John didn’t look convinced. And why should he? The amount of the fare was as big as the stars in the sky. How could she expect him to incur such a debt? She wouldn’t if not for Giselle’s heartfelt pleas, and the fact Tante Harriett had done the same for her without ever asking her to repay a cent. That’s what she really desired. She needed to be truthful from the beginning.
“I understand the fare is a huge burden. Her savings falls short about one hundred and seventy-nine marks, approximately one hundred dollars. I can’t ask you to pay it, John, but I can from the profits of the shop, if you will lend me the money up front until I can save it. Tante Harriett paid my fare, and I wish to do the same for Giselle.”
John sat quietly as he listened, and then finally said, “What about the ocean crossing? It’s dangerous for a single woman, especially as young and beautiful as she must be if she looks anything like you.”
Lily lifted a shoulder, hopeful he was seriously considering her request. “That’s true, but I sailed safely from Germany to Boston. She’ll be fine if she keeps to herself and stays in her cabin for most of the trip. I was lucky to have a small family in my third-class cabin that looked after my welfare. We can pray for that.”
Her eyes brightened as she added, “And if we start looking for a new home now, we’ll have time before she’d even arrive in Boston, plus another two weeks if she came by stage, or faster if she took the train all the way to San Antonio, although that would increase the cost. That’s plenty of time to find a new place and get moved.”
John scooted his chair closer and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll have to think about it, Lily.”
She’d never seen him look so serious. A knot formed in her stomach.
“Can you be patient?” he asked.
She nodded, disappointed he wasn’t as enthusiastic as she.
“Don’t look so unhappy,” he said, the smile on his lips not traveling to his eyes. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. But promise me you won’t be too disappointed if this arrangement doesn’t materialize as fast as you’d like.” He pressed several warm kisses against her forehead.
Resigned, she nodded. She’d done all that she could.
John stood and stretched, looking at the kitchen area. “You said you’d put some pastry back for Jasper and Tucker? I’m sure they’re about ready to charge through the door from all the good smells drifting over to the doctor’s office. Do you have any fittings today?”
He seemed uneasy, eager to leave. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped her place.
Getting up, Lily went to the sideboard, retrieved the plate, and quickly iced the rolls. “I do. Mrs. Tuttle is coming in to try her blue velvet gown.” She handed John the plate.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time. Those two won’t know what hit them when they bite into these.” He leaned in and bussed her cheek. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Lily hadn’t expected John to say yes right away, but then, his anxious expression had her worried. Was there something going on that she didn’t know about?
Chapter Six
The walk to the doctor’s office was ten medium steps. In the empty kitchen behind his examining room, John set the plate of cinnamon rolls in the center of the table, wondering where Jasper and Tucker had gone. He proceeded to the back window and gazed out on the alley to view the rear of the buildings that lined Main Street. The sheriff’s office, the saloon, and the Union Hotel. He grasped the back of his neck, his thoughts troubled.
Growing up in Montana on a prosperous cattle ranch like the Heart of the Mountains had afforded him any opportunity he’d been inclined to chase. He’d lived in a big house with a cook, nice furnishings, and a large loving family. Being honest with himself, he’d have to say he’d grown up pretty rich. His goal in becoming a doctor hadn’t been to make money, but to help those in need. Make a difference in someone’s life.
Bob Mackey, the man John had accidently shot and killed when he was only nine, popped into his mind. The memory of the merchant’s white face, devoid of any life-giving blood, still deeply disturbed him. That horrible event had been his inspiration to become a doctor, along with a desire to leave his hometown, where a cloud of unhappiness followed his footsteps because of his inability to forgive himself.
John insisted on helping his parents pay for his schooling in the East with the money he’d saved over his lifetime. Then he’d used most of the remainder to buy Jasper Bixby’s medical practice. These last few months working in Rio Wells had been an eye-opener. He had taken on his profession, understanding fully that being a small-town doctor was not a way to get rich.
He glanced in the mirror that hung over the dining table. The red scar that ran the side of his temple was still a bit noticeable. He blinked, feeling down. In reality, he was a poor town doctor, without the means to save any money. Yes, he owned the building and equipment that went along with the practice since Bixby had handed over the reins, but that was about all.
What about Lily? The idea of bringing her little sister out from Germany had about knocked him off his chair. His salary in Rio Wells equaled that of a ranch hand, about twenty-five dollars a month—give or take a little. He received other payment in food, dinners, and the happiness his knowledge had helped his new friends and made their lives a little better, but that was about all.
On the other hand, Lily’s shop had really begun to sprout wings and fly. He was very happy for her indeed. Still, he didn’t want her to be the one to use her earnings for household needs, and especially the rent on a new “proper” home. He hadn’t known she was unhappy upstairs. His heart lurched when he considered what else she might be keeping from him. And now this.
One hundred dollars!
He could easily write home, and his father would send the sum with no questions asked, but he hated to do that. They’d already spent more money on his education than on all the other brothers and Charity combined. He couldn’t make the request.
The front door opened and then banged closed. He turned when Bixby and Tucker appeared in the kitchen, followed by Lily’s white cat.
