“Undoubtedly.” His tone conveyed his amusement.
Not exactly the response she’d sought. Was he truly so dense?
“I had many suitors.”
His demeanor turned rigid as he regarded her closely.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve been kissed before.” She lifted her chin. “And more than once.”
His wide eyes narrowed.
“Nevertheless, you’ve committed to sharing information about your recovery with me, and I intend to use it for a serious professional purpose. That means I will conduct myself properly for the duration of our bargain.” He reached for the medical bag at his feet. “I’ll be back in an hour.” Dismissing her with a nod, he left for his house call.
His sudden change in attitude vexed her. The good doctor had obviously caught a stubborn case of the moralities. Surely she could nudge him through this useless ethical dilemma. She had never been one to back down from a challenge, and she refused to start now.
“We’ll see about that,” she muttered as she rolled up her sleeves and went back to work.
She made her way to the front window in the waiting room, then pushed open the shutters. Dust motes danced in the flood of light filtering through the dingy panes. The mess looked worse in the brighter light. She began unpacking the nearest trunk. She had no idea what she was removing, as everything inside was meticulously wrapped in thick paper to prevent damage during shipping.
As instructed, she moved item after bulky item to a shelf in the examination room. She stooped to browse the various drugs and herbs housed behind the glass doors of the nearby cupboard. Along with a metal pill shaper, rows of jars filled with laudanum, burdock, elecampane, jimson weed, and pleurisy root lined the crowded shelf.
From this cache of medicines, Jace would prepare poultices, liniments, and pills for his patients. She considered all the time and energy expended on applying remedies, the results of which were often ineffective. All the needless suffering…
The sound of a wailing child in the distance poured through the open window. Maddie bolted upright, and rushed to the parlor just as the door burst open.
“Doc!” The little boy Mr. Cleary carried kicked his foot beneath the bloody cloth that covered it. “Doc!”
Mrs. Cleary rushed in behind them, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Doctor Merrick!”
Maddie’s heart pounded. “He’s not here,” she said. “He’s gone to see Mrs. Tremont. What’s happened?”
“Our boy here jumped from a hay bale onto a nail in the floorboard. It’s bad.”
“He’s barely four years old. We can’t lose him, too.” Mrs. Cleary wiped at her tears. “Dear Lord, James, what do we do?”
The child yelled louder, his fear feeding on that of his frantic parents. The blood malady that afflicted all of the Cleary children had already proved fatal for the other Cleary sons, and Maddie had never seen the staunch couple so out of sorts. She resolved to do what she could to help, consequences be damned.
“Give him here,” Maddie said.
They stared, horrified, as if she were Satan personified demanding their child.
“Give. Him. Here.” Maddie wrenched the screaming child from his father’s arms. “Go send someone for Doctor Merrick,” she instructed Mr. Cleary. “Mrs. Cleary, you wait here.” She started for the examination room. “What’s his name?”
Mrs. Cleary blinked. “Joseph,” she said. “Joey.”
Maddie rushed the boy to the examination room. She kicked shut the door, leaving a gaping Mrs. Cleary outside. Maddie sat on a chair, wrestling the squirming child on her lap. “Keep still now,” she said more harshly than she’d intended. She’d always lacked patience with children, but she had to keep the boy calm. “Shh. It’s all right, Joey, shh.”
The boy settled against her as she peeked beneath the saturated cloth to assess the situation. Blood spurted from the small hole in his foot with surprising force. It showed no sign of stopping. Joey was in trouble, and he needed help immediately.
Maddie tossed the sopping cloth aside, and it hit the floor with a splat. Her hands shook. There was so much blood, and the child was so small. Excluding herself, Maddie had healed only one other human being. But the stove burn to Rhetta’s palm had been no life-threatening injury. This surely was. She had to try.
Situating the boy firmly on her lap, Maddie used her free hand to clasp Joey’s foot. Blood filled her palm, oozing through her trembling fingers. Over Joey’s whimpers, Maddie hummed to the boy, squeezing his foot softly at first until she could get an adequate grip over the injury. Maddie closed her eyes and squeezed harder. Joey whimpered and squirmed in her lap. Bouncing her knees gently to soothe him, Maddie concentrated on the beat of the rhythm, nothing else. A surge of heat consumed her; hot tears stung her eyes. The heat from Maddie’s hand intensified.
