She exhaled a huge sigh. Fatigue dragged at her limbs. “You’re right, Sheriff. I’ll rest for a couple of hours. You ought to take your own advice.”
“Might catch a few winks.” Instead of lying down, he slouched with his long legs stretched out.
Before she closed her eyes, she offered up another prayer.
Dear Lord, protect these precious ones and save others from the epidemic.
When she woke, Riley watched her.
She sat up and smoothed her hair. “What? Did I snore or drool?”
He grinned. “Not telling. I may not know a lot about women, but I’m not that stupid.”
Phoebe moaned out of her head. Her fever had decreased, but she was still in danger. Shannon rose to bathe her again in an effort to cool the fever, but Phoebe appeared no more comfortable in spite of having a lower temperature. The disease took its time.
During the night, Jenny’s fever broke and she slept soundly. Unadee curled up on the other part of the pew and slept with one hand on her daughter.
Shannon sat on a pew across the aisle from Phoebe where she could keep a close eye on the woman.
Riley returned to the sanctuary and sat beside Shannon. He spoke quietly, “Glad to see you’re taking a break.”
“For a few minutes while everyone’s sleeping.”
“Who’s the sickest?”
She glanced at the pew where Unadee and her daughter slept. “Jenny’s finally over the worst, so that would be Phoebe Porter.”
“Stretch out and put your head in my lap. Catch a little sleep while you can.”
“I don’t dare with Phoebe so ill. I’ll sleep when the epidemic is over. That last blizzard was really bad, wasn’t it?”
“Sure was. Nothing outside is moving.”
“I suppose you made your rounds through town.”
He linked fingers with hers. “Have to. Can’t afford to chance someone falling and not being discovered before they froze.”
“I guess you know that someone could be you.”
He pulled her head to his shoulder. “Won’t say I’ve never fallen, but I always get up again. Guess I’m too ornery to stay down.”
“The hours crawl. Talk to me to pass the time.”
“Any topic in particular or you want me to ramble?”
“Tell me about your family and your life before you came here.”
“Not a pleasant subject. Had to escape my family. They were always trying to pull me into one of their ridiculous schemes—or scrapes. Usually, they were in the wrong with the latter. Not that I’m a saint. I gambled for a living, drifting from place to place.”
He appeared so sad she hated she’d asked. “I didn’t mean to call up bad memories, Riley. We can’t choose our family.”
“I think of Mistletoe as my family. There’s the odd black sheep, but most are fine people.”
“You must be good at gambling if you could survive on your skill.”
“Counting cards is natural for me, an ability I was born with and not a trick I learned. I honed the talent, of course. And, gambling’s partly observing others.”
“Good training for being sheriff.”
“Which is a job I like. First time in my life I’ve been happy and part of a community.”
“Not just a part, you’re the leader.”
He shrugged. “As the town grows, they’ll elect a mayor and town manager, other officers. My services may not be required, especially if Jasper Amherst has anything to say.”
“People wouldn’t let him replace you. I don’t think most people even like him.”
“He’s a good politician and people respond to that. Besides, he might be the only candidate.”
Phoebe moaned and thrashed around so much that Shannon was afraid the woman would fall to the floor. Shannon rose and went to soothe Phoebe, whose fever had risen and read 104 degrees.
As if reading her thoughts, Riley was by her side. “How can I help?”
Crushing down her panic, Shannon faced him. “Her fever’s climbing. Would you bring me a bucket of snow?”
In less than a minute, he returned with a pail heaped with snow. “That’s a water pail I grabbed, by the way, and not the other kind.”
Shannon packed snow around Phoebe’s head and shoulders. Using a scarf, she made a bag filled with the ice and placed it across the woman’s forehead.
“If this doesn’t work, I’ll have to pack her torso in snow. I hate to soak her clothes and blankets, but she’ll likely have brain damage if her fever goes higher.”
