“Where do you live, sir?”
“Just down the road, three streets over. I ran here—it was faster than preparing my horse.”
“Then I’ll do the same. Lead the way.”
Moments later, Phillip entered the man’s small cabin and knelt beside the girl’s bed. She was a tiny thing, probably three years old, blonde and blue-eyed. She appeared to be undernourished. A quick touch to her head confirmed her fever. “You say her stomach hurts?”
“Yes,” said the woman standing beside the bed. “She’s been clutching her middle.”
“Hello there,” Phillip said, addressing the child in a mild voice. He knew he could be intimidating, and hoped to overcome her fears. “Can you show me where it hurts?”
She glanced at her mother and then her father.
“It’s all right, Daisy,” her mother urged. “He’s a doctor. He’ll help you.”
The girl cast another quick look around and then pointed at her upper abdomen.
“I need to do an examination of her appendix,” Phillip said. “It would be an unusual ailment in a patient her age, but I must rule it out.”
“What do you have to do?” the mother asked.
“I must push on her stomach. It might frighten her, because I’m a stranger, and it may be painful, but if she is having an attack of the appendix, I need to know it right away. Can you hold her and speak to her while I perform the examination?”
The mother sat down on the bed and gathered Daisy into her arms. She whispered in the girl’s ear, and Daisy nodded.
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Phillip promised. He pushed with his fingertips, finding the appendix and noting it to be the correct size. Daisy just stared at him, her eyes wide. Then he felt above and below, paying attention to the girl’s facial expressions. At one point, she cried out, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
“What’s the matter with her, Doctor?” the man asked from where he stood at the foot of the bed. His young face was gray and lined with worry—he clearly loved his little daughter.
“I’m sorry—I don’t even know your names,” Phillip said, reaching out to shake hands. It was always easier to discuss a diagnosis when he could call people by name.
“I’m Harry Brown, and this is my wife, Mabel,” the father replied.
“Mr. and Mrs. Brown, I have some good news. Daisy is not having an appendix attack. I believe she’s suffering from acute gastritis, which is an inflammation of the stomach lining.”
“And that could make her throw up blood?” Mrs. Brown asked.
“Yes, it can, when it’s caused by a certain bacteria.”
“A what?”
The look on Mrs. Brown’s face mirrored the expression Phillip saw nearly every day as he tried to educate his patients. Tonight, he was too tired for the long explanation. He would go into more depth when he came back the next day to check on Daisy. “For now, just know that she will be all right. We’ll discuss how best to take care of her.” He glanced around the house for the first time. The living conditions were far from what he’d consider acceptable—there were dirt floors, and holes in the roof. He could tell, though, that Mrs. Brown tried to keep a neat house. The shelves were tidy, the table was clean, and a small fire burned in the fireplace. Poverty didn’t always mean slovenliness, but in his experience, the two went hand in hand more often than not.
He dug in his pocket and pulled out a coin. “As soon as dawn comes, go buy Daisy some milk,” he told Mr. Brown. “Just a cupful, and then go back tomorrow to get more. This coin should buy you three or four helpings. She has acids in her stomach that are burning her stomach lining, and we must cool them down.”
“How’d they get in there?” Mrs. Brown asked.
“They occur naturally in the body. They help us digest our foods, but sometimes, they become out of control. The milk will help. In the meantime, I’m going to give her one drop of laudanum in water. It will help with the pain.”
He pulled the bottle from his bag and carefully measured out just one drop. Mrs. Brown held Daisy’s head while she drank.
“Let her rest, and be sure she gets that milk. Have her sip it just a bit at a time, all right? And I’ll be back around noon to check on her.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mrs. Brown said, stroking the damp hair back from Daisy’s forehead. The girl’s cheeks were bright red, and Phillip wished there was more he could do. How often he longed for a way to see inside the human body and know how to cure it. Sometimes practicing medicine felt like a long series of guesses and hoping beyond hope that he was right.
