by Bess McBride
“No, you have to stay here.”
“No, I have to go.” Hilly jumped up and ran past Marie into the bathroom. Apparently, Marie’s profession paid well because the bathroom was almost modern in an old-fashioned way with a porcelain toilet, pedestal sink and claw foot bathtub. Hilly hugged the toilet.
Five minutes later, Marie knocked on the door.
“Are you all right, Miss Creighton?”
“Hilly.” Hilly, laying on the varnished wooden floor, whispered.
“Hilly, are you all right?”
She didn’t respond, not trusting herself to speak in case it brought on another round of nausea. The door opened, and Marie stuck her head inside. When she saw Hilly on the floor, she rushed in.
“Oh, no, this will not do. You can’t wallow on the floor. Come on, back to bed.” Marie hauled her to her feet and half carried her back to the bed.
“I think the doctor is at the door. I’ll be right back.”
She returned in moments with the doctor, a short, stout man with a shock of white hair and a large white mustache. He carried a large black bag, just like a country doctor in the movies.
“Now, what’s this?” he asked as he bent over Hilly to place a hand on her forehead. “I’m Doctor Marsh. Can you tell me what hurts?”
Hilly shook her head. She didn’t dare speak for fear of losing it. She pointed to her stomach.
“I found her at the drugstore, Dr. Marsh. Her stomach hurts, she’s nauseous, and I think she’s in a lot of pain.”
He turned to Marie. “I don’t remember seeing Miss...?” Marie supplied her name. “I don’t remember seeing Miss Creighton before. Is she new to town?”
Marie nodded. “I think so. I think she’s engaged to Clint Woodrow.”
“Oh, Clint!” Dr. Marsh said. He rummaged in his bag and pulled a stethoscope out, bending near Hilly again. “Are you new to town, Miss Creighton? Where are you from?”
Hilly nodded, then shook her head. Not only did she not trust herself to speak, she didn’t know what to say.
The doctor moved his stethoscope down from her chest to her stomach. As he pressed her painful stomach, he asked her questions about the pain and what she had recently eaten or drank, and she responded as best she could given her confused state. A spasm of pain gripped her, and she moaned.
Dr. Marsh straightened. His look of concern frightened Hilly.
“Well, Marie, I would say that Miss Creighton has dysentery. That’s why I was asking if she was new to town. We don’t usually have dysentery outbreaks here. This is highly contagious, Marie. I cannot let Miss Creighton or you leave this house, nor can anyone enter.”
Tears ran down Hilly’s face. Dysentery? Was she going to die?
“How dangerous is this, Dr. Marsh?”
“Very dangerous, Marie. You need to keep her hydrated with water—make sure it’s boiled water—and maybe some mint tea. I will contact the town waterworks and see what they can do to clean this up and treat the water. In the meantime, boil all your water, Marie. If Miss Creighton was well when she got here over a month ago, then she has contracted this here. When she is able to eat, give her dry toast as she can tolerate, and some applesauce. Nothing else, not until this has passed through her system.”
Marie nodded.
“Thank you, Dr. Marsh. Will you send word to Mrs. Dorn at the mercantile that Miss Creighton is staying here with me? Maybe she will be able to send word to Clint.”
“No,” Hilly whispered, her mouth now dry. “No Clint.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ll drop by and let Nan know. But Nan and Clint will not be able to see her, not while she is contagious. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how she is. Here is a tincture to give her. It won’t cure her, but it might help her sleep.”
Through a haze, Hilly heard the doctor giving Marie instructions. She hated that Marie was now in danger of coming down with dysentery, but what could she do? She was too weak to make it back to her own house.
She closed her eyes and listened to the murmur of the voices. The pain had receded for the moment, and she drifted in and out of consciousness, barely aware when Marie lifted her and put a glass of water to her lips.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. And she was. She was sorry that Marie was stuck with her, she was sorry she had ever thought badly of her, she was sorry that Marie was probably losing ‘work’ having to take care of her. To her shame, she must have voiced her words aloud.