Working through the night, Shannon kept Phoebe’s fever from climbing, but couldn’t force her temperature lower. Near dawn, her fever broke and Phoebe ceased thrashing and slept. Shannon and Riley changed out the wet blankets for dry ones.
Shannon longed to lie down and rest, but she had patients waiting. When she came to Robbie and Ila Mae Stuart, Robbie was doing all right but Ila Mae’s fever had skyrocketed.
Shannon was shocked the child had gotten worse so quickly. “Poor darling’s fever is too high.”
Riley had gone to check on Sylvester and Plato and the list of humans for whom he was caregiver.
“Robbie, don’t let her roll off the pew. I’m going to get ice to cool her fever.”
Shannon carried the pail to the church steps and emptied the melted remains then scooped up a bucket of fresh snow. When she returned to Ila Mae, Robbie braced himself against the pew’s edge to protect his sister.
“Robbie, you’re a good brother. But, why didn’t you come get me when you saw Ila Mae was worse?” Shannon packed snow around the girl’s head. She pulled out her own handkerchief and used it to make an ice pack for Ila Mae’s forehead.
“Mama said not to cause no bother and you was helping that lady. I tried taking care of Ila Mae but didn’t know what else to do. She kept kicking off her cover and saying odd things.”
“Oh, Robbie, you’re a wonderful boy. If I ever have a son, I hope he’s like you.”
The boy acted surprised at her comment. Shannon was busy caring for his sister.
Robbie leaned over his sister’s head. “See, she don’t make sense. I thought maybe she was asking me to do something but I couldn’t tell what.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Ila Mae is what’s called delirious and hers is caused by the high fever. She might be having a weird dream and be talking about that, but she won’t remember when she wakes up.”
Robbie stared at her. “Don’t you never sleep?”
“I do when I don’t have sick patients who need my attention. I suggest you go to sleep and I’ll try to be quiet enough that I won’t disturb you.”
He frowned, wrinkling his freckled brow. “Reckon I ought to stay awake in case she comes to and is scared?”
“If that happens and I need your help, I’ll be sure and wake you. Remember that you’re sick, too, and you need to rest all you can.”
“I ’spose so.” He crawled back to his blankets and covered up. Soon he was asleep.
Ila Mae was so congested, Shannon feared she’d choke to death. To raise the girl’s head, she quickly retrieved the blanket she’d rested on earlier and folded it to use as a pillow. Over the next few hours using snow packs, the little girl’s fever decreased, but the congestion increased.
Shannon picked up Ila Mae and laid the child’s head on her shoulder while she wrapped a blanket around the girl. Walking back and forth, Shannon carried Ila Mae and smoothed her hand across the child’s back.
Lily Holloway stopped her. “If you don’t need me, I’ll take Katie home now.”
“Keep her warm and quiet for four more days.”
“I’m leaving a couple of blankets in case you need them.”
“Thank you, Lily. I appreciate your help.”
Vennie said, “I heard the instructions you gave Lily. I’m taking Johnny home too. If you need me to help, Shannon, I can come back and let John take care of Johnny.”
“Thank you, but I think we’l
l be all right. Jenny Dixon is better and so is Phoebe Porter. Mr. Jensen is doing well, and doesn’t show signs of developing pneumonia.”
“Send for me if you need me.”
Shannon was delighted that two of the patients were well enough to leave. If only none of the others grew worse, she’d be ecstatic.
Ila Mae whimpered, “Want Mama.”
“Pretend I’m your mama, dear. She loves you dearly but had to work today. You’re a precious girl and I’ll give you the best care I know.”
She checked on the other patients and was walking the floor while murmuring soothing things to Ila Mae when Riley returned.
He solemnly nodded toward the child. “Pneumonia?”
“I’m afraid she’ll choke if I leave her on the pew. But, things are improving. Vennie and Lily took their children home.”
He took off his coat and scarf and hung his hat on a peg. “Only a few days until Christmas Eve. The church is where the community celebration is held. You think we need to make other arrangements?”