Mr. Brown followed Phillip outside. “Thanks, Doc. I . . . I wonder what I might arrange for payment. We don’t have much, as I’m sure you can tell, but I’ll do whatever I can. I appreciate what you’ve done here.”
Phillip studied Mr. Brown. This was a man who worked hard to take care of his family. Fortune had not come his way, but it wasn’t from lack of sincere effort. Phillip could give this treatment as a gift, but he sensed that Mr. Brown preferred to work for what he received. “I’ll tell you what. The fence on the north side of my property is falling down. I don’t have any animals besides my horse, so I’m not worried about anything getting loose, but that fence is certainly an eyesore. If you could come sometime in the next week and mend it, I’d be more than happy to consider that your payment.”
Mr. Brown bobbed his head. “Yes, sir. I can do that. And thank you.”
“Thank you for helping me take care of my property. I haven’t had much time as of late.” Phillip gave a return nod and then walked home, feeling the weight of interrupted sleep pressing down on him.
Morning came far too early. He could hear Mrs. Hadley downstairs, humming as she made breakfast. He checked the time on his pocket watch—it was eight thirty. Already? He sat bolt upright and blinked a few times, trying to bring the room into focus. He must have been more exhausted than he thought.
He washed up at the basin in the corner of his room and pulled on clean clothes, then went downstairs and slumped into a chair at the table. Mrs. Hadley set a mug of coffee in front of him without saying a word, then handed over the cream and the sugar. He didn’t thank her until he’d had three full swallows. They both knew he would be incapable of speech until the hot liquid reached his stomach.
“Thank you,” he said after a long moment.
“You’re welcome. You had a call in the night?”
“I did. Do you know the Browns three streets over, have a daughter named Daisy?”
“I do. She’s a sweet little thing. Was she your patient?”
Mrs. Hadley knew just about everyone in this part of town. He’d relied on her many a time for information about his patients when there was something he needed to know. “Yes. Acute gastritis.”
Mrs. Hadley shook her head sympathetically, as though she knew exactly what he was talking about, even though he knew she didn’t. “Poor girl. Will she be all right?”
“Most likely. That will depend on a great many things. What does her father do for a living?”
“I’ve seen him mucking out stalls, mending wagon wheels, hauling loads of grain—I don’t believe he has a permanent job at all, but does whatever he can on any given day.”
Phillip nodded. “I’ve known men like that. It can be rough, trying to make a living when it seems that the jobs are few and far between. I wonder . . .”
“Hmm? What’s that?” Mrs. Hadley set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him, and he picked up his fork.
“I just wondered if he might be of use at the Brody Hotel. Tom White’s been out of commission for a bit and will be for another while yet, and Mr. Brody seems to be shouldering a lot of the work himself. I believe I’ll go pay a visit after breakfast and ask a few questions.”
“That would be wonderful. I know Mabel’s been very concerned.”
“Mabel?”
“Mrs. Brown.”
“Oh, that’s right. I believe I heard Mr. Brown say something like that.” Ph
illip forked up a few bites of egg before speaking again. “Do I have any appointments for today?”
“None that are coming here. You need to check in with Mrs. Gillespie this afternoon, and I’m guessing Daisy needs a return visit. Aside from that, you’re free.”
Until someone got a little too close to their ax, Phillip thought while he took another bite. Why had he chosen to practice clear out here, on the edge of civilization? He could have taken a position in a nice city and spent his time treating hangovers and the vapors . . . and been utterly bored. Out here, at least, he felt challenged, like he was learning something new every day. Sometimes those lessons included learning how far he could go on just a few minutes of sleep, and how much suffering he could witness before it crept into the layers of resolve he’d built around himself. Other times, it was a testament to the human spirit, and the kindness and charity neighbors showed each other in times of need.
He finished his coffee and stood. “Thank you, Mrs. Hadley. I’m heading down to the hotel, and then I’ll be back to finish up some paperwork before I visit my patients.”