“Don’t you worry about that, Hilly. I do pretty well for myself. I can take a break when I want. You know, I’m not actually a prostitute. I work in the saloon. I dance with the men, get them to buy over-priced watered-down drinks, entertain them a bit. But I don’t...um...you know. I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, but you know what I mean.”
“Oh,” Hilly whispered. “You mean...you and Clint? Katherine and Clint?”
“No, you silly girl! I knew that’s what you thought when I first met you. It made me angry. I could see you look down your nose at me, even though I’m about a foot taller than you. I hate that the ‘respectable’ women of this town don’t know the difference between a saloon girl and a prostitute.”
Hilly leaned back against the pillow, the water coursing down into her stomach and causing a spasm of pain. She breathed until it passed, almost as if she were having a contraction.
“I didn’t know,” she said. “I’m afraid I’ve been giving Clint a hard time about it.”
“You should have asked him,” Marie said. “He’s one of the most attractive young men around here, and I’ll admit I have a thing for him, but he’s about ten years too young for me.”
Hilly almost smiled. “I did ask him. I didn’t believe his answer.”
“That’s too bad, Hilly. He deserves better than that. He just visits the saloon to have a drink occasionally. Well, he used to. I haven’t seen him in a while. He hates it when the girls hang on him, and they all do.”
Hilly nodded. “I was wrong,” she said. “It’s complicated.” Nausea gripped her, and she panted. “I have to go.”
This time, Marie knew what she meant, and she helped Hilly to the bathroom.
“Alone,” Hilly whispered. “Alone.”
Marie nodded and shut the door behind Hilly.
Fifteen minutes later, Marie knocked on the door. Hilly opened her eyes, finding herself on the floor again. Marie entered, and repeated the process of pulling her up and dragging her off to the bed.
“Nan Dorn came running down here, but I couldn’t let her inside to see you. I’m afraid she sent word to Clint that you’re sick.”
Hilly moaned. “No, I don’t want him to know. Was probably my cooking.”
“Well, she wasn’t too happy that you were here with me, but Dr. Marsh said you can’t be moved and that you’re in quarantine.”
Hilly nodded, but her head pounded. “Are you okay, Marie? Not sick?”
Marie shook her head. “Not me. I’ve got a strong constitution.”
Hilly nodded, and fainted.
****
“Hilly?” A gentle hand soothed her forehead, easing the pounding in her head. “Hilly?”
Hilly thought she recognized Clint’s voice but that wasn’t possible. She was in quarantine. He couldn’t be in the house.
“Marie?” she whispered without opening her eyes. “I hear Clint’s voice.”
“It’s me, honey. How do you feel?”
Hilly opened her eyes. Marie stood by the door watching, and Clint sat on her bed brushing the hair back from her face.
“You can’t be here,” she muttered. She tried to push herself up, but the effort was overwhelming.
“Shhhh, don’t move, Hilly. Don’t move, sweetheart.”
Marie approached the bed with a cup of tea.
“He wouldn’t stop at the door. I wouldn’t say he exactly pushed past me, but that’s just about what he did.”
“The doctor will be mad at you,” Hilly whispered. Her stomach cramped, and she pulled
her knees to her chest.
“Hilly? Hilly? Are you in pain? What is happening to her, Marie?” Hilly was only faintly aware that Clint’s voice held a note of confusion mixed with fear.
“She’s very sick, Clint. She’s been like this for two days. She’s having a stomach spasm. That’s what Dr. Marsh called it. And she’s right, the doctor is going to be mad at you.”
“Like I would stay away,” Clint said hoarsely. “I’m staying until she’s better. I can’t thank you enough Marie for helping her like this. I should never have left her.”
Hilly heard the words drift in and out as if in a painful dream. She couldn’t speak.
“She told me what happened.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” Clint’s voice took on a sharp note.
“About the confusion. About Katherine and me?”
“Oh!” Clint said with apparent relief.
“You do know I’m not a prostitute, right, Clint?”
“No, I didn’t know that. I thought all the women in the saloons were.” His hand caressed Hilly’s cheek.
