Chapter 17
May 5th, 1898, Eagle Creek, Montana
Rachel regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, and tried to apologize as Matthew threw open the door and stormed out onto the street. She had just tried to be honest with him. She was worried, not necessarily just for him, but for the young women he might be writing to as well. They had replied to his advertisement because they longed for marriage and a family, and nothing he had ever said to her made her think that he wanted either. Even in his letters, he had not even mentioned them, or asked her feelings on whether she wanted them.
But she could not chase him up the street, so she let him go and sat back down to her work. But she could not concentrate. She’d been glad that she hadn’t seen him in the days since the May Day dance. Her emotions had been left in a confused jumble by his actions, and words. He had behaved like a jealous suitor, but tried to brush it off as just being tired. It made no sense to her. She had always accepted the idea that he had no intention of settling down anywhere, or with anybody. He was too aloof, to closed off for her to even feel that she really knew him at all.
She wondered if he’d received Caitlin’s last letter. Seeing his reaction today she wondered, and not for the first time, if she had done the right thing, letting Meredith talk her into helping Tom win the bet. She wasn’t sure if she could make a man like Matthew fall in love with her. She had absolutely no idea what he was looking for, and no clue how to find out. She had hoped that working with him might offer her a few clues, but she had learned nothing at all. Other than he was a man with a deeply troubled past, that he had no intention of talking about with anyone.
But even though she only knew him as well as he was prepared to let anyone know him, she cared deeply for him. The way she had felt in his arms had been so perfect, as if she was made to be there, and she had felt shivers of delight when he had looked at her so intensely that she could have almost believed that he wanted her. But she knew that he did not.
Matthew was a good man and underneath the cool exterior he was deeply passionate about his work and the people whose health he was charged with. The man she saw every day at work, who paid attention to the tiniest details from a crease in a sheet, to the temperature of his stethoscope when he placed it upon a patient’s back was not as unattached as he claimed to be. And the man in the letters to Caitlin, at least that she had received so far, was not unfeeling or disinclined towards the idea of falling in love, nor was the man who had come back from a lunch date deflated because it had gone wrong.
And that hurt, too. For the briefest of moments on Sunday, she had let herself believe that he might come to love her. But Rachel had certainly never seen him so angry as he had been when he stormed out of the door, just now, when she’d teased him about his meeting today. She’d done it to protect herself, to hide her own feelings from him so he wouldn’t feel he had to address Sunday evening’s odd behavior.
That outburst from him had been so out of character. He was usually so calm and in control of his emotions. He must have really liked the woman he met today, and Rachel could only surmise that she had been the one to reject him. The thought of that made her both furious because any woman would be lucky to have Matthew want to marry her, and sad because she wanted him to want her.
She paced up and down the reception room, tapping her finger on her lips as she tried to make sense of this new realization. Matthew was handsome, of course he was. He was polite, an excellent doctor, and he was kind. And she had been working by his side through the very toughest of times. Of course she had fallen in love with him. He was the only healthy person close to her age that she’d really seen in months. It wasn’t anything more than a silly infatuation with someone she admired, nothing more. She would get over it as soon as life returned to normal.
But what if she did not? He most certainly did not see her the same way. And he was not a man truly suited to marriage. He wanted different things to what she wanted. It would be a match doomed to misery as either she would have to deny all that she had longed for, or he would. No, it would be for the best if she simply pushed her feelings aside and went on with her life.
Yet, she had to continue to be Caitlin. She had promised Elise and Meredith that she would do all she could to help them, and that meant she had to get Matthew to fall in love with a woman he could never meet. She sank back down at the desk and buried her head in her hands. How had it come to this? What had possessed her to think that she could make a man fall in love with her by letter? She’d hardly had any luck doing so in person, much less on a page. Rachel was not a flirt. She had often missed the signs that someone was interested in her until it was too late, and they had grown tired of trying to gain her attention – despite being excellent at seeing when others were infatuated with someone else.
The bell above the door tinkled merrily and Maud came in. “Are you quite well?” she asked, looking at Rachel anxiously.
Rachel looked up. “I am. Just a fool, but hopefully that isn’t terminal.”
“It can be,” Maud said with a puzzled look. “But I’d not have had you down as a fool, so do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think so,” Rachel said slowly.
“Well, I have broad shoulders if you change your mind. Now, get away now. You’ve been here more than eighteen hours.”
“Has it been that long?” Rachel asked, glancing up at the clock, surprised to see that it was almost five o’clock. She had been here since the changeover with Maud last night at ten.
“I thought that Matthew or Andrew was supposed to be covering for me as I had to go and visit with my sister,” Maud said shaking her head.
“Matthew was supposed to be off all day today,” Rachel said, not mentioning that he had stopped by. “Perhaps Andrew forgot.”
“Andrew doesn’t forget things like that,” Maud said. “Can you give me another half an hour? I think I should go and check on him.”
Rachel nodded. “Maud, you don’t think he…” she tailed off.
“I don’t want to, but he’s been looking a little pale and thin in the past weeks. I’ve been a little worried about him. He’s hardly a young man anymore, and we’ve been working all the hours the good lord has sent us for months.”
“Then hurry,” Rachel said, almost pushing the older woman back out of the door.
Maud headed off along the street to the Walker’s house. Rachel watched from the doorway of the clinic, her heart pounding in her chest. Maud hadn’t even stepped inside the house and she turned and beckoned Rachel over. Rachel ran to her side. “Fetch Matthew,” Maud said her tone urgent and afraid. “Quickly.”
Rachel didn’t wait to hear more. She ran along the street to the boarding house and ran up the stairs to Matthew’s room. “It’s Andrew,” she cried, bursting into his room without knocking. But he wasn’t inside.
