his hat to her.
Swiping at a fly, Cora frowned at the narrow green building down the block that housed the druggist. A lot of good that visit had done her.
As she pivoted away and tapped a finger to a loose hairpin, a gig rattled past driven by an elderly man.
The lady beside him hid behind her wide-open parasol as if the sun might cause her to melt.
Three cowboys wearing chaps, thick boots, and wide-brimmed hats rode past on the other side, exuding clouds of dust. One nodded.
She quickly averted her gaze and turned toward the plain gray building with two shingles.
Harrison, Attorney-at-Law, and Dr. Tucker.
She shuddered as she knocked. The last time she’d stepped foot in this building, it was to watch her father draw his last breath.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Ruddy, answered the door. Her rosy cheeks outshone her dull red hair which hung in a loose chignon. “Why, good morning, Miss Scott. What brings you into town? I heard you and the boy moved back out to the ranch.”
“Yes, we did.” Cora winced. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be subjected to a lecture on the foolhardiness of that venture. “I’m wondering if Dr. Tucker returned from San Antonio.”
“Afraid not. Do you know what he did?” Mrs. Ruddy beamed and stepped wide for her to enter the small waiting room with its rag rug and spindle-backed chairs.
“I have no idea.” But she was about to hear every detail, no doubt.
Mrs. Ruddy kept tabs on everyone and wasn’t prone to keep too quiet about them either.
Unfortunately, she probably hadn’t spared any details about Cora’s father.
The lady’s mouth outran her good heart on a regular basis.
Cora entered and removed her straw hat with its royal-blue ribbon tied around the band.
Mrs. Ruddy laid a hand across her bosom. “Dr. Tucker up and got himself married. Found some pretty little plantation princess half his age. Her pa’s going to set them both up fine somewhere over by the coast. We won’t see the likes of Doc Tucker again. Already sent for his medical books.”
Cora frowned. “Yesterday, when I was in town, the druggist said the doc was around.”
“Mr. Gregory must have been referring to Dr. LeBeau.” She winked. “He graciously offered to continue coming here one week a month until the town finds another doctor. Much better-looking than Dr. Tucker and still a bachelor. Of course, you already know that.”
“The doctor who attended to my father.” Mrs. Ruddy sounded like an advertisement for a mail-order groom. But Dr. Arthur LeBeau did leave an impression.
The man’s calm, matter-of-fact bedside manner had been a solace when he sat beside her delivering the news about her father.
He’d fallen from his horse in a drunken stupor and was in a deep coma, unlikely to wake up.
Dr. LeBeau had taken her hand in his to comfort her.
Only, she’d sat there like a stone wall, feeling little but relief. Was it wrong to not feel grief?
“Yes, you poor girl. I’d forgotten Dr. Tucker had already left on his trip by then. If Dr. LeBeau couldn’t save your father, no one could.”
Her father had been beyond saving for years. “May I see the doctor?”
“Is something ailing you, dear?” Mrs. Ruddy patted her arm. Freckles dotted her cheeks beneath the crinkles which lined her eyes. “Have a seat. You look a little pale. You couldn’t be in better hands. ”
“It’s not me—”
The office door clicked open. “Miss Scott.” Dr. LeBeau stepped into the hallway.
Over six feet tall, he resembled Ben McKenzie in height, but that was where the similarities ended.
He held his long, slender fingers toward her.
Instead of briefly clasping her hand, he bent at the waist and brushed his lips across her gloved knuckles.
She squirmed and drew her hand free as soon as it was polite.
A smile played across his thin lips. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” His murky blue eyes studied her. Dark, slicked-back hair, and an even darker mustache and goatee, outlined his light-complexioned face with its angular features.
The man made her feel as if they were at a cotillion. “Perhaps we might speak in your office?” She wouldn’t shame Ben by giving Mrs. Ruddy fodder for gossip.
“Certainly.” He waved her toward a short-back chair in front of a worn oak desk. He closed the door behind them as she gathered her skirts into the seat.
Sunlight filtered in through sheer green curtains and cast rays onto three books encased by bronze bookends on the far corner of the desk. A lion and man wrestling?
“I figured if I was going to be in Weatherford one week a month, I might as well bring a few of my own furnishings.” Dr. LeBeau settled in behind the desk. “It’s a scene from the Coliseum in Rome. A gladiator fighting a lion. The question is, ‘Who will win?’”
She shook her head. “The lion looks mighty ferocious.” Teeth bared and aimed at the bare gladiator’s armored forearm.
“I vote for the man.” LeBeau steepled his fingers. “He has intellect and strength.”