Joey stiffened at the strange sensation, whimpering some more. The heat poured freely now with little effort.
“Shh. Don’t be afraid,” Maddie cooed. “It’s all right.” And somehow she knew that it was.
The sound of frantic voices carried from the outer room. Mrs. Cleary sounded wild.
“She took Joey in there!” Heavy footsteps echoed through the door, growing louder as they neared. The door flew open, and Jace charged inside. Mr. Cleary followed on his heels.
“He’s a bleeder, Doc.”
“Hemophilia?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve lost two boys already. The nail went straight through his shoe. John Baldwin is hitching the wagon so we can take him to Troy.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Maddie said. “He’s—”
“Get him up on the table,” Jace ordered as he washed his hands in a basin of water.
“He’s all right. He’s—”
“Now,” he said, spinning around. He dried his hands, then prepared a fresh compress.
Maddie set Joey gently on the table.
“Lie back, son,” Jace said, nudging Maddie away. Joey’s eyes widened in fear, and he started to cry. Ignoring the child’s protests, Jace lowered him to his back. “Let’s have a look,” he said as he examined the injury with competent efficiency.
Jace dabbed at the blood, his moves deliberate and swift, as though his body was one step ahead of his brain. Unlike Maddie’s trembling hands, his were steady and strong.
Maddie wrung her bloodied hands on her skirts and watched. Jace furrowed his brow, then leaned in for a closer look. His grim expression worried her. Would the blood come gushing? Had Maddie been too quick to deem Joey healed?
“It’s slowing,” Jace said, reaching for the compress.
The Clearys huddled closer, responding in unison. “Slowing?”
“So it appears,” Jace answered, dabbing at Joey’s foot.
“How?” Mrs. Cleary spun to Maddie. “What did you do?” She swiveled back to Jace. “What did she do?”
“She did nothing,” Jace snapped. “The blood is clotting.” Releasing Joey’s foot, he straightened to face the Clearys. “The puncture was deep enough to sever important vessels, but the blood appears to be clotting now.” He turned to Joey. “How do you feel, son?”
The boy averted his teary eyes, lips quivering.
Maddie couldn’t blame the child. The intensity in Jace’s expression would frighten a wildcat.
“Answer the doctor now, Joey,” she said. Sidling to the table, she patted Joey’s knee. “How do you feel?”
“I want to go home,” sniffed the tiny boy.
“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Maddie cooed with a smile. She turned to Jace. “May I help him up?”
“No, you may not.” He turned, preparing a fresh basin of water. “Punctures are prone to infection. The wound must be cleaned.”
Maddie soothed the boy as Jace carefully cleaned and bandaged the small foot.
“Get him to Troy,” Jace told the Clearys. “With his condition it’s possible
the bleeding may resume.”
Maddie shook her head. “I don’t think—”
“Keep his foot raised, and keep him as still as possible during the trip. You’re taking a spring wagon?” he asked as he hefted the boy from the table and deposited him in his father’s arms.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. We’ll give him a bit of laudanum to ease his nerves. Cushion him in the wagon so he’s not bouncing around.”
Mrs. Cleary nodded furiously. “Thank you, Doctor Merrick.” She brushed past Maddie, then stopped, turning slowly to face her. The woman’s reproachful attitude toward Maddie hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen her, but the harsh line of her mouth softened a bit now, and her cool eyes seemed warmer. “Thank you,” she uttered softly in Maddie’s direction before she hurried after her husband.
Jace escorted the trio to the waiting wagon outside. Maddie watched through the dingy window as he helped load Joey inside. Wringing her balled fists, Maddie tried to relax. Her simple healing efforts were not always successful. Her failure to cure Grandfather had proved it. But this attempt had been a resounding victory, and she knew, with sudden clarity, that she could no longer stand idly by as her neighbors bled and suffered—even if it meant that they would soon despise and fear her more than they already did. She would be careful to avoid exposure, of course. But she would not squander her gift.
Exhaling her pent-up tension, she began to calm. A few minutes later the wagon ambled down the street.
Jace strode into the house and closed the door firmly behind him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She blinked. “Pardon me?”