“No, I think everyone here can leave in a day or two before then unless someone new comes in or one of the people here goes into pneumonia. Mr. Jensen and Phoebe will need bed rest for a couple of weeks. So will Ila Mae here.”
“Mr. Jensen’s not worse?”
She smiled. “Mad, but getting better. How are Mrs. Harper and Mr. Igo?”
“Still as stubborn as ever. Mr. Igo must be ninety but he’s not about to give in to his age.”
“Maybe stubbornness is why he’s lived so long.”
“Then you should live to at least a hundred.” He took Ila Mae from Shannon and sat on a pew, all the while gently rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth.
“As if you can talk. I’ll check on the others.”
Belle Webster approached. “I heard the instructions you gave Lily and Vennie. I believe Holly and Heather are well enough to take home. When my husband comes by, I’ll have him bring the buggy so the girls won’t be exposed to the cold as long.”
“I was going to ask the sheriff to hitch my buggy and use it as a delivery wagon. By now my horse needs exercise.”
“That would be nice. Then Davis won’t have to leave the boys alone.”
“Let’s wait until afternoon when the sun’s the warmest.”
Shannon checked Phoebe. Her temperature hadn’t flared and she was sleeping peacefully. Mr. Jensen was also asleep, although he would probably say he “was just resting my eyes a bit” when he woke.
Riley handed Ila Mae over to Shannon. “Has to potty. Out of my range of expertise. I’ll go get the buggy and take Mrs. Webster and the twins home.”
“Thank you, Riley. You’ve been a great help.”
She checked on the Dixon children again.
“Wally, you’ve been a model patient while you waited for your sister to recover.”
“Can I go home yet?”
“You can both go home tomorrow.”
She ran a hand over Amaryllis’s forehead. “You and Eli can go home in two days, dear.”
Mr. Jensen and Phoebe needed to be moved to Shannon’s office infirmary but she wasn’t sure either would agree. Mr. Jensen would want to go home and she couldn’t blame him. Home was where Shannon wanted to be when she was ill.
Phoebe would want as little to do with Shannon as possible. Kenneth Porter would never allow his wife to stay in an infirmary run by a woman doctor. He’d made his feelings abundantly clear.
Robbie Stuart could go home by the twenty-second. Hopefully, Ila Mae would improve enough to go home, too. She wouldn’t have anyone but Robbie to care for her during the day, but he was old enough to follow Shannon’s instructions.
Ila Mae’s congestion peaked and she threw up. Robbie immediately came to see about his sister. Belle Webster hurried over with cloths to clean up the mess on Shannon and the floor.
The little girl cried. “I’m sorry Mrs. Doctor. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, dear. Now that you’ve rid yourself of that mucous, you’ll get better. Why don’t you call me Dr. Shannon?”
Robbie tugged at her sleeve. “You’re not mad at Ila Mae?”
“Of course not, Robbie. You see, she didn’t just throw up what was in her stomach. Some of that came out of her lungs.”
“I’m glad you’re not mad at her. She’s just a kid.”
“I know. Although, I expect I’ll not smell very good until I can go home and change clothes.”
Riley stamped snow from his boots. “I’ll be back soon.” He carried one of the twins to the buggy while Belle carried her other daughter.
Chapter 11
Shannon was glad that when he returned to the church a half hour later, Riley brought a clean dress for Shannon.
“Thought you might want this. I don’t know anything about women’s things, but I remember you wore this once when we played chess.”
“Thank you, Riley.” Shannon accepted her blue calico with delight. “If only I could sneak away to Mr. McGarry’s bath house for a long soak in hot water. Instead, I’ll slip into the storage closet and change.”
When things were quiet that night, Riley tugged her to a seat. “Rest a while. Ila Mae’s fever’s down, Eli is breathing well, Phoebe Porter isn’t delirious, and Mr. Jensen just wants to go home.”
“I hope someone is paying Abner and Harriett for all the food they’ve supplied. I haven’t kept track of how many, but we’ve had wonderful meals.”
“The town will repay them. Probably take up a collection at the Christmas party. You plan on attending?”
