Sage

by Cindy Caldwell

  “Thank you, Miss Archer,” Clint said.

  “Oh, please call me Tarra,” she said as she looked around the waiting room.

  “And I’m actually Sage’s twin sister, Saffron. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson. Welcome to Tombstone, and I’m sorry it’s under such unfortunate circumstances.” Saffron gave him a sympathetic smile, which he returned.

  “It’s very nice to meet you both as well,” Clint said.

  Tarra took another look at the boxes, then turned to Saffron.

  “Thank you for helping me with this delivery. My assistant at the post office had to run out, and with the postmaster taken ill—it’s all I can do to keep up with everything.”

  “I’m happy to help,” Saffron said. “It’s nice to see you both. Now that I’m out of the house, I miss you all terribly. It’s a good thing we have Sunday suppers to look forward to.”

  Sage smiled at the thought of the Archer tradition they’d been able to continue, even though most of her siblings were married now.

  “Will you be coming Sunday?” Sage asked Saffron. Tarra wasn’t married and of course would be attending as she still lived at the ranch.

  “We will be there,” Saffron replied. She caught Sage’s eye and tilted her head in Clint’s direction.

  Sage wasn’t certain what she was doing, and Saffron let out an exasperated breath before turning to Clint.

  “Mr. Jackson, we are all quite fond of your father, and if he were able, we’d be anxious to see him for Sunday supper. Would you like to join us? We would all be interested in hearing more about you.”

  Clint looked down at his boots and then at Sage.

  “I’m not sure there’s much interesting to say,” he modestly replied.

  Tarra spun back toward them, a grin crossing her face as she looked from Clint to Sage.

  “I heard through the grapevine that you’re in medical school. And Sage has quite a fondness for doctors. It would be wonderful if you would come,” she said before she headed for the door.

  Saffron took in an audible breath and Sage felt her cheeks heat and she’d half a mind to say something to Tarra—but of course she couldn’t. She was already out the door and Clint would have heard her anyway. She’d have to wait until she got home to tell that busybody of a sister to mind her own.

  “Uh, well, I’m not sure how interesting that would be, I would be delighted to join you, given my father is resting peacefully at the time. Thank you for the invitation.”

  “That’s wonderful, Mr. Jackson. We will look forward to seeing you Sunday afternoon,” she said, but she mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to Sage as she glared out the window at Tarra.

  As Saffron reached the door, she turned back to Sage.

  “Oh, Carol asked if it might be possible for you to stop by sometime soon for a visit,” she said, her hand on the latch. “She said she’s had a few appointments scheduled with Dr. Folsom but he’s not been here when she arrived. You know it’s a little more challenging for her to get here, so she thought if maybe you were willing to stop by—”

  “Of course,” Sage said, a flash of irritation rising in her chest. Each time Carol had arrived for an appointment, Will pushing her in the office with her chair on wheels, she’d been embarrassed to tell her that the doctor wasn’t in.

  Dr. Folsom’s office door swung open. Saffron scooted out onto the boardwalk as the Widow Samson and the doctor entered the waiting room.

  It had been an eventful day already, and Sage braced herself for what might come next.

  Chapter 16

  Clint took a step back as the woman in black swept into the waiting room. He’d spent enough time in his father’s funeral parlor to know the signs of a widow, and he found himself wishing her peace over her recent loss.

  “Thank you, doctor. As ever, you are a Godsend.”

  The doctor nodded his head, as if in agreement, it seemed to Clint.

  “You are too kind, Mrs. Samson,” he replied. “Please let me know how you’re feeling, and if your treatment has helped your situation.”

  The widow waved her hand at him as she turned toward the door.

  “I have no doubt that my pain will lessen now with your brilliant work.”

  She nodded at Sage and looked briefly in his direction before she walked out onto the boardwalk, tapping her cane as she went.

