Mistletoe Mistake

by Caroline Clemmons

  If Riley hadn’t planned to get wet, he would have been upset. Once he climbed into the water, Sylvester hopped in with him. He sure hoped all the vermin stayed in the water and not the drops flying off the dog when he shook.

  Once Riley was dressed and they left the bathhouse, he started his afternoon rounds. As the dog dried, his fur plumped out and his coloring was several shades lighter than before his bath. Sylvester didn’t make up for Riley losing his best friend but at least the dog was good company.

  Will’s absence had cut through Riley like a knife. Although he grieved for Will whenever he thought of the man, evenings were the worst time. That’s when they’d played chess and talked.

  Riley started at one end of town and walked one side of the street and then crossed over and went down the other. At each closed business, he checked to be sure the door was locked. He skipped the doctor’s. He’d already seen she was fine when she was coming out of the mercantile earlier.

  And that was an understatement. Blue eyes and dark blond hair that shone in the sunlight. She smelled like a flower garden in spring. Dang, what was wrong with him?

  After he’d completed his checks of the businesses, he strode toward the doctor’s back door. “Come on, Sylvester. We’ll see who can resist who.” He rapped and waited for her to answer.

  ***

  Shannon was expecting, even looking forward to, the sheriff’s visit. How pathetic had she become? Some days the lawman was the only human contact she had. “Sheriff, I see your deputy is looking better.” She stood aside but didn’t ask him to enter.

  “Wanted to be sure you’re doing all right.” He stepped over the threshold. Sylvester followed.

  He stopped. “Um, Sylvester, I think you’d better wait on the porch.”

  “Oh, he’ll be fine since this is the town’s house and he’s the town deputy.” She bent down. “Come on, boy, I have just the thing for you. Have a seat, Sheriff, while I get your dog a bone.”

  She returned with a bowl of water and a soup bone she’d saved. “I made soup for supper. Have you eaten?”

  “Abner at the café sold me enough roast beef to share with the dog.”

  She patted the dog between his ears. “Sounds as if Sylvester ate much better than I did.”

  The sheriff stood rubbing his chin and staring at the chess set as if he expected the pieces to come to life.

  She clasped her hands behind her. “Would you care to play a game of chess?”

  His eyes lit up and he took a seat at the table. “I’ll take black.”

  She sat across from him and grinned. “Fitting.” She moved her pawn.

  After half an hour, Shannon could suppress her curiosity no longer. “Since you knew my name, why did you think I was a man?”

  “Shannon is a man’s name in my family. I have an Uncle Shannon McCallister over in Boise and a Great-grandfather Shannon O’Toole from County Kildare. I’ve never known a woman with that name.”

  “I was named after the river in Ireland. I guess your relatives were too. Or, maybe the town was named after the river.”

  “Guess so. Checkmate.”

  She pretended surprised. “That didn’t take long. I didn’t realize I’m that out of practice.”

  He stood and picked up his hat. “I’ll give you a chance to win tomorrow if you’re willing.”

  “I’ll bake cookies if I don’t have patients. And it’s looking as if I’ll never have any.”

  “Aw, you will. A woman will have a baby or a child will become ill. That’ll prompt folks to turn to you for help.”

  “But you’re convinced a man won’t ask for my help?”

  He shrugged but didn’t meet her gaze. “Eventually, maybe. After you’ve been here a while—if you stick around. That’s a complicated subject.”

  After he’d gone, she straightened the chess set. Okay, so she’d let him win to soothe his ego. Not something she ever would have considered before moving here. Her existence in Mistletoe was tenuous. She didn’t want to damage the fragile peace between her and the sheriff.

  ***

  Shannon had cleaned her clinic until the place sparkled. She’d reviewed Dr. Jones’ files and had a sense of how busy he was plus his treatment methods for his patients. Although not rushed as she had been in New York, Dr. Jones had a growing practice that allowed him a steady income.

