“She’ll learn that it’s more comfortable with her nose down,” Brodie called.
Molly had learned a lot about horses in her short time on the ranch. Each teaching method had to be adjusted according to the personality of the horse. Lightning was a runner, Blaze a kicker, and Starburst easily spooked. The new pinto was docile for the most part but was given to sudden outbursts of energy when least expected. Then there was Blackie who was as unpredictable as the weather.
Her favorite horse, though, was Orbit. Each morning she stood by the fence and sang to him and he never failed to come galloping up to her. His antics made her smile, but it was his unfettered joy for life that she liked best.
The mare soon grew tired and stopped running. Molly hacked through another coughing spell and the skittish horse took off again.
“You gotta do something about that frog,” Brodie grumbled.
“I’m trying,” she said. Rosita had plied her with honey and some sort of cactus juice that tasted sour but felt soothing to her throat.
“Better let the doc have a look.” He tossed a nod in the direction of the ranch house just as Caleb emerged from the courtyard. Molly was surprised to see him leave so soon. His session with Donny had lasted for a mere twenty minutes. Her brother had been in a bad mood at lunchtime, which was why she was late. Was he still being difficult?
“I don’t need a doctor.” She’d purposely avoided Caleb since their meeting in the barn. His nearness distracted and confused her and she needed her full wits to get through each day.
“Let him decide.” Before she could protest, Brodie waved until he got Caleb’s attention.
“I told you I don’t need—” But it was too late. Caleb tossed something into his auto and jogged over to where they stood.
He greeted them both and glanced at the horses. “Is there a problem?”
“Nope,” Brodie said. “At least not with the horses. But Molly here is having some throat trouble.”
“Oh?” Caleb’s glance sharpened as he studied her.
Molly glared at Brodie who shrugged and walked away. She cleared her voice. “It’s just a little cough.”
“It doesn’t hurt to take a look.” Caleb motioned toward the ranch house. “We better go inside.”
She started to argue but changed her mind. With a shrug she marched to the house, pulling off her gloves as she walked. Moments later she settled upon a leather chair in the large room. Just being out of the dust-filled air made it easier to breathe and already she felt better.
Donny was in his room and Miss Walker was out on the range. There was no sign of either Rosita or Jose. It was just her and Caleb.
“How long have you had the cough?” he asked. Though he acted completely professional, she felt oddly shy in front of him. She wasn’t used to talking about herself to a doctor or anyone else. It was always about Donny.
“Since the fire.”
He bent over her, probing her neck with his fingers. His touch sent warm shivers racing through her, his large hands surprisingly gentle.
“Open and say ah,” he said.
She did as he asked and he peered inside her mouth. He was so close she could smell the faint scent of gasoline and the stronger fragrance of bay rum and leather.
His gaze met hers for an instant. “Does it hurt when you swallow?”
“A little,” she admitted.
He pulled out his stethoscope and hesitated. Lines deepened on his brow and he cleared his throat. “I need to check your lungs.”
Warmth rushed to her cheeks and she gave herself a mental shake. It was only a medical examination—nothing more.
“Would you mind unbuttoning the top buttons?” he asked.
She nodded and fumbled with a shaking hand. Slowly she unbuttoned two buttons, exposing her upper chest. He waited for her to complete the task before moving closer. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin, determined not to let him know how much his nearness affected her.
Caleb pressed the chest piece against the ivory skin below her neck. She didn’t flinch or even blush like most of his other female patients. For some odd reason, that made his job even more difficult.
Beneath her shirtwaist she wore an eyelet-trimmed camisole embroidered with tiny blue flowers. He sucked in his breath and looked away.
Moving the chest piece, his hand accidentally brushed against her bosom. A soft gasp escaped her and her gaze met his.
“Sorry,” he said. In his haste to set her mind at ease, his voice sounded harsh. Ragged.
She lowered her lids and her dark lashes swept her cheekbones. She said nothing, but his ear pieces picked up the quickening of heartbeats.
Examining a woman was never easy. Caleb’s college professors taught that protecting a woman’s modesty was of utmost importance, even more important than her health. Caleb didn’t agree, but he was nonetheless obliged to examine women fully dressed and deliver babies blind, keeping a mother’s modesty intact while he fumbled beneath a blanket.
But no woman had been as hard to examine as Molly—not because she was fully dressed but because she made him feel less of a physician and more of a man. Never before had he been so conscious of where he put the chest piece or placed his hands as he was at that moment.
He tried concentrating solely on the patient but it was the woman who commanded his attention. He observed things about her not previously noticed or detected—things not relevant to a medical examination.
Her eyes were an ever-changing sea turning from light to dark green seemingly on a whim. Today they looked like polished jade with little flecks of gold in their depths. One fine brow was arched a tad higher than the other. Her nose turned slightly upward like the corners of her mouth. The dimples on her cheeks looked even more intriguing up close.
“Did you know that lungs are the only organs in the body that can float in water?” He normally asked trivia questions to relax patients or divert their attention. In this case, it was the physician who needed calming and distracting.