“Well, most of the men in town know the difference. I should have known you wouldn’t. You’re a bit naïve.”
“Should I take that as a compliment, Marie?” Clint asked. He leaned over Hilly and kissed her cheek. “I don’t think she’s going to be able to drink that tea right now. She seems to be falling asleep again.”
“Fainting more like,” Marie said. “She’s been in and out of consciousness. I give her liquids when I can get her to stay awake, but unfortunately, they seem to make her stomach spasm again. It’s a vicious cycle. Awful to watch. I feel so helpless.”
“Why don’t you get some sleep, Marie? You look exhausted. I’ll stay with her. And what about wages? Aren’t you losing pay?”
“A little bit, but I’m pretty flush. I’ll be fine,” Marie said. “At any rate, I can’t go back to work either. I’m in quarantine as well.”
“I will gratefully pay you whatever you think is fair, Marie.”
“It was my choice to bring Hilly here. I don’t need your money, Clint. But I think I will go get some sleep. Good night,” she said. “Wake me up if you have any questions.”
Hilly heard no more but she thought she felt Clint’s hand smooth her hair. She fell off a cliff and slipped into unconsciousness again.
Once in the night, she thought she heard Clint’s voice.
“Please don’t die, Hilly. Please don’t die. I can’t live without you.” Something brushed her cheek. His lips? His warm hand gripped hers. She tried to squeeze his hand but the effort was too much. She couldn’t even pry her eyelids open. Her lips were dry, parched.
She felt herself lifted, a glass to her mouth, water. It took too much effort to swallow. Gentle fingers rubbed water on her lips and then she was lowered to the pillow.
“I love you, Hilly Creighton. Don’t you dare leave me. I love you...” Hilly fainted again.
****
“Well, I think she’s out of the woods,” Dr. Marsh said. Hilly tried to keep her eyes open, but the lids were heavy. She was so sleepy. Clint sat by her bed, and Marie hovered by the door. Hilly’s stomach muscles ached from the spasms, her back ached, and her head still hurt, but the nausea and cramping had passed.
“You can try her out on small amounts of bland food now. I can’t say that I’m happy to see you here, Clint. I don’t need a passel of patients on my hands. But since you’ve been here for three days now, and you haven’t gotten sick, I’m going to assume that you’re not going to get the dysentery. No one else in town has gotten sick, so thankfully, this is an isolated case.”
Hilly opened one eye, feeling like a leper.
“I’m sorry,” she said to the room in general.
“There is nothing to be sorry for, Miss Creighton. This is not your fault. I think that since you just recently came from back East, you were susceptible to some germs that the rest of us here in Tombstone have acquired a resistance to. You just be careful in the future with what you eat and drink. And be sure and boil all the water that you drink. I’ve been here so long, this water doesn’t bother me, but I think it did you.”
Hilly nodded, firmly resolved not to eat or drink anything ever again. Ever.
“Thank you, Dr. Marsh,” Clint said.
“You’re welcome. Come see me in a few days when you’re up and about, Miss Creighton, just to make sure you’re doing okay.”
Hilly nodded, and the doctor left.
She eyed Marie and Clint both in the same room. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse.
“I don’t remember half of what I’ve said for the past however many days I’ve been delirious or out of it, but I want you both to know how sorry I am. About...you know.” She nodded toward both of them.
“Well, I am sorry I deliberately insinuated something that wasn’t so,” said Marie. “We talked about that while you were in and out of consciousness.”
“Not to be too dramatic, but you saved my life, Marie,” Hilly said. “I would have gone back to my house and just died there if you hadn’t found me.”
Clint frowned and shook his head.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Nan might have thought to look in on you in a few days, but that might have been too late. And I wasn’t there.”
Hilly heard the guilt in his voice.
“Well, look, we’re all sorry,” Marie said briskly. “Clint, how about you leave the room while I help Hilly get cleaned up? She must be miserable.”
Hilly smiled. “A bath would be nice,” she said.
Clint rose. “I should have one too. I have not been to my room since I left town a week ago.”
“I meant to say something about that, Clint,” Marie chuckled. “I have always appreciated that you didn’t smell like a miner, but you could use a bath.”
Clint laughed and bent to kiss Hilly on the forehead. “I will return soon.”
“I’m going back to my house tomorrow,” Hilly said. “I can’t keep imposing on Marie like this.”
Clint’s smile dropped.
“I think you should return to Nan’s house. I think it would be safer for you there with someone to watch over you.”
Hilly shook her head, making her headache worse. “No, I’m going home.”
“Don’t worry, Clint. I can check in on her every day while you’re at the mine. That is, if Hilly doesn’t mind.”
Hilly smiled. “It’s a deal!”
Clint gave Hilly’s hand a last lingering touch and left.
“I’ll heat up some water,” Marie said. She left and Hilly heard the banging of pots and pans. So, apparently, Marie didn’t have hot running water either. Hilly had discovered Nan didn’t, and neither had Mrs. McIntosh. She hated that Marie would have to lug hot water into the bathroom for her. She tried to call out not to bother, but her voice just rasped.
Marie returned in fifteen minutes, and dragged Hilly from the bed.
“I can walk,” Hilly chuckled. She tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness hit her, and she sank back onto the bed.
“It doesn’t look like you can walk to me,” Marie said with a quirked eyebrow. “Come on.” She pulled Hilly up again, and Hilly leaned on her arm as they walked toward the bathroom.
“Not this place again,” Hilly said with a grimace.
“I don’t have another bathroom,” Marie said with a smile. “I am lucky I have this one at all. Most folks in town still use outhouses.” She shuddered. “Not for me. I’m a city girl, Philadelphia born and raised.”
She pulled Hilly’s nightgown over her head. Hilly, taken aback at first, realized that not only had Marie undressed her and put her to bed some days ago, she had half carried /half dragged Hilly back and forth to the bathroom. Marie had seen it all. Hilly allowed Marie to help her into the tub, so warm and soothing on her dry skin and aching muscles.
“What brought you out here?” Hilly asked. She reached for a bar of soap while Marie poured warm water over her matted ha
ir.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Rotten family, a need for adventure, flyers advertising saloons in the West who needed girls. And here I am!”
Hilly closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of having her hair washed. Her headache eased. Her head drooped as she almost nodded off again.
“You are still exhausted, aren’t you?” Marie said. “I thought you might want to get dressed and sit up for a bit for some tea and toast, but I think I will put you back to bed again.”
“Don’t you have to go to work?” Hilly asked. She tried to keep her eyes open.
“Yes, actually, I do, but not until about 6 o’clock. That’s when the boys from the mines and the Cowboys come in.”
“The Cowboys?”
“Yes, you know, the rowdy ones, the boys who cause all sorts of trouble in town. I don’t like them very much, but their pockets are loaded with money, and I get great tips and commissions from their drinks.”
“Do the Clantons and McLaury’s come into your saloon?”
“Yes, they do.” Marie leaned around Hilly’s shoulder and looked in her face. “Why? Do you know them? How? I would not think you would have occasion to meet them. Clint used to ignore them when he came into the saloon. I don’t think he liked them very much.”
“Oh, no!” Hilly shook her head. “No, I don’t know them.” She left it at that, hoping Marie would forget about it.
“What made you ask about them?”
“Oh, well, I think I saw a couple of them in the store once. I’m not sure.”
Marie nodded. “Oh, I see. That makes sense.” She rinsed Hilly’s hair and wrapped a thin towel around her head.
“Are you ready?”
Hilly could have wallowed in the water all day long, but it was already cooling, and she didn’t want Marie boiling up and hauling any more water into the bathroom.
“Yes,” Hilly said. She stood carefully, stepped out of the tub onto a thick braided rug and reached for the towel Marie handed her. Marie left the room while Hilly dried off and returned with a fresh nightgown.
“Back to bed for you,” Marie said.
Hilly didn’t argue. All she wanted was sleep. Marie gave her a comb to untangle her hair.