“Very good. I’ll have some nice fresh bread for your lunch.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Phillip went outside and around back, where he saddled his horse. He’d be checking in on Tom White while he was at the Brody Hotel, but he could carry his bag and didn’t see the need for his buggy this morning.
When he arrived at the hotel some minutes later, he found the young ladies in their usual flurry, getting ready for the day’s first train. Mr. Brody wasn’t in his office, and Phillip didn’t know where to find him.
“Good morning, Dr. Wayment,” Miss Hampton greeted him when he entered the dining room. “May I offer you some breakfast or coffee?”
“No, thank you. I’m looking for Mr. Brody. Can you tell me where I might find him?”
“He’s out back, just beyond the smokehouse. Would you like me to show you the way?”
Phillip looked around the dining room. “I can see that you have your hands full here. I’ll be all right.” He gave her a nod and headed outside, curving around the corner of the building. Off in the distance, he could see Mr. Brody standing next to a pile of lumber with another man. They were deep in discussion, gesturing as though they could see a structure being built before their eyes.
Phillip crossed the yard, and Mr. Brody turned at his approach. “Dr. Wayment,” he greeted, holding out his hand in welcome. “What brings you by? Not an emergency with Tom, I hope.”
“Actually, I’m here to see you, Mr. Brody.”
“Please, call me Adam. And why do you need to see me? I’ve never felt better. Having a new wife will do that to you, I believe.”
Phillip laughed. “Indeed it will, although I’ve never experienced it myself. I’ve come to ask if you have enough laborers here on your property.”
Adam motioned for the doctor to follow him, and they walked over to the pump, where Adam took a long drink. “It’s hot out here today,” he commented. “Let’s sit on the porch, where there’s shade.”
After they were settled into their chairs, their hats on their laps, Phillip resumed what he’d been saying. “There’s a man in town by the name of Harry Brown. I treated his little daughter early this morning for acute gastritis. In her case, I’m quite sure the cause was food contamination.”
“Is that a painful condition?” Adam asked.
“It is, and especially in one so young who hasn’t lived long enough to experience much.” Phillip shook his head. “Food contamination is the bane of my existence as a doctor. It seems that the vast majority of cases I treat are linked directly to the improper storage or handling of food. I spoke at some length about Louis Pasteur the night we fixed Tom’s leg—those scientific findings must be applied to the way we think of food. A three-year-old child shouldn’t have to suffer because of a lack of knowledge or the tools to implement that knowledge.”
Adam nodded. “I agree. What can be done?”
“Sadly, I don’t know. These findings are being discussed much more widely in the east, and they’re trickling out here slowly—just like everything else arrives here. I came west to feel like I was doing some real good, but at times, I find it more frustrating than anything.”
“So continued discussion and education is key,” Adam said, gently prodding Phillip to continue his thought.
“Yes. The people need to understand. Additionally, they need more income so they can buy better food to start with. Which is why I’ve come to see you.”
Adam nodded. “Ah, now we get to the meat of the matter, if you’ll pardon the pun. Tell me what I can do for you, Doctor.”
“Harry Brown is the father of the little girl in question, as I mentioned. He’s somewhat of a jack of all trades and does a fair bit of carpentry, from what I can gather. I wondered if you had a temporary place for him here at the hotel, perhaps to fill in where Tom had to stop. If Harry had a steady source of income for a time, he’d be able to feed his family better food, and their overall health would improve.”
Adam shifted a little in his chair to face Phillip more directly. “I could use another man, and that’s a fact. We’re still working on the construction of the new family quarters for myself and Mrs. Brody, and of course my handyman decided to marry one of my maids. We’re putting together a small cottage for them at the back of the property, where you saw us just now. That was Mr. Hancock, a builder temporarily on loan. He’s a good worker, but he’s heading out on the railroad in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh, so that’s what you’re building.”
“It won’t be fancy, but it will be theirs, away from the bustle of the hotel itself. For some reason, Tom thought his new wife would prefer that over moving into the barn loft with him.”
“I wonder why he would think that.”