  The doctor watched her hobble down the stairs and stuck his thumbs in his satin vest, nodding with satisfaction. Clint wanted to know exactly what the doctor had done for her, but knew it was none of his business.

  His attention was eventually drawn to the large boxes that sat in the patient chairs, and he quickly glanced over at Sage.

  “Where did these come from?” he asked.

  “Tarra brought them from the post office. They’re for you,” she said and she reached down to pick up one of the boxes.

  The doctor leapt quickly toward the box.

  “No, no, I’ll get it. They need to be in my office.”

  Clint reached for the other box and the doctor practically jumped in front of him.

  “No, thank you. I’ll get it. Don’t you two have somewhere you need to be?” he asked as he backed into the door to his office, his eyes not leaving the other box. Clint thought he heard the faint sound of glass clinking as the doctor set the box down in his office.

  Sage and Clint glanced at each other and Sage shrugged her shoulders. She reached for her coat and Clint beat her to it, helping her pull it on.

  He opened the door for her as he placed his hat on and followed her out the door.

  She stopped for a moment and peered back in before he shut the door behind them.

  “That was odd, don’t you think?” he said.

  She shook her head slowly.

  “This entire day has been odd, I must confess.”

  “How did he respond to what happened with the miner, Mr. Chapman?” he asked as they turned toward the funeral parlor.

  She raised her eyebrows and shrugged again.

  “Honestly, he didn’t even ask. When I got back, he wasn’t here and we talked about...something else for a moment,” she said quietly and he turned to her. Something in her voice sounded odd, but she didn’t offer any more information, and he certainly didn’t know her well enough to press.

  Clint looked up and down the boardwalk. The flurry of buggies, pedestrians and buckboards hadn’t seemed to stop all day.

  “Does this town never sleep?” he asked, pulling his watch from his pocket and taking a peek at it. It was very late, and he wondered if these people ever rested. It didn’t seem so.

  Sage laughed as she held her hand over her eyes against the setting desert sun.

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t. The miners work twenty-four hours a day in different shifts. If they get off at midnight, there are establishments still open to serve them.”

  “Hm. I thought New York had a fair amount of night life but twenty-four hours a day? I can’t imagine.”

  He stifled a yawn and wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to these hours.

  “It’s only like this here in town, and mostly here on Allen Street,” she said. “The Bird Cage theater does a brisk business and never closes. But once you get off the main streets, it’s a pretty quiet town. The ranch is very quiet, actually.”

  “Is it?” he asked. “Then I will look forward to visiting on Sunday, and I appreciate the invitation.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me. I didn’t invite you. Tarra just can’t—”

  She seemed to catch herself and she turned to him, her eyes wide.

  “Oh, my goodness, I didn’t mean that I—I mean, I’m happy you’re coming for supper.”

  Clint didn’t even try to hide his amusement at her faux pas. Her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed, or was subdued—mostly all the time, and he thought she was quite charming. Even in this predicament.

  “No offense taken. Even though you don’t want me to come, I am still happy to accept.”

  “I d
idn’t say I didn’t want you to come!” she cried, and it wasn’t until she stopped him, saw that he was stifling a laugh, that she feigned hitting him on the elbow.

  “Oh, you’re teasing again, aren’t you? You’re terrible.”

  “It’s awfully fun to get a rise out of you. And I must say, it doesn’t take much. You’re awfully serious.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “I’m not, really. Not always,” she said, looking over her shoulder back at the doctor’s office. “It’s just that...well, there’s been quite a bit going on, between our visit to the miner, your father’s decline and the doctor’s odd behavior.”

  Clint didn’t know what her daily life was like before he’d come to town, but he could agree that it seemed like quite a bit in one day.

  They fell silent as they walked toward the funeral home. When they reached the establishment, he gestured toward the door.

  “Would you like to come in? I imagine that Mrs. Baxter has supper ready at this late hour.”

  Sage looked up and down the street.