“No reason to go. I’ll never fit in here, much as I regret that fact. The citizens of Mistletoe aren’t ready for a female doctor.”
Mouth wide, he looked askance. “You’re giving up? Where’s your spine and determination?”
“Defeated. Kenneth Porter only brought Phoebe here because of her diarrhea and vomiting. Even when he left his wife in my care, he insulted me. Jasper Amherst will never forgive me—or you—for asking him to leave.”
“Kenneth Porter and Jasper Amherst do not speak for the town. In fact, they are opposed to everything anyone else suggests.”
She gestured around the room. “The only reason these parents called on me is because they were desperate. If their children hadn’t been critical, they never would have come to my office. Except for the Gibsons, even a free clinic didn’t draw them.”
“Now they know you they’ll bring their kids and themselves to your office whenever they need a doctor.”
“In spite of the fact I was a superb student who graduated early, I had to fight to get into the university, fight harder to get into medical school. I fought to practice as a woman physician.”
“Then you shouldn’t give up now.”
She shook her head. “I thought Montana would be different but it isn’t. People won’t accept a female doctor. I’m out of fight, Riley, drained of any determination. I’m tired of defending my every word or action.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know. I have a month to decide and set up something.”
“If you leave, you’ll be making a big mistake. I was against a female doctor, but you’ve proved you’re good. As I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to respect your ability.”
“That’s kind of you, Riley. Excuse me, that’s Eli crying.” She rose and went to check on the boy.
Amaryllis was holding her brother. “I tried to quiet him, but he wants Mama.”
“You’re a good sister.” Shannon lifted Eli. “Now, Eli, remember you’re supposed to pretend I’m your mother.”
“I don’t feel good and I wanta go home.”
She clasped the little boy to her. “I don’t blame you, Eli. Everyone here would like to go home. The thing is, when you’re really sick, you need extra care. That’s why you’re here.”
“Dr. Jones came to our house when we were sick.”
“If you were the only one sick, I would come to your house. Now
, cuddle up and go to sleep. Amaryllis, thank you for your help but you need to sleep also.”
Amaryllis climbed onto her pallet but didn’t lie down. “When do you think we can go home, Dr. Shannon?”
“Tomorrow. The sheriff will drive you home in my buggy so you won’t get too cold. I’m sure your parents will be happy to see you.”
Shannon carried Eli back and forth with his head on her shoulder until he fell asleep. She tucked him into his makeshift bed.
The next morning the sun shone brightly for the first time in days.
Reverend Nichols stopped by to check on the patients. “I’m happy to see everyone is leaving.” He raised a hand as if to ward off a reprimand. “Not that I begrudge the use of the church, but our Christmas celebration is one of the year’s highlights.”
Shannon took no offense. “I’m sorry we’ve been here so long, Reverend Nichols. Use of the sanctuary was a blessing for those with measles.”
“That’s what church family is about, Shannon. Every drop of energy you had must be gone. Go home and get some rest.”
“I intend to.”
“I’m on my way to check on Miss Walsh and make sure she arrived safely at the home of her aunt and uncle. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve.” The cheerful minister strode purposefully from the church.
Phoebe was the last person to leave.
Kenneth Porter stomped into the sanctuary. “I saw the sheriff taking people home so I came for my wife.”
Shannon pulled him aside. “She’s been extremely ill, Mr. Porter. Although she’s healing from the measles, she isn’t nearly well. She needs ten days to two weeks of bed rest before she slowly resumes her routine.”
“Two weeks? What am I supposed to do?”
“I suggest you remember the part of your marriage vows. You know, the part about in sickness and in health?”
His face turned red. “You are impertinent.”
“And you are downright rude. Nevertheless, I’m advising you on the care your wife needs to recover. She was close to death, Mr. Porter. You should rejoice that she survived and consider two weeks of convalescence a small price for your wife’s life.”
Wild Western Women Mistletoe, Montana: Sweet Western Historical Holiday Box Set Page 8