  He’d accepted odd things as payment and she supposed she would have to do the same. What would she do if someone paid in poultry? She’d accept the payment, that’s what.

  She dressed carefully and carried the basket she’d filled with food for the social scheduled after the church service. When she arrived, men were setting up tables, some no more than planks across barrels or sawhorses. No sooner was a table stable than it was covered with a tablecloth or sheet.

  Shannon added her food to a table.

  Lily picked up the pie Shannon had made. “Desserts go on a separate table, Dr. Shannon. Good, I see you brought your plate and silverware. Leave them in your basket and cover them with your napkin.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Holloway. I appreciate your help.” She set her basket on the ground by a tree.

  “Well, I suppose every church does the set up a little different. Set your basket over on that wagon so ants won’t get into it.”

  Shannon moved the basket. From across the way, a woman smiled pleasantly then hurried after her son. Reverend Nichols rang a bell to summon people to church. With a sigh, Shannon went inside the building and found a pew.

  The preacher welcomed her to the community. He followed with an inspiring sermon commanding kindness and fellowship.

  Afterward, she thanked him for his sermon and his welcome.

  “People may take a while to get used to the idea of a woman doctor, but don’t give up on us, Doctor Callahan.”

  “Please, call me Shannon. I’m hopeful people will give me a chance.” She didn’t add that so far she was less than optimistic about her acceptance.

  When she reached the picnic area, she realized she had failed to bring a blanket. Never mind, she was wearing a green dress, so she wouldn’t worry about grass stains. She smiled at people even though most ignored her as she filled her plate and found a place to sit.

  Doreen sat beside her. “I hope you’re getting settled in.”

  Hiding the pain of her rejection, Shannon speared a bite of potato salad. “Yes, the house is lovely and the office quite well stocked.”

  “Doreen? Doreen? Can you help over here?” Phoebe Porter called from the beverage table.

  With a grimace, the mercantile owner rose. “Excuse me, dear. Enjoy your dinner.”

  Feeling like a bump on a log, Shannon watched others laughing and chatting. She schooled her face to hide her disappointment. Would she ever be a part of the community?

  Riley watched Doreen leave, certain that Phoebe had called her to spite Shannon. Poor woman looked lonely. Dad gum, he couldn’t start feeling sorry for her.

  In spite of what his head told him, he ambled over and sat beside the doctor. “Potato salad is good, isn’t it?”

  “Thank you if you mean this kind because I brought it. Is your deputy guarding the jail?”

  “Not sure if he’d jump on the table or not. Couldn’t take a chance.” He used his fork to point at his plate. “Yeah, that’s the salad I meant.”

  Eyes sparkling with humor, she asked, “Do bachelors have to bring food?”

  He grinned. “Nope. We’re exempt, except for helping set up the tables and taking them down.”

  “How often does the church have one of these events?”

  “Not sure but I’d guess once a month or so. You’d have to ask the preacher. Sometimes this is the only chance folks from outside town get to visit with one another. Usually not time when they come in to buy supplies.”

  “Are there a lot of people in the community who live on farms and ranches?”

  “Depends on what you call a lot. Ranches here require several acres per cow. Farms d
o all right if there’s water. Without a water source, nothing does well.”

  “But there’s so much snow. Doesn’t that nourish the land?”

  He wondered what was going through her pretty head. Did she care or was she just making conversation? She appeared genuinely interested.

  “The melt-off rushes to the creeks and rivers. Not enough soaks in to sustain a crop.”

  “There must be quite a few creeks then because the town looks fairly prosperous. There has to be support from outside Mistletoe to keep the town going.”

  Surprised, he stared at her. “I hadn’t thought of things just that way, but you’re right. This town is a good one. I know of a few farmers and ranchers working hand to mouth, but most are doing pretty well even if they’re not getting rich.”

  “As long as they’re making enough profit to live comfortably, that’s wonderful. Not having enough to eat is sad.”

