by HELEN HARDT
“Afternoon, Miss Ruth,” Doc Potter said, stopping alongside her buckboard.
Ruth halted Miranda. “Goodness, Doc, is something the matter with my ma? My pa?”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I was just paying a call.” He smiled.
Relieved, Ruth released a breath. “I’m glad to hear that. I was a tad worried when I saw you.”
“No need to be. All’s fine. Good day.” He urged his team forward.
Ruth arrived home, tended Miranda, and then strolled into the little house. Her mother was kneading on the wooden table in the small kitchen.
“Afternoon, dear.”
“Ma, what was Doc Potter doing here this afternoon? I saw him on my way home and he nearly scared me silly. I thought something had happened to you or Pa.”
“Nothing like that, I assure you.” Her mother wiped her floured hands on her apron and smiled at Ruth. She pulled out a chair from under the table. “Sit down with me for a minute. I’ll tell you.”
“Where’s Pa?”
“In the fields. He’ll be in for supper later.” Molly Blackburn sat down across from Ruth. “I have some wonderful news.”
“Oh?”
“Doc Potter came to talk to Pa.”
“About what?”
“About you, Ruth.” Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “He wants to court you.”
Ruth barely stopped her jaw from dropping to the floor. Court her? After all this time, a man wanted to court her?
“Ma, he’s too short.”
“Goodness, Ruth. If you’re determined to wait for a man taller than you, I’m afraid you’ll be waiting a while.”
“Pa’s taller than I am. So is Naomi’s Bobby.” And so was Garth Mackenzie, but that was neither here nor there.
“Ben Potter is a nice looking man, and my goodness he’s not a dwarf. He’s average-sized. He’s warm and intelligent, and he’s a doctor, Ruth. He can offer you a good life. A life filled with luxuries your pa and I weren’t able to give you and your sister.”
“Hogwash, Ma.”
“Watch your mouth, young lady!”
“I apologize. But really, he may be a doctor, but he’s a doctor here in Dugan. He gets paid in chickens and rotten apples. He lives over the general store, for goodness’ sake. I’m sure he can support a wife and family, but life with him would be far from luxurious.”
“So it’s luxury you want?”
“No.” Ruth stood and paced three steps across the small kitchen. “Stop twisting my words around. I was responding to your claim that Doc could give me luxuries that you and Pa couldn’t. You know I don’t care about any of that stuff. I never have.”
“Well, then, I don’t see the issue, Ruth. I should think you’d be happy a man finally came courting.”
Ruth sighed. That’s what it always came down to. She wrenched her hands in the folds of her skirt. “You and pa can finally be rid of your old maid daughter, is that it?”
“Goodness, of course not. But you’re a beautiful girl, Ruth. You’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”
Ruth sat back down and clumped her elbows on the table. “I’d say most of the men in town don’t see it, Ma, or they’d have come around before now.”
“Most of the men in town are intimidated by you. And why wouldn’t they be? Not only are you beautiful, but you’re easily the most intelligent person in this town. That’s been clear since you could talk. Everyone knows it. You can out think anyone here, and you’re not afraid to give your opinion.” She sighed. “And some are no doubt bothered by your height.”
“You’re tall. Naomi’s tall.” Ruth looked to the ceiling. “Why did I have to be the one who grew to freakish proportions?”
“You’re five-feet-eleven, Ruth. Hardly a freak of nature. I’m five-feet-nine, and so is Naomi.”
“Those two inches make all the difference, Ma.”
“It’s not your height that has kept men away, dear. It’s their own insecurities. You’re brilliant. And opinionated. And beautiful.”
Ruth met her mother’s blue gaze. “I’m not beautiful, Ma, and I wish you’d quit saying that. Naomi is beautiful. I’m plain. Average. A C.”
“That is simply untrue. You’re just as physically appealing as your sister, but in a different way. Your sister has your father’s eyes. Those are a blessing. I’ll grant you that. But your eyes are no less attractive. They’re just like my mother’s—such a dark blue they appear almost black at times. They’re lovely.”