John took a deep breath. “Where’ve you two been?”
“Went over to the mercantile to see if the supplies we ordered had arrived,” old Jas Bixby replied, his gaze scanning the kitchen.
“Well?” Agitation was still biting at John. “Were they in? We’re pretty low on laudanum, as well as suture thread.”
Tucker, having already spotted the cinnamon rolls, had one in his hand and took a large bite.
Bixby regarded him with thoughtful eyes. “They sure weren’t. Said they’re on back order. We might consider stocking up on a few things so we don’t have to worry every time we run low.”
Silence prevailed in the kitchen. Bixby helped himself to the sweets on the table.
“That’s a good idea,” John said, realizing he should have done that months ago. He shrugged off his agitation. “What do you do around here for fun?”
At John’s question, Bixby turned and gazed at him. “That’s an odd thing to ask from someone who’s been here long enough to know most people. Things we do, as well as things we don’t. Somethin’ troubling you, boy?”
Suddenly, the room around John appeared all the more shabby. He saw the clean, but basic, four walls. A well-worn table with six chairs, a clock, the front waiting room with a few straight-back chairs and a bookcase.
Was this how Lily saw the place? Did she regret marrying him? Had she settled to become a thrift-bare doctor’s wife when they fell in love? His cousin Dustin could have given her so much more.
At Bixby’s interested gaze, as well now as Tucker’s, John shrugged. This wasn’t their fault. He shouldn’t take out his uncertainties on them.
“I guess I’m bored. Might be nice to have someone to heal or stitch up.”
At the petty way that sounded, John headed to the pump to get a cup of water.
Bixby followed his movements thoughtfully. “You’d rathe
r have someone suffering just so you could stay busy? I don’t like the sound of that. You might think different if influenza or diphtheria hit Rio Wells. I’ve seen it, and such a disease ain’t pretty. Keeps you praising each boring day that passes that everyone you care about is smiling and well.”
“That didn’t come out right. Of course, I don’t want anyone suffering or sick.” He rapped his knuckles against the countertop. “Sometimes I feel useless, that’s all. It’s not a sentiment I like.”
“You may as well get used to it.” Bixby walked over to the stove and shook the coffeepot. “There’s enough here for three small cups.” He glanced between John and Tucker. Tuck shook his head, as did John.
“Suit yourself.” He poured the thick, cold brew into a mug.
Feeling mulish, John went for his hat. He’d take Bo for a ride. Maybe go out to the ranch and ride herd with Uncle Winston since both Dustin and Chaim were off in San Antonio.
“If Lily asks, tell her I’m riding out to the Rim Rock.”
Perhaps his horse under him and the wind in his face could dispel the growing anxiety in his gut. Maybe, and maybe not.
Later that day, John arrived at the Rim Rock Ranch more conflicted than ever. He didn’t have any answers. Lily had married a poor town doctor, one who owned a practice that would never make him rich.
Now, if he lived in New York, that would be a different matter altogether. Or if he had stayed in Boston like several of his instructors had encouraged him to do. One had even offered a partnership in his practice. The doctor said he was looking to slow down; said he had enough business for the both of them and then some.
But five long years in the city had John yearning for wide-open spaces like the ones he remembered from his youth. Air without the taint of coal dust, streets filled with people who knew your name, a thick steak of gamy venison. The city didn’t have those things. He’d understood that he’d never be rich if he returned to practice in Montana or any other less populated place. A country doctor was just that. He was as different from a city doctor as a country mile was from a city block.
With disturbed thoughts, he dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail. Now that he had Lily to think about, he felt different. She wanted a home to make her own and to bring her sister to America. Both were understandable desires. She wasn’t asking for the moon, but he didn’t have any answers.
He gazed around a moment, taking in his surroundings. The bunkhouse was quiet. The place felt deserted. He didn’t see anyone, so he went to the front door of the ranch house and knocked.
Maria, the Mexican maid, answered the door. She smiled when she recognized him. “Señor John, please come in.”
Footsteps in the hall, hurrying his way, sounded on the large flag tile that covered every floor in the house.
“John,” his aunt Winnie said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. She was always after him and Lily to come and visit. “What a nice surprise. What brings you our way on this beautiful November day?” She gave him a hug.
He felt a bit uncomfortable. “Actually, I just needed to get out of town for a while and take a ride. Thought I’d come and say hello.”
Her smile ebbed. “Of course you did. You and yours practically grew up on the back of a horse. Dustin and Chaim as well. Ask them to sit inside for more than twenty minutes, and I’ll have a mutiny on my hands. I was hoping Lily was with you.”
“Nope, not today. She has a customer coming for a fitting. Once she gets sewing, not much of anything will distract her until she has completed the project. She’s a hard worker.”
“John, I hope you won’t think me indelicate, but I must comment on how well the wound on your face has healed. For such a nasty cut, I’m amazed that only a small line remains. And look.” She pulled up her sleeve, showing him the burn she’d gotten two weeks ago while taking biscuits from the oven. “I’ve never seen anything like it. That salve you gave me has almost made this disappear. I’ve had burns before that took weeks to heal, and then months for the redness to fade away. Not so here.”