  “Thank you for the offer, and I would like to check in on your father but I have a stop to make before I get home. My friend Carol has asked to see me, and as she doesn’t normally ask for that favor, I’d like to visit as soon as possible.”

  “Oh? Would you like me to escort you as the hour is so late?”

  Sage looked perplexed.

  “Late? It’s not late yet. Plenty of time for me to stop by to see her and get home in time for supper.”

  Clint shook his head. The hours people kept on the western frontier baffled him.

  “Are you certain? I can wait for supper. Your housekeepers lunch was delectable. Thank you for sharing it. As a matter of fact, I brought your basket back but neglected to give it to you.”

  Sage nodded.

  “Maria is an outstanding cook, and I’m sorry I wasn’t available to describe the different types of food she’d packed.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Allen joined us and was quite knowledgeable about the things I’d never seen before. I look forward to learning more on Sunday.”

  “Good. I look forward to seeing you then. Tomorrow is Saturday and I’m still concerned about the tonics. I hope to do some more research later when I get home. Maybe by the time you come out, I’ll have solved the mystery as to why they’re not working.”

  “No what-if’s, remember?”

  She nodded as she pulled on her gloves.

  “Thank you for that, but I still have a responsibility to find something that does work, if those don’t. Thank you for accompanying me today, and I’ll see you Sunday.”

  She smiled and waved as she waited for a break in the buggies, lifted her skirts a tad and crossed the road.

  He watched for a moment as she strode down the boardwalk on the opposite side of the street, and although he hadn’t known her long, he was confident that her mind had already turned to the problem at hand—how to help her patients.

  She seemed determined, and he was comforted that his father was one of the people she chose to help. Her kindness and concern were admirable, and he truly believed that if it was within her power, she’d find a solution. And he would do everything in his power to help as well.

  Chapter 17

  Sage flipped the pages of her book as she searched for the exact herb she was looking for. The familiar scent of the old, musty journal settled her nerves, and she could almost hear her mother’s voice rising from the pages. She reminded herself to be gentle—it was the remedy book her mother had left for her and over the years it had become fragile, its dog-eared pages faded to a light brown.

  She started at the sound of thud on the workbench beside her. She blinked slowly at the brown wrapping paper and looked up to see her sister, Tarra, leaning against the door jamb of the small room to the side of her mother’s casita where she made her tonics.

  “Sage. Haven’t you heard me calling for you?”

  “Hm?” Sage replied as she flipped more pages.

  “Honestly, I don’t know how you can do this day after day. It’s Sunday, and you should be resting or something.”

  Tarra nudged the package on the workbench beside Sage’s brown tonic bottles.

  “I think you got some more elderberries. Too bad they don’t grow out here in the desert. I brought it home for you from the post office the other day but forgot to give it to you with all the commotion at the doctor’s office.”

  Sage blinked a few more times and then looked up at her sister again. She hadn’t heard a word she’d said, but she noticed the package of elderberries next to her and nodded her thanks before going back to her book.

  Tarra sidled over to the bench, her skirts swishing as she leaned against it. Sage felt her eyes over her shoulder, and she sighed deeply. Apparently, Tarra wanted something and she knew her well enough to resign herself to continued harassment until she gave her sister her full attention.

  “What do you want?”

  Tarra pouted and took a step back.

  “Is that any way to treat your favorite sister?”

  They both were well aware that there were too many Archer sisters for any one of them to be anybody’s favorite, so she decided to ignore her.

  “Thank you for the package. And for delivering to the doctor. I can’t quite figure out what he got, but I appreciate you bringing it over.”

  Tarra studied her fingernails and smoothed her skirts.

  “I don’t mind at all. The previous postmaster wouldn’t have liked it at all. He always said we are not in the delivery business, like it was a rule or something. But we don’t have a lot of room in that tiny space, and until the new postmaster comes, I suppose I can do whatever I want.”