“Doesn’t the lion have that too?”
LeBeau cocked his eyebrows. “The man’s mind is superior, and I prefer to imagine he discovers a way to overcome the lion’s powerful might.
” His lips curved upward into a smile that left little doubt he conceived himself equal to the challenge of the battle on his desk.
“But you didn’t travel all the way to town to discuss bookends.
” He leaned forward. “What can I do for you today, Miss Scott? I’ve been concerned about your wellbeing since I heard you moved back to your ranch. ”
“Charlie and I are fine.” She lifted her chin as she gave the standard walled answer.
On the way here, she’d practiced half a dozen times how she would present the issue, but she’d prepared the speech for Dr. Tucker, not Dr. LeBeau.
She pressed her palms to her skirt folds.
“It’s my brother Jeb. Well, not really him.
A friend of his came to let us know Jeb passed away in Andersonville. ”
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Miss Scott. I offer my condolences. I remember you’d held out hope.” He whipped a handkerchief from his coat pocket and offered it.
She shook her head. “I’m all right.”
He laid it carefully on the desk more on her side than his and rested his forearms atop a ledger. “I reckon it might be years before all the losses from the war trickle in. But you said Andersonville? Was he a guard?”
She should have left the Andersonville part out of it. “My father and Jeb had a falling out a couple years before the war. Jeb went to live with relatives in Indiana. He enlisted with a regiment there.”
“A Yankee?” His eyebrows shot up.
She squirmed in her chair. “Yes, but a beloved brother all the same.”
“Of course, Miss Scott. I meant no disrespect.” He cleared his throat. “And this other Yankee traveled all the way to Texas instead of sending a letter?”
“My pa threw away the letters without reading them.” She fiddled with the lace on her sleeve cuff.
“I see. But I don’t understand. If your brother is deceased, why are my services required? Has the grief been too much? I could prescribe—”
“That’s not it. Jeb’s friend, Mr.…Captain McKenzie is ill.”
He folded his hands. “What type of illness? Is he able to come see me?”
“Captain McKenzie is a bit stubborn about seeing a doctor. Doesn’t even know I’m here. But I’m concerned.”
LeBeau fingered his watch fob. “I’d be happy to drive out, Miss Scott. As a matter of fact, I’d be pleased to give you a ride in my buggy, and you could tie your horse up behind.”
“Would you? I’d much appreciate it.”
“Be happy to.” He smiled. “But could you describe his symptoms so I’ll have an idea of what to bring with me?”
She blew out a breath. Ben would likely see this as a violation of his privacy, but so be it.
The doctor wouldn’t have any hope of helping if he wasn’t aware of the root cause of the symptoms. “He’s been sick in bed for the last five days.
A stomach ailment, but more. Feverish, headache. I…I offered him some laudanum.”
“That often relieves digestive ailments. Did it not alleviate the symptoms?”
Her mouth felt like sandpaper. “It turned out to be the problem.”
“Excuse me?”
“I could tell from his adverse reaction at the very sight of the medicine that the laudanum was the problem. That he needed it…too much, and hadn’t had it for a while.” Just like her father.
“I see.” Dr. LeBeau exhaled and settled back in his chair, smoothing his fingers down his mustache and bearded chin.
“That happens to some folks. They take it as medicine, and before they know it, they’re dependent upon it.
The physical ailment for which they took the medicine in the beginning goes away, yet their need for the relief doesn’t.
I don’t know if I can do anything for the mental ailment, but I can examine the man and prescribe something for his stomach and his headache.
It’ll be up to him to work through the rest.”
“I’d be much obliged if there’s anything you could do to help.”
“I’ll do all I can.” He rose and walked around the desk.
She stood.
Chin firm, he held out his hand.
She glanced at his for a moment before responding and offering her own.
He gently encased her hand in both of his. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with so much, Miss Scott. The loss of family, and now this man showing up at your house.”
She swallowed hard. “I owe him a great debt. I’m sure he traveled here at significant personal expense and effort.
” Not to mention saving her land by emptying his purse.
And here she was betraying him. Not betraying…
helping. If anyone could do something to alleviate Ben’s illness, Dr. LeBeau could.
“It’s just that I can’t have someone…” She slipped her hand from Dr. LeBeau’s skilled fingers.
“I’m sure he has good intentions, Miss Scott.” The murky blue pools held onto her gaze. “But such men when without their medicine can be like caged lions, and with their medicine? The opium eventually dulls their minds and their souls.”
Like her father. Why had Jeb sent Ben McKenzie to her?