Her gaze lifted to his and her dimples deepened. “I’m sure that information will come in useful one day.”
He grinned back at her. Her faint fragrance engulfed him and he envisioned himself in a field of lilacs. Instead of lowering her gaze she looked at him with bold regard, two circles of pink on her cheeks.
“Cough for me.”
She did what he asked and he drew back, pulling the stethoscope away and stuffing it back in his bag. “You have a bronchial infection. It doesn’t sound too serious.” He reached into the depths of his bag and pulled out a brown vial. “Take this two times a day.”
She took the glass bottle from him. Their fingers touched briefly before she quickly pulled away. “What happens if I don’t take it?”
“You’ll either get better or you won’t.”
She gave a girlish giggle and he recalled the graceful way she danced that day in the barn, could almost hear the musical sound of her voice. Finding himself staring, he quickly averted his gaze and stooped to pick up his leather bag.
“Thank you.” She followed him to the entry hall and he turned so suddenly to face her, she bumped into him. His hand shot out to steady her, his fingers curling around her elbow.
“Sorry,” she said, stepping away from him.
His hand dropped to his side. “It was my fault.” Lost again in the depths of her green eyes, he gave himself a mental shake.
“Uh . . . if there’s no improvement in a day or two, let me know.”
She nodded. “How . . . how was your session with Donny?” Her voice softened when she said her brother’s name but a shadow of worry settled on her forehead. It was all he could do not to chase it away with a touch of his hand.
“It went very well.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but neither was it accurate. They had a setback today—nothing to be concerned about—or at least that’s what he hoped. Donny had refused to get into his chair by himself. Maybe tomorrow.
“You didn’t work with him as long
as you usually do,” she said.
“I . . . have to get back to town.” Fearing she may have picked up his hesitation, he quickly added, “I’ll try to make up the time tomorrow.”
Her face lit up with a smile and something stirred inside, something sweet and tender and dear. Moments passed and still they stared at each other. She was the first to recover or at least look away. “I best not keep you any longer.”
He didn’t want to leave but there really was no reason to stay. “Get some rest.” With that he turned and hurried out the door.
Still shaken from her encounter with Caleb, Molly stood by the fence watching Orbit. Something was wrong. Normally the colt was in constant movement. Never before had she seen him stand so still. His mother stood a short distance away, seemingly unconcerned about her offspring’s odd behavior.
The brilliant orange sun was low in the western sky, casting purple shadows over the desert. The wind had died down but the distant mountains were still hidden behind a haze of dust.
Orbit wandered slowly over to his mother, but instead of letting him nurse, she pushed him away with a jab of her nose.
Molly’s mouth dropped open. What was going on?
She waved her arm, motioning Brodie over to the fence. Brodie finished unsaddling his horse before joining her.
“I just saw Orbit’s mother push him away. She won’t let him nurse.”
Brodie didn’t seem surprised. He leaned on the fence and gazed at the two horses in the distance just as the mare forced the young horse away a second time.
Brodie pushed his hat back. “Looks like she’s tired of taking care of him.”
“You mean she can turn on him, just like that?” Could nature really be that cruel?
“He’s more dependent on his mother than most foals. Guess you might say he’s out-stayed his welcome.”
Once again Orbit tried to approach the mare. This time she nipped him and Orbit ran away with a high-pitched whinny.
Molly gripped the fence. “We’ve got to do something before she hurts him.”
“Better get him out of there.” Brodie walked away.
“Wait,” she called. “What do I do then?”
“Wean him,” Brodie called back. “Teach him how to take care of himself.”
Molly stared after him. How in the world was she supposed to do that?
Chapter 19
Molly was very much on Caleb’s mind when he drove to the ranch a few days later. He wanted to help her but didn’t know how. One thing was clear: She couldn’t keep up her frantic pace very much longer. Something had to give.
He looked for her as he pulled in front of the ranch house and turned off the engine. The loud boom from Bertha’s tailpipe bounced like a cannon fire. Horses whinnied and a squawking chicken took off in a flurry of feathers. Magic placed his front paws on the dash and barked. There was no sign of Molly and he frowned. Today was Wednesday and that was the day she worked with the horses. He knew her schedule like he knew his own.
His office hours were nine to two, which left afternoons free to work with Donny unless there was an emergency. A rash of late-night medical calls, mostly women delivering babies plus an unexpected death, had interfered with his sleep for almost a week. Two nights previous, he’d nodded off while driving and had nearly run Bertha into a ditch.
Though some older citizens still regarded him with suspicion, he had enough patients to keep him busy, many with lung conditions. The prevalence of breathing problems puzzled him until Matt Corrigan, editor of the Cactus Patch Gazette, explained that most had the condition prior to moving to the territory.
“Everyone knows that the desert is good for what ails you,” Corrigan said. “It’s a regular sanitarium.”
Not all patients flourished in the desert. Little Jimmy didn’t. Nor did Miss Whitehead, a hypochondriac whose long and lengthy “organ recitals” were every bit as tiresome as a recital of Gray’s Anatomy.
But his most challenging patient by far was Donny. Caleb had known working with Donny wouldn’t be easy, but it turned out to be far more difficult than he imagined. It wasn’t just the problem of getting muscles that hadn’t been worked in years, if ever, to move. The real difficulty was getting Donny to see past his disability, and he had reached a plateau.
Today Donny’s stubborn expression came within minutes of Caleb’s arrival.
Without a word, Caleb attempted to lift Donny out of his chair. “Let go of me,” Donny said. “What are you doing?” He struggled but his weak muscles were no match for Caleb.
Caleb set Donny on the floor and rolled him over, facedown. Donny wasn’t even strong enough to raise himself on his arms. All he could do was turn his head and look up at him in confusion and maybe even fear. He looked as helpless as an upside-down desert tortoise.
“Wait till I tell my sister!”
“I’ll tell her myself and save you the trouble.” Caleb felt sorry for the youth but he knew of no other way to break through Donny’s resistance. “Let me see you get into your chair.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
Caleb sat on his haunches next to Donny’s side. “You can learn.”
Magic rolled on his back next to Donny, paws in the air. It wasn’t often that someone was on the floor at his level and he meant to make the most of it.
“See? Even Magic agrees that you can learn.” Magic’s antics usually made Donny laugh, but not today. “Getting into your chair by yourself is an important step. Eventually you’ll be able to dress without help and use the privy in private. You’ll be able to do a great many things.”
“I can’t! Don’t you understand? I’m crippled!” Head down, he slammed his fists against the floor and his face turned red.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
At the sound of Molly’s voice, Caleb stood to find Molly glaring at him, her green eyes smoldering with fury.
“This is part of his training and—”
“Pick him up. Now!” She waited in seething silence until Caleb had returned Donny to his chair. “I wish to speak to you outside,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She stormed from the room.
Caleb squeezed Donny’s shoulder. “Think about what I said.” He glanced at Magic curled up by the wheelchair and left the room, hoping to quell the confrontation with Molly he knew awaited him. Somehow he had to make her understand his methods. Each step forward was followed by two steps back, but he had no intention of giving up and he didn’t want her to give up either.
She stood on the verandah, hands on her hips, looking ready to fight him tooth and nail. Normally she wore a man’s shirt but today a yellow shirtwaist topped her divided skirt. The bright color offered a startling contrast to the dark look on her face. He could almost feel sparks flying out of her. Anger had never looked so enticing.
“How dare you treat my brother like an animal!” she fumed.
Caleb drew back in surprise. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“What else can I think? You said you would help him. You said he had improved. From what I can see, all you’ve done is make matters worse!”
“All right, I admit it. I haven’t been completely honest with you about his progress, but I will help him. I am helping him. We’re close to a breakthrough.”
“Making my brother lie helpless on the floor is no breakthrough.”
“That’s just it, Molly. Your brother is helpless.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” she snapped.
“What I’m trying to say is that he doesn’t have to be.”
“Your services are no longer required,” she said, her voice edged in ice. “I think it would be better if you just leave.” She turned but he grabbed her by the wrist and drew her close.
“What are you afraid of, Molly? Are you afraid that if your brother becomes more self-sufficient he won’t need you? Is that why you keep him confined?”
Color drained from her face and she pulled her arm away. �
��How dare you! You know nothing about me or my brother.”
“I know enough,” he said. “I know you treat him like a child and—”
Something seemed to snap inside her and she came at him with flying fists. He caught her by both arms. Her thick dark lashes flew up and they stared at each other, her flesh soft and smooth beneath his touch.
He felt a stirring inside. He wanted to bury his head in her wealth of dark hair, to follow her sweet, warm breath to its source. God help him!
Something like a flame passed between them and she shuddered as if she felt it too. The moment passed and she pulled away.
“Send me your bill,” she said, surprising him with her calm, controlled voice. Had she not felt what he felt?
“I don’t want your money.”
“Then we have no further business.” She raced into the house. Magic barely had time to scoot outside before she slammed the door shut.
Caleb stared at the space she no longer occupied. Molly was gone but he could still smell her fragrance, still remember the unexpected thrill that shot through him just before she pulled free of his grasp.
Now I’ve done it. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost a patient for lack of tact. But none of the patients he’d lost in the past bothered him more than losing Donny. He hated to admit it, but losing Molly was what he regretted most.
Donny sat on the verandah where Molly had left him earlier that day. Gaze focused on the corral in the distance, he squinted against the bright afternoon sun. A black mustang ran from one end of the corral to the other, tail high and mane flowing. Molly stood with rope in hand, forcing the horse to keep running.
The horse’s name was Lightning because he tried to run away from every new experience.
“We have to teach it that running away is not the answer,” Molly explained when Donny had questioned her.
He secretly wished the horse would run away and take him along. He almost imagined himself seated high above the pounding hooves. He often thought of the day the doctor pushed him around the courtyard. It was almost as if he were running, as if his wheels had become legs and his flapping arms had become wings. Running might not help Lightning, but it would be the answer to Donny’s prayers.
Waiting for Morning (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) Page 14