“Oh, Matthew. Of all days, this is not the day to be missing,” she muttered to herself as she ran back down the stairs and checked the kitchen and the parlor. Mrs. Garfield was sitting in her chair by the fire and looked up as Rachel burst into the room.
“Whatever is the matter, dear?” she asked.
“Do you know where Matthew goes when he’s not here or at work?”
“You could try the saloon. He goes there with Tom, Nate and Aidan often. Or perhaps he might be up at the O’Shaunessy place. He visits with Aidan often.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said and dashed back outside, Mrs. Garfield following on after her asking what was wrong.
Rachel didn’t stop to tell her more. Word would spread soon enough, but the town didn’t need to be panicking that their doctor was unwell until more was known about what was wrong. It would just cause panic. She raced along Main Street to the saloon, but the barkeep hadn’t seen Matthew in weeks. She looked at the track leading up to Aidan and Meredith’s ranch, and wished she was a better rider because she certainly didn’t want to walk all that way uphill. She would have to take a chance though, because Andrew needed Matthew now.
Jonas was grooming one of the horses in the yard when she arrived at the public stable. “Do you have a gentle horse that will get me up the mountain safely? I haven’t ridden in years, and I wasn’t very good at it then,” she said breathlessly.
“I’ve not got anything suitable,” Jonas said kindly. “Only horse I have left is Lucifer here, and there’s a reason he’s named for the devil himself. But if you tell me why you need it, perhaps I can go in your stead?”
“I need to find Matthew. He may not even be there, but it’s the only place I’ve not tried.”
“Up at Aidan and Meredith’s?”
“Yes,” Rachel confirmed.
“I’ll have this one tacked up in a heartbeat, and I’ll find him, wherever he is,” Jonas promised.
“Thank you. Bring him to the clinic, if we aren’t there then to Dr. Walker’s house.”
“I will,” Jonas assured her.
She was glad he hadn’t asked more questions. She wasn’t sure she could have answered them. She watched as he deftly saddled the horse, whose eyes flashed with white as he did so, and he kicked out at the weight upon his back. Jonas mounted and Lucifer set off as if hell itself was at his heels. Rachel crossed the street and went back to the Walker’s handsome house. The front door was on the latch, so she called out and then let herself in.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Maud called out. Rachel hurried through, rolling up her sleeves ready to do whatever Maud needed her to. “Is he not with you?” Maud asked, looking behind Rachel for Matthew. Rachel stared at Andrew’s pale, almost lifeless face, and the gaping wound in his leg. His trousers were soaked with blood. Maud was holding a sodden rag to it to try and stem the bleeding. The pain must have been immense, because it was clear that he was unconscious, even as a cold sweat formed on his brow.
“He wasn’t at home, or the saloon. Jonas has gone looking for him. He’ll get him here as quickly as he can.”
“He’d better,” Maud said grimly. With the hand not staunching the wound, she took Mrs. Walker’s hand in hers. “But we’ll do all we can to keep him with us,” she assured her. “Rachel, fetch some blankets and pillows. The least we can do is try and make Andrew comfortable. And rip up some sheets to use on the wound.”
“They’re in the cupboard on the landing,” Mrs. Walker said, tears pouring down her cheeks.
Rachel nodded and went upstairs. She found everything she needed and took them down to the kitchen where she and Maud made Andrew a makeshift bed, moving him cautiously, all the while maintaining the pressure on his wound. He’d not uttered a sound or flinched, even when they moved his stricken leg. Once she’d ripped up the sheet into usable cloths, she took over from Maud applying pressure to the wound. Maud stayed beside him, her thumb on his wrist to measure his pulse. “He’s growing weaker,” she whispered to Maud.
“He’s not got much time. We need Matthew. Neither of us is capable of dealing with a wound like this.” She looked around the kitchen, as if hoping to magically find suitable equipment to sew Andrew up, then looked back at the wound helplessly.
“Do you know what happened?” Rachel asked.
“He was preparing the vegetable bed in the garden,” Mrs. Walker said softly. “I was hanging out the washing on the line, and I heard him cry out. I ran around and saw him staggering up onto the porch, dripping blood everywhere. He’s usually so careful, but he must have slipped or fell on the scythe, or something.” She sobbed and dabbed at her eyes with one of the pieces of ripped up sheet.
“I can barely feel his pulse,” Maud said so softly Rachel almost didn’t hear her. “Can you see if you can find it?” She placed her hand over Rachel’s and they switched again.
Rachel sought Andrew’s pulse on his wrist and at his throat. Maud was right, it was feint and thready. She put her head to his chest in the hope of hearing it more clearly, as Matthew burst into the house. “Oh my goodness,” he cried, sinking to his knees. He quickly checked the wound. “We need to get him to the clinic, now.”
“We can’t move him any further, he’ll bleed out if we do,” Rachel said.
“I can’t operate on him here,” Matthew said. “I haven’t got anything I need.”
“Tell me what you want, I’ll fetch it from the clinic,” Rachel urged him.
“We don’t have time.”
Rachel turned to Mrs. Walker. “Does Andrew keep any of his surgical tools here?” she asked.
“I think so. He has a bag he was given by my father when he graduated medical school. I don’t think he’s ever used…”
Rachel cut her off. “Where is it?”
“In his study. The room at the front of the house. He always kept it on a shelf above his desk.”
Rachel got up and ran to the study and grabbed the bag. She took it back into the kitchen. “Do you have any alcohol?” she asked.
“There’s some brandy in the pantry,” Mrs. Walker said, standing up and fetching it for her.
“It’s not ideal,” Matthew said with a grimace as Rachel poured the liquor over the instruments and laid them out on a clean bit of sheet, “but I’ve worked with worse.”