  “You see a lot of that in New York?”

  “There are parts that are horrible. I always felt so powerless to help people. Delivering a baby is an awesome experience for me, but not always for the parents. If they can’t feed the children they have, another is a burden.”

  The Doan children ran by yelling at one another. “And there’s a case in point.”

  “Oh, no, Sheriff. Those children are obviously well-fed and have decent clothes even if they’re not fancy. I’m talking about mothers who starve to death because they give what little food there is to their children. I mean children who freeze to death because there’s no heat or blankets.” She shook her head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get on my soap box.”

  “I understand why that would upset someone trained to preserve life. I’m glad I don’t live in a place like that.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  He met her gaze. “That’s something you never ask a westerner. Many folks came here to forget and others to escape. Questions about life before they arrived are not welcome.”

  “I apologize if I touched a nerve. Oh, it looks as if they’re clearing away the food. Thank you for taking pity on me and sharing dinner.”

  He started to deny why he’d come over but why lie? “The pleasure was mine, Doctor. I hope we can still have a chess game this evening.”

  “Of course. You never know, I might win tonight.”

  ***

  The first snow arrived and blanketed the world in white. She’d never experienced such beauty. Crisp, clean air with the forested mountains then the purple distant ones as a backdrop.

  Wearing the warm hat and scarf Doreen Murphy had chosen for her and her new lined gloves, Shannon shoveled her front walk. She smiled to herself as she realized she’d love to build a snowman.

  “You’re busy this morning.”

  Shovel in hand, she smiled at the sheriff. “Isn’t this a glorious day? Where’s Sylvester?”

  Bundled in a long black coat and red scarf around his hat, Riley could have passed for a western Santa. “I thought his paws might get too cold so I left him guarding the jail.”

  “That’s what a good deputy does, I suppose. You’re enjoying the snow alone.”

  “Have to admit I’m not as fond of the weather as you seem to be. At least the cold cuts down on mischief. Guess even crooks want to stay by the fire.”

  “Cozy by the fire is good, but I’ve never seen such a beautiful snow. So much cleaner than in the city. And, the sky is gorgeous.”

  She stopped talking. His facial expression broadcast his opinion. Obviously, he thought she was crazy for using every superlative she knew to describe what he probably thought of as a nuisance. After hefting a shovel of snow to the side, she leaned on the handle.

  He shifted from one foot to the other. “You need help?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m enjoying myself. I’ll bet you have to help several older people in town, though, don’t you?”

  He grinned. “Already cleared Mrs. Harper’s back porch and the walk to her chicken coop. Then, I helped Otto Jensen with his porch and his walk. Guess I’d better check on a few more folks.”

  “Stay warm.” She hummed to herself as she cleared the last few feet to her gate.

  ***

  Days, weeks passed with a lack of patients. In over two months since she’d arrived, she’d treated only a few women patients, delivered a baby, and set a child’s broken arm. If she didn’t die of boredom, she’d starve to death with no income.

  Time to take action.

  Pacing back and forth, she tried to think of what would bring people to her office. If she could convince people to consult her, she was certain they would realize she knew what she was doing. She would go mad with no patients and no way to fill her time.

  Mistletoe didn’t have a women’s clinic where she could volunteer. What if she started a free clinic one day a month? Everyone liked something free.

  Her heartbeat raced as she retrieved a sheet of paper from the desk. She took a seat and picked up the pen. She hummed to herself as she printed out what she wanted on the poster she’d put up in town.

  After bundling up, she practically ran through the snow to the newspaper office. Making eye contact with everyone she saw, she smiled as she strutted down the walk. When she entered the newspaper office, she leaned on the counter.

  A smiling man raised from bending over the press to stride toward her. “Hello, may I help you?”

  “I’m Dr. Shannon Callahan.”

  He extended his hand. “Tom Stuart. I’ve been meaning to come meet you. Do you want to run an ad in the paper?”

