17. Chapter 17 #2
Pine Creek's modest hotel stood two stories tall at the end of the main street, its dining room the closest establishment to fine dining the frontier town possessed.
Claudine changed into her blue silk dress at Mrs. Billings' home while Michael donned his good suit, both silently acknowledging the importance of presenting themselves with dignity before James Elliott.
"You look beautiful," Michael told her softly as they walked toward the hotel. "Every bit as elegant as any Chicago lady."
Claudine squeezed his arm gratefully. "Thank you. Though I confess I feel somewhat apprehensive."
"Naturally," Michael replied. "But remember this—whatever shared history exists between you and Dr. Elliott belongs to the past. We represent your present choice."
Michael's quiet assurance steadied her as they entered the hotel dining room. James rose from a corner table, momentary surprise crossing his face at Michael's imposing height and confident bearing.
"Dr. Elliott," Claudine greeted him formally. "May I present my husband, Michael Crawford? Michael, this is Dr. James Elliott, formerly of Mercy Hospital in Chicago."
The men exchanged handshakes, sizing each other up with the innate wariness of males protecting territory. James recovered his composure quickly, gesturing to the table set for three.
"Thank you both for agreeing to meet me," he said smoothly as they seated themselves. "I realize my appearance must have come as quite a shock, Claudine."
"Indeed," she acknowledged. "Your letter suggested you were heading directly to California."
"Plans can be adjusted when matters of conscience arise," James replied. "After posting my letter, I realized written apologies, however sincere, lack the personal element true amends require."
Michael signaled the waiter, ordering coffee for himself and Claudine before turning his attention fully to their guest. "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with this visit, Dr. Elliott?"
The directness of the question unsettled James momentarily. "Closure, primarily." He recovered his composure. "For both Claudine and myself. And perhaps to explain more fully what happened in Chicago."
"You explained adequately in your letter," Claudine pointed out. "You administered the wrong medication to Mrs. Pemberton, then blamed me to protect your position."
James winced at the blunt summary. "Yes, though the circumstances were more complex. Fear drove my actions—fear of ruining a promising career, fear of disappointing my family who had invested so much in my medical education."
"Fear may explain your actions," Michael observed quietly. "It doesn't excuse them."
"No," James agreed, surprising Claudine with his ready admission. "Nothing excuses betraying someone who trusted me, both professionally and personally. That's why I finally confessed—the guilt became unbearable."
Their meals arrived, temporarily halting the conversation.
Claudine studied James as they ate, noting subtle changes since their Chicago days.
Lines around his eyes suggested strain, and his confident manner occasionally slipped to reveal uncertainty.
The polished doctor who had once seemed so perfect now appeared merely human, flawed and seeking redemption.
"The hospital board has formally cleared your name," James continued after the waiter departed. "Your nursing credentials have been fully reinstated. Should you ever wish to return to Chicago, your professional reputation awaits intact."
"Claudine has established herself quite successfully here," Michael stated, pride evident in his voice. "She works with Doc Miller in town and runs her own clinic at our ranch. The community values her medical knowledge enormously."
James raised his eyebrows. "A clinic at your ranch? How... innovative."
Claudine bristled slightly at his tone. "Practical, actually. Many neighboring families find it more convenient than traveling to town, especially during winter months."
"Of course," James conceded. "I meant no disrespect. It's simply different from the structured hospital environment you trained in."
"Different yet equally valuable," Claudine replied evenly. "Perhaps more so, as I serve people who would otherwise have limited access to medical care."
James nodded, accepting her point. "You always did have a gift for adapting to circumstances, Claudine. I admired that about you."
"My wife adapts and thrives," Michael corrected mildly. "Her medical practice continues expanding, benefiting the entire region."
The subtle emphasis on "my wife" wasn't lost on James, whose smile tightened imperceptibly.
"I'm pleased to hear it," he said. "Which brings me to another purpose for my visit.
The San Francisco hospital where I've accepted a position is establishing a new women's and children's wing.
They're seeking qualified nurses with training comparable to yours, Claudine. "
Claudine set down her fork, stunned by the unexpected proposition. "Are you offering me employment?"
"Suggesting a possibility," James clarified smoothly. "Your experience during the fever epidemic here, combined with your hospital training, would make you an ideal candidate. The position includes housing in the hospital complex and wages considerably higher than typical nursing posts."
Michael's face remained impressively neutral, though Claudine saw his knuckles whiten slightly where his hand rested on the table.
"As you can see, Dr. Elliott," Claudine replied evenly, "I have established both family and professional practice here. I have no desire to relocate to California or anywhere else."
"Of course," James acknowledged. "Though the opportunity would allow you to utilize your medical knowledge more fully than frontier practice permits. San Francisco offers educational advancement as well—several doctors there support women entering medical training."
"Medical training?" Michael asked, his gaze shifting to Claudine.
James smiled slightly. "Claudine always aspired to more than nursing, though opportunities for women in medicine were limited in Chicago. San Francisco proves more progressive in that regard."
Claudine felt heat rise in her cheeks as James casually revealed ambitions she had mentioned during their courtship but rarely discussed since arriving in Montana. "My priorities have changed," she stated firmly.
"Naturally," James conceded. "Though I hoped at minimum you might visit the facility during my establishment there. Your insights regarding women's care would prove invaluable to the planning committee."
Michael set down his coffee cup with deliberate care. "How long do you plan to remain in Pine Creek, Dr. Elliott?"
"Several days—perhaps a week," James replied. "The train to Sacramento departs from Helena weekly. I'm in no particular hurry."
"And your accommodations?" Michael inquired politely.
"This hotel, modest though it is, suits my needs adequately." James signaled for the waiter to refill their coffee cups. "I hoped to observe Claudine's work with Dr. Miller during my stay. Professional courtesy between medical practitioners."
Claudine noted the presumption in this statement—that James considered himself her professional equal rather than the man who had destroyed her nursing career in Chicago. Before she could formulate a suitably diplomatic response, Michael spoke.
"My wife maintains a busy schedule between her town practice, ranch clinic, and family responsibilities," he said pleasantly but firmly. "Any professional observation would need her explicit agreement."
"Of course," James replied smoothly. "I merely hoped to witness her expertise firsthand. Her reputation during your recent epidemic reached even Helena, where I made inquiries before continuing to Pine Creek."