Lovely? She’d never thought so. But Garth had said her eyes were lovely. Her skin warmed. Land sakes, this Dakota heat was unbearable.
“Doc Potter is an intelligent man,” her mother continued. “Medical school is difficult, impossible for many. But not for him. So there’s no reason why your intelligence would intimidate him. In fact, he most likely finds it attractive. A man secure in his own intelligence won’t be threatened by another’s. Even if she is a woman.”
“There’s still the issue that I tower over him.”
“You hardly tower over him. You’re an inch or two taller, that’s all.”
Lord above, her mother was right. Ruth should be pleased such a fine man wanted to court her. Ben Potter had dark hair and eyes, an infectious smile. Yes, he was handsome. She couldn’t deny that. Always smiling, the doc. Why didn’t he court one of the frilly younger girls? All of whom were in his height range. Any one of them would be thrilled to accept his suit.
“The doc has asked to escort you home from church on Sunday,” Ma continued, “by way of Hattie’s.”
The restaurant? New to the town, Hattie’s sat in an exalted spot less than a block from the church building. Ruth hadn’t set foot in the eatery. Why spend money on such a frivolity when Ma’s meals were as good as any she’d eaten in her life?
“That’s silly, Ma. Why don’t we just invite him over here after church?”
“He’s been here for dinner before,” Ma said. “I think he’d like the chance to converse with you alone, dear.”
“We’ve conversed alone on numerous occasions. Why, just the other day I spoke to him about one of my students. She nearly fainted in the schoolhouse.”
Her mother smiled. “I think he’d like to talk to you about other things, Ruth. Not your job or his. Get to know you on a more personal level.”
Lord above. A personal level. Her fingers, seemingly of their own accord, trailed across her bottom lip. Personal level? She’d never spoken to any man on a personal level. But her encounter with Garth Mackenzie this morning had gone way beyond personal. Tiny shivers raced along her skin.
Shivers. Shivers she hadn’t felt since she was an adolescent and she’d fancied herself in love with her older schoolmate, Byron Harris, who’d only had eyes for Naomi. Naomi didn’t return his feelings, and Byron eventually married another and left Dugan.
Ruth hadn’t felt those shivers since.
Until now. Truth be told, the current shivers made Byron’s seem like mere goose bumps from the cold air. Not what was prickling along her body now, no sir.
These were frissons of excitement. Of fear. Of longing.
Of pure raw need.
And not due to Ben Potter. The good doc had never made her feel hot and cold at the same time.
Land sakes, this little house was hotter than blazes.
The soft caress of Garth Mackenzie’s lips against hers invaded her thoughts, but she brushed it away.
Best make do with what she had. A lesson learned long ago as a preacher’s daughter, and a lesson she’d be well advised to put to use now.
“Fine, Ma. I will accompany Doc Potter to Hattie’s on Sunday.”
And she’d try like the dickens not to wish he were Garth Mackenzie.
Chapter Five
Ruth felt conspicuous. All eyes were upon her. What was the preacher’s spinster daughter doing dining with the town doctor at Hattie’s?
That’s what they were all thinking. She knew it.
Well, not all. Only seven other peo
ple graced the small dining room. Ruth had often wondered if a restaurant would make it in Dugan. Most of the townspeople she knew weren’t likely to spend their hard-earned money for a luxurious meal.
Luxurious it was, too. A fried steak that took up nearly her whole plate, served with string beans, mashed potatoes, and buttered cornbread. The cornbread was flavored with white sugar, too. Delectable.
Doc Potter was easy to converse with. At least he used to be. They’d conversed many times before. But something was different now. A tension, tight as a bow string, hung in the air almost visibly between them.
He asked questions about her childhood, and she responded in kind, and then asked the same of him. He’d grown up in Iowa, the son of a shopkeeper. He was thirty years old.
Such a nice man.
Why couldn’t she get those shivers?
“Miss Blackburn,” he said, “I’d like permission to use your first name.”
Gracious. “I suppose that would be all right, Doc.”
“Thank you…Ruth. Please call me Ben.”