  “I hadn’t thought about one, but now that you mention the idea, I believe I will. And, I’d like to have you print some handbills.” She pushed the sheet across the counter.

  He scanned the words and pursed his lips in concentrations. “A free clinic? Never had one of those before. I’ll be happy to print the signs for you. How many do you want and when do you need them?”

  “A dozen should be enough and the sooner you have them ready, the better.”

  He gave her a price and she paid.

  Pencil in hand, he asked, “And how about the ad?”

  “Show me the sizes and tell me your prices.”

  He spread out the current edition of the newspaper. “I can give you a lower price if you make it long term.”

  Shannon scanned those and chose one. “I’d like a thin box around my advertisement and you can run it through the end of the year.” She wrote out what she wanted inside the box.

  “I’ll have the handbills for you this afternoon. While you’re here, why don’t you give me an interview for the next edition?”

  The more information about her, the better. An interview would be like free advertising. And, people who didn’t live in Mistletoe would receive the newspaper in the mail.

  She answered all of Tom’s questions. “I’ll call back later in the day.”

  Shannon had set the free clinic as the last Friday in October. That gave her three weeks to let word spread and figure a way to make the clinic successful.

  When she called for the handbills, she brought a hammer and tiny nails. Tom had already placed a sheet prominently in his shop window. She asked Doreen Murphy to place one in the mercantile window and the friendly woman agreed. Then, Shannon went to the other businesses in town.

  The barber, the bathhouse owner, and the lawyer agreed to post her flyers. The saloon was in transition after the owner’s death, so she nailed one to the outside wall. She was turned down at the bank by Jasper Amherst. What a snotty man.

  She secured several more then went home. With pleasure, she tacked one on the wall beside the blackboard. She also tacked one inside her new office. Now all she had to do was hope this worked.

  Chapter Four

  As she walked back from the mercantile three weeks later, she saw the sheriff and his dog. “Sheriff, you’re walking… you’re almost limping. What’s wrong?” She scratched Sylvester between the ears.

  The sheriff turned red.
“Nothing, nothing at all. Just out doing my rounds.”

  She wrinkled her nose while she weighed his answer versus his appearance. “If you say so. In the event there’s something wrong, don’t forget I’m the town’s doctor.”

  He tapped his fingers against his hat brim. “I’m fine, Doctor. Come on, Sylvester.”

  Riley did his best to walk normally but every step irritated that damn boil. What was he gonna do? He sure wasn’t asking a woman to lance it.

  He stopped in the barber shop. Pastor Nichols was getting his hair trimmed. Riley listened while the barber and the preacher discussed the latest snow and the bounty of the county’s crops.

  As soon as the minister left, Riley edged toward the barber. “Uriah, I need your help with a problem.”

  “Sure, Riley. What can I do for you?”

  He gestured for the barber to follow him behind the curtain that separated the shop from the back room.

  “You pull teeth back here. That’s sort of medical.”

  Uriah shook his head. “Not really, but say what you came to.”

  “Well, see, there’s this giant boil on my backside. I need you to lance it.”

  The barber narrowed his brown eyes. “Riley, are you nuts? Get the doctor to take care of that thing.”

  “Uriah, I can’t go showing her my backside. You gotta help me.”

  Uriah shook his head. “I’m not looking at yours or anyone else’s rear excepting Millie’s. Your kind of problem is Dr. Callahan’s business but it sure isn’t mine.” He pointed at the door. “Now, get that dog out of my place.”

  Riley ambled toward his office at the jail. Danged if he’d show his backside to a woman doctor, especially not one who inspired his lustful thoughts. He didn’t want her to witness a sudden salute from his other head.

  Maybe he could lance the boil himself. Sure, he could probably use a mirror and take care of the job. How hard could it be?

  Back at the jail, he took the little shaving mirror off the wall. After heating his knife to clean it, he dropped his britches. No matter how he held the mirror and twisted, he couldn’t gain access to treat the problem.