“I’m the doctor here, Madeline, not you.”
“Oh, for goodness sakes.”
“I strongly suggest you remember that.”
“I was merely attempting to soothe the child. And I thought I might apply an herbal poultice that Rhetta sometimes uses for household cuts. But it was unnecessary in the end…”
“An herbal poultice? For bleeding?” He glared. “These are my patients. Do not ever undermine me again. There will be no simple country remedies or backwoods mumbo-jumbo in this office.”
“The boy was frightened out of his wits. I had to do something.”
“The boy could have bled out on my table! Had that puncture been a fraction deeper, he very well might have!”
“I—”
“You’re not qualified to treat patients! That’s not why you’re here!”
Maybe not, but she was here. And she’d saved Joey’s life. She snapped shut her lips, biting back a retort that would turn his world on its side.
“Well, I don’t even wish to be here!” she spat instead. “And I certainly don’t wish to be a nurse. Or a housekeeper.”
“And I didn’t wish to be your fiancé. So we’re even on that score.” He strode toward the examination room. “Come wash your hands,” he called over his shoulder.
Maddie followed, then proceeded to wash her hands in the basin of water he’d prepared. He fumbled through his medical supplies. “For someone who doesn’t wish to be a nurse, you certainly spend a good amount of time with your hands soaked in blood.”
She frowned, scrubbing harder, but had no response.
“Your unsterilized hands, no less,” he muttered. “Even a minor infection can turn deadly.” He tossed her a towel. “These are people, Madeline, not wounded deer.”
She dried her hands, then forced herself to face him.
His voice softened as he collected himself. “I understand the instinct to help, but your interference could have hindered my treatment. Or made matters worse.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but his scowl warned her against it.
“You will stick to the tasks of organizing the office and patient records. Nothing more. Is that understood?”
His condescending tone was infuriating. She nodded, simply to appease him. If nothing else, this incident had taught her one thing about Doctor Jace Merrick. Even if she performed a miracle right under his nose, he would likely never believe it.
Chapter 7
Jace spent the next morning on another house call, where he remained for several hours treating a man with a fractured arm. Another of the region’s sudden storms struck shortly after he departed from the secluded clapboard house in the woods, making for a slow trip down the mountain. On the outskirts of town, several cabins and cottages surrounded the numerous lakes in the area. Jace hoped he would soon have a better understanding of the roads and pony paths leading to these more remote locations.
House calls comprised a good portion of country practice, so it was imperative to maintain the buggy in prime condition. Traveling to treat patients in the winter months would be daunting, not to mention precarious in the dark. A few summer rain storms, and already the route was a mess.
The buggy trudged and slid in the mucky ruts, and rain battered the top. The long trips usually provided Jace with time to reflect on his patients and budding practice. Today, though, his thoughts seemed to wander to Maddie. During the trip up the mountain, and all last night, he had remained furious with her about what happened with Joey Cleary. She had no business challenging his orders when it came to his patients—it was dangerous on every level. And yet he couldn’t help but admire the way she argued her own cause after the fact. The woman was infuriating. Maddening. And far too distracting.
He’d come very close to kissing her again yesterday. So close, in fact, that he’d been tempted to send her home right then and there—to put an end to this ridiculous scheme of hers before it truly began. But he’d agreed to play her fiancé, and after feeding Henry the bait to set the charade in full motion, he was now bound to see it through.
If he was being honest, part of him wanted to continue with her. He wished he could claim true indifference, but how could he? Even now, his brain was busy worrying about her, fearing she might be caught walking home in the midst of this downpour. Trees swayed with the force of the wind. The damage to his roof proved how quickly storms in this area could intensify. If Maddie weren’t still at the office when he arrived, he’d go back out to find her.
By the time he reached the office it was late afternoon, and the storm had turned fierce. Maddie stood at the window, as if awaiting his return. While he could justify his relief at finding her safely sheltered, the sudden vitality in his weary steps as he unrigged the buggy told him something else. He was happy to see her.
Christ Almighty.
He snatched up his bag, then dashed for the door. He ducked inside, shaking off the rain. Maddie greeted him with a towel and took his bag.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” he said into the towel as he dried his face.
“You are?” Her pensive smile warmed