Astonished at how well her injury looked, he said, “I certainly can’t take credit. Jas has been perfecting his recipe over the years. It’s pretty amazing.”
“And to think the juice comes from a simple little cactus. I’m sure it’s messy to extract.”
John shrugged. “Not too bad, just takes time and patience.”
“Well, please thank him for me again when you see him. I’d like to get another small bottle to have on hand for emergencies.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him, Aunt Winnie. And the next time I see one of the family in town, I’ll stick a bottle in their pocket to bring home to you.”
He glanced around. The large, quiet room reminded him of one of the libraries back at the university in Boston. Two generous sofas faced each other, separated by a square coffee table. On the side wall was a large window facing east with a view that was devoid of any barns, outbuildings, or fence. Two large wooden chairs sat in one corner with a three-foot tall trunk between them, draped with a decorative woven blanket of a multitude of bright colors. A large oval mirror, rimmed in dark timber, hung on the creamy white wall over the fireplace. The top of each door and doorway was softly arched.
“Is Uncle Winston here?”
“Actually, he’s out with Manolito and the hands at the herd. Dustin and Chaim are still in San Antonio, but they will be returning tonight.”
He nodded. “Yes, taking Emmeline to the train.” Emmeline, his former fiancée, was going home to Boston because her father had taken ill. “I’m relieved it’s not life threatening.”
“Yes,” she said. “But until she returns, Chaim won’t know what to do with himself. They’re like two peas in a pod.”
That was certainly the case. He wished Emmeline a safe trip to Boston and then a speedy return. He’d been so thankful after he’d broken off their engagement, only to find she’d actually fallen in love with his cousin Chaim while she had been staying at the ranch. The revelation had been a surprise, and a weight lifted from his shoulders. Knowing she’d found someone else took the sting out of the breakup, and the burden off him.
John fingered his hat brim, anxious to get back outside and on his horse, but he didn’t want to appear impolite. “Where’re Madeline and Becky?” he asked, deliberately unrushed. “The place feels pretty quiet.”
Aunt Winnie smiled. “They went out early to the arroyo with their paints and canvas. I expect them back anytime. The air is warming, and they rarely stay out for more than a couple of hours at a time. Would you like to wait for them?”
He shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. “I think I’ll ride out toward the herd and see if I can locate Uncle Winston. Give Bo a good workout. He’s been stalled up for too long.”
“Winston will be delighted you did. Check at the bunkhouse. They’ll know where to send you.”
She followed him to the door and patted him on the back when he pushed on his hat and pulled down the brim.
“Next time don’t knock. This is your home as much as the one in Montana.” She gave him a stern look. “I mean that, John. Come again for supper and bring Lily. That young woman warms my heart.”
Yes, he knew about that. Since marrying Lily, his love for his wife grew every day. No one had warned him marriage would be like that. He hadn’t known her well-being and happiness would be his most ardent desire. And right now, her most ardent desire was to bring her sister to Texas.
Writing home to ask for a loan again crossed his mind. John was certain his pa would send the funds, no questions asked, as would any of his brothers. He could ask, but he didn’t want to. His McCutcheon pride said he should figure out this problem on his own.
Frustrated, John strode out, gathered Bo’s reins, and headed for the bunkhouse, intent on finding someone to direct him. He wasn’t that familiar with the Rim Rock’s pastures, but if locating Uncle Winston took the entire day, he wouldn’t mind at all.
He had som
e thinking to do.
Chapter Seven
Finished with his steak and potatoes, Dustin set his fork and knife on his plate, resigned to the fact Sidney Calhoun was not joining him for supper. After he’d been seated, he waited a good forty minutes before ordering and had eaten much more slowly than was his norm.
He was disappointed, but not surprised. She’d made her feelings crystal clear today. The less she saw of any McCutcheon, the better.
Glancing around at the candlelit tables occupied by happy couples filled Dustin’s chest with melancholy. The soft sounds of the single violin being played in the corner of the room added to his discomfort. Not that he was thinking about Miss Calhoun, or even Lily. The fact was, he’d been alone for a long time. He’d be damned if he could recollect the last time he’d been in love. An eternity since he’d had someone special to think about, or know she was thinking about him.
Who? He searched his memory. Annalise Bergonise? Could that many years have passed? She was a schoolgirl, and he used to put twigs in her hair to get her attention. There was always Martha Brown, yes, good and steady Martha. Daniel’s widow had been sweet on him for the past two years, and let him know her feelings too, but Dustin couldn’t muster any real interest in her. He liked her well enough as a friend, and her daughter Candy, who was a cute little snippet. But marriage?
Dustin shook his head and downed the last of his beer. He was pitiful. He’d had wild times in San Antonio and other places, with women who’d given generously of themselves, but he’d never entertained the thought of marriage. That was, until Lily Anthony came to town on a bullet-riddled stagecoach. She’d snagged his attention and got him thinking. And dreaming.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the first time he’d seen her as she stepped off the stage with her elderly aunt. For a short span of time, he really believed she was the one for him. Too bad she’d felt differently. His cousin John was a lucky man.
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