“Of course, Ben.” Lord above, it sounded all wrong.
“May I call on you some evening this week?”
“Well, Doc…er, I mean Ben…this is the last week of school. I’m likely to be quite tuckered in the evenings.”
“Oh.” He looked down.
She’d disappointed him. Drat. She’d said the wrong thing. Why wasn’t she better at this? Some women were born to coquettishness. Not her.
“But you could still call, I suppose. I’d enjoy a walk around the farm. It will be…refreshing after a long day in that hot schoolhouse.”
His mahogany eyes brightened. “I’d enjoy that very much, Ruth. How about Wednesday evening?”
She nodded. “That would be fine.”
“Excellent. I’ll look forward to it.”
An aproned serving girl whisked their plates away. Ruth had left half of her meat. She normally had the appetite of a starving adolescent boy, but eating in front of a man—a man who was interested in courting her—unnerved her.
“Piece of pie or cake for either of you?” the girl asked.
“Ruth?” Doc looked at her expectantly.
“Goodness, no. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“Then I’ll pass as well,” Doc said.
“Not on my account. Have a dessert if you’d like.”
“I’m adequately sated,” he said, “though a cup of tea would be nice.”
“You, ma’am?” the girl asked.
“Uh…yes, of course. Tea would be lovely.”
The tea was strong and delicious. Darjeeling, Ben called it. From India. Much smoother than the tea Ma served at home. When they had finished, he escorted her out of the restaurant and back to the church where his team and black buggy waited.
Glory, Ruth had never ridden in a buggy before. Doc helped her up into the comfortable cushioned seats. It was a half hour ride to her pa’s farm. Though comfort wouldn’t be an issue, Ruth worried about finding another half hour’s worth of conversation topics.
Well, sake’s alive, he’d invited her out. Why not let him find a suitable subject to talk about? She let out a shaky breath.
Ben talked a little about his experience at university as they drove along the beaten road to Pa’s farm. The man had led an interesting life, and Ruth found herself listening with rapt attention, until he stopped talking and thick tension rose between them.
“Ruth.”
“Yes?”
“I suppose…” His words faded, and he moved the reins to one hand and laid the other on top of hers. “I suppose you understand why I asked to see you today. And why I’d like to go walking with you this week.”
“Well, of course, Doc…er, Ben. Ma spoke to me.”
Doc cleared his throat. Crimson rose along his neck to his cheeks. Ruth turned and looked straight ahead at the bounding prairie.
“You see, I’ve come to admire you a great deal, and I’d like for us to get to know each other, with the eventual goal being marriage.”
Ruth’s mouth dropped below her chin, and she turned to regard Doc’s profile. Marriage? After one outing he spoke of marriage? What did one say to such a proposal?
Before she could reply, Doc’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a gulp. “Well, I feel we are compatible intellectually. And physically.”
She jolted. “Physically? What on earth do you mean?”
“Well…we would…produce children of optimal size and intelligence.”
Size? Land sakes. Ruth’s dander prickled the back of her neck. She reined it in. “I’m very flattered, but—”
“I’m not asking for an answer today,” Doc said.
He squeezed her hand lightly. Funny, no sparks. Yet she sizzled at the slightest brush of Garth Mackenzie’s hand.
“I certainly wouldn’t presume to give you an answer today.”
Doc opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the thudding gallop of a horse’s hooves rambled up behind them.
Ruth stiffened against the cushioned back of the buggy seat. “Doc, what is it?” Her breath hitched as she imagined a masked outlaw. She doubted Doc was armed.
“I don’t know.” He urged the horses into a gallop, when a chilling voice rent through the air.
“Doc! Stop! Please!”
Doc halted the buggy, and a horse galloped up next to them, manned by a very large, very frazzled Garth Mackenzie.
“Thank God,” he said. “I need you. It’s Mary Alice.”
Ruth’s heart plummeted. “What’s wrong with Mary Alice?”
“She fainted again. I can’t wake her. Please, Doc, you’ve got to come.”
“Of course, we’ll follow you.”
Garth galloped into the distance and Doc followed. Ruth braced her feet against the floor of the buggy and grasped the side to keep from bouncing into Doc’s lap.
“I apologize for this inconvenience, Ruth,” Doc said over the thundering hooves.
“Gracious, this isn’t an inconvenience. This is your job. I hope I can be of some assistance.”
Ruth’s belly churned with worry for Mary Alice. Perhaps this would be the wakeup call Garth Mackenzie needed. He couldn’t work that poor girl to death. She prayed silently the rest of the way to the small ranch.
When they arrived, Doc didn’t help her down from the buggy. No matter, he had his patient on his mind. She understood. She readied to climb down herself when Garth Mackenzie appeared at her side, offering his hand. Her jaw dropped open and she sucked in a shallow breath.
She took his outstretched hand, and a tingle shot through her. She looked up and met his dark and worried gaze.
“I’m glad you’re here, Miss Blackburn,” he said. “You’ll be a comfort to Mary Alice.”
“Of course I’ll do what I can, Mr. Mackenzie,” she said. “What happened?”
“I…” He seemed to stumble for words. “I have to take care of my horse, and then Doc’s. Just go on in and I’ll explain later.”
“Mr. Mackenzie, the horses will be fine for a few minutes. You need to explain the situation to Doc so he knows what he’s dealing with.”
His eyes glazed over, as if he were looking through her. “Horses. I have to attend the horses.”
“Goodness. All right.” Ruth smoothed her mussed skirts and headed for the house, praying again for the child who had come to mean more to her than a student should.
She hurried into the small home and found Doc in a tiny bedroom off the front room—which was in disarray again—bending over a pale Mary Alice.
“Doc?”
“She’s come to, Ruth.” He pressed a moistened cloth to her forehead. “Fill the basin with cool water for her.”
Ruth breathed a thick sigh of relief. She’d awakened. “Yes, of course. Right away.”
She grabbed the basin and hurried out the back way through the lean-to. The rain barrel was nearly empty. Where was the pump? Was there a pump? She scanned her surroundings. To her left, she saw
Garth exit a stable and begin walking toward the house. She ran to him.
“Mr. Mackenzie, I need fresh water for Mary Alice. Where is your well?”
His glossy eyes looked through her again. “Don’t have one. We fetch water from the little creek yonder.” He pointed.
“Thank you. Do tell Doc I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She turned, but he gripped her arm, almost knocking the basin out of her grasp.
“Ruth.”
She looked up, and his eyes burned into hers. He wasn’t looking through her this time. “Yes?”
“Mary Alice?”
Ruth smiled her biggest smile. “She’s awake. Go on into her. I’ll get the water.”
Was that a return smile? His lips edged upward ever so slightly. Then he turned toward the house, his pace increasing in speed.
As Ruth returned from the creek, she wished she had grabbed a pail for the water. It sloshed over the sides of the basin to the point she wasn’t sure any would be left by the time she reached Mary Alice. She did her best to walk slowly and carefully, but her concern took over and she nearly ran.
When she entered the small bedroom, Mary Alice was sitting up in bed. Doc sat next to her, and Garth paced at the foot of the bed.
“I hope I didn’t take too long, Doc. Here’s the water.” She set the basin on a bureau.
“Thank you, Ruth,” Doc said.
“How is Mary Alice?” she asked.
“I was just telling Mr. Mackenzie, her heartbeat is strong and she appears well hydrated. No fever. There doesn’t seem to be any reason for her swoon.”
“Oh? Perhaps she’s a bit overworked?”
Garth scowled at that remark, but she held her ground. The man needed to stop insisting the child spend her life doing chores.
“She may be a little fatigued,” Doc said. “But still, she seems healthy enough.” He looked to Garth. “This child needs to stay in bed for a few days. No chores. No nothing.”
“But you just said there’s nothing wrong with her,” Garth said.
“I said there’s nothing wrong with her that I can see. But something caused this faint, Mr. Mackenzie. Doctors don’t always have all the answers. That’s why it’s called the practice of medicine.”