  Sage took a slow glance at her sister. And if she was asked, she’d agree that ‘doing whatever she wanted’ was Tarra’s life motto. And not just at the post office.

  “Well, I appreciate it,” Sage said as she turned back to her book.

  Tarra walked slowly around the room and wiped her finger along the jars of herbs with the neatly-handwritten labels—some still in their mother’s hand.

  “You know, I would spend all my days delivering packages if I could. The doctor alone gets quite a few and we don’t really have space in our tiny post office, but he usually picks them up.”

  Sage frowned as her ears perked up. She turned toward her sister, who was twisting a brown curl around her finger as she looked out the window.

  “He does?”

  “Oh, yes. Almost every day. From all kinds of places.”

  “Hm, I wonder what they are,” Sage said aloud before she could stop herself.

  “I can try to find out if you’d like,” Tarra offered.

  Sage stiffened. While Tarra had always been one to do whatever she wanted, she also had not always been able to mind her own business, and Sage had learned long ago that the less she told Tarra, the better.

  “No, thank you. I appreciate you bringing the elderberries. You can go now,” she said.

  “Well, that’s not very nice, Sage Archer. Here I bring you your package, take the doctor his boxes, even come to fetch you for Maria. Why, I even invited over your handsome friend for supper. You could be a little more grateful.”

  Grateful? Sage wasn’t exactly grateful. If her sisters—particularly Tarragon and Pepper—were as horrid to her as they where when Dr. Folsom came for supper, it would be unbearable. Rather than threaten her with bodily harm, which had never worked in the past, she decided to try a new method.

  “You’re absolutely right, Tarra. You are so kind and helpful to me, and I do so appreciate it. I could never keep up with the post office as you do. It’s quite a busy place.”

  She paused a moment to see if her attempt was working. She didn’t need to wait long.

  “Well, I really do like to help. It makes me happy,” Tarra said, her smile brightening.

  “And it was so kind of you to invite Mr. Jackson. It was very thoughtful of you, although the two of us barely kno
w each other.”

  Tarra smiled again and winked at her sister.

  “You have to admit, he is terribly handsome. Kind and charming, too. And if that insufferable Dr. Folsom isn’t interested, maybe—”

  Sage bit her lip to try to stay on course. The last thing she wanted was for Clint to be embarrassed at supper by her younger sisters, and this was the only way she would be able to head that off at the pass.

  “Tarra, you know the circumstances surrounding his father. It’s a very trying and sad time for everyone. He’s here for just a while to be with his ill father. It’s hardly the time for matchmaking. Surely you understand, and you’ll do everything you can—as I plan to do—to not make supper uncomfortable for him. It’s not a time for matchmaking, but a solemn time for serious reflection.”

  Sage tried to look as serious as she could, even sad, and glanced over at Tarra to see if she was taking the bait.

  “Oh, I do suppose you’re right. That would be inappropriate, and insensitive. I certainly wouldn’t want to be like that.”

  Sage turned back to her book and covered her smile with her fingers. She couldn’t be positive, but it appeared she’d met with success, and Tarra would feel responsible for helping to make Clint comfortable—and not get started with Pepper with relentless teasing, either before or during supper.

  “You can count on me, Sage. What are sisters for?” Tarra said as she opened the door, preparing to leave.

  Sage stifled a full laugh now, hoping she could hold out until Tarra closed the door behind her, but she turned back to Sage once more.

  “By the way, I was sent here primarily to tell you Maria needs help in the kitchen. It’s your turn to help with supper.”

  Sage groaned and looked back toward her book. She’d dearly wanted to finish her research in order to make some more tonic for Mr. Jackson so that she could take it to him tomorrow.

  Tarra shifted her weight and glanced back at the kitchen.

  “Under the circumstances, I would be happy to take your place. I believe we’re having pot roast tonight. As long as I don’t have to spend hours making empanadas as you like to, I am willing to make the sacrifice.”