Both men chuckled. “Please send Mr. Brown by,” Adam said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep him on, finances being what they are, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you. You’re doing a good thing.” Phillip rose and shook Adam’s hand. “Now I believe I’ll go check on my patient on your second floor.”
Chapter Three
Jeanette heard Dr. Wayment’s voice coming from Tom’s room. Well, Tom and Harriet’s room, now that they were married. She smoothed down her apron and stood ready in the hall when he came out.
“Dr. Wayment, may I speak with you?”
“Ah, yes, Miss Peterson. I needed to speak with you as well.” He cleared his throat. “But please, go ahead.”
“All right. I spoke with Mr. Brody, and he’s in favor of our arrangement. He just asks that I wait to start working for you until he can find a suitable replacement for me. He’s going to place an advertisement today, so hopefully, it won’t be long.”
“Yes. Er, about that.” The doctor suddenly looked uncomfortable. “After giving it some thought, I’ve decided I was too quick to offer you the position. I do work best alone, and I feel I should continue that way.”
Jeanette’s heart sank. He had changed his mind, just as she’d feared he would. Perhaps it was all for the best. It had been a foolish ambition, after all. She most likely wasn’t clever enough to learn the necessary skills.
But at this thought, something sparked inside her. No, this was not foolish. This was what she wanted, and she had every right to pursue it. She was up for this challenge, no matter what anyone else said or tried to make her believe.
Emboldened, she spoke up. “Might I ask why?”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m curious as to why. Last night, after the wedding, you seemed very agreeable to the idea. Did something happen between now and then? Did I do something to make you lose confidence in me?”
“No, no, it was nothing like that,” the doctor said, waving one hand. “I just had a change of heart, that’s all. Nothing personal. You understand.”
Jeanette hated being dismissed, and she wasn’t about
to let this go so easily—especially when he seemed determined to treat her like a child. “No, actually, I don’t understand. You must forgive me for asking, Dr. Wayment, but it seems odd to me that you’d be so quick to change your mind. You must also forgive me for wanting this so very badly, but I do, and if you’re to take it away from me, I believe I’m entitled to an explanation.” She was slightly out of breath by the time she came to the end of her speech. She’d never stood up for herself like that before, and she hardly knew what to do with the emotions coursing through her. She felt angry and yet energized, more alive than she had in some time.
“I merely analyzed my work habits and realized that having someone underfoot would be a hindrance. If you’ll excuse me, Miss Peterson, I do need to go check on another patient. You’ll be glad to hear that Tom’s doing quite well today.” He nodded and touched the brim of his hat.
“Wait!” She reached out and caught his sleeve before he could descend the staircase. “Underfoot? Is that what you think I’d be? I have to tell you, Doctor, I find that insulting. You make it sound as though I’d be nothing more than a puppy yipping around your ankles. If that’s really your opinion of me, then I do think it’s best that we’re bringing this relationship to an end right now and saving ourselves both some grief. I’m not some animal, and I refuse to be treated like one.”
“Well, now, that’s not exactly what I meant,” he began, but he was interrupted by the final whistle of the train as it pulled into the station.
“Good day, Doctor. I must get to work. I trust you know your way out.” Jeanette picked up her skirts and trotted down the staircase to join the other girls who had lined up in the hallway, ready to greet the passengers who would soon disembark. She glanced back to see him standing at the head of the stairs, looking at her with a curious expression on his face. Perhaps she’d embarrassed him. That hadn’t been her intention, but she didn’t have time to think about it just then. People began to enter the building, and they were hungry.
Jeanette moved between the tables, taking orders and relaying them to Miss Hampton in the kitchen. She noticed that Dr. Wayment had taken a seat in the back of the room. That was Olivia’s table—Jeanette wouldn’t have to deal with him, which was a blessing. She didn’t know if she could concentrate on her job while forcing down her disappointed feelings at the same time. She could feel his eyes on her, though, and she turned once to see him studying her. Why was he still here? He’d said he needed to go check on a patient.
The Dark and the Dawn (Kansas Crossroads Book 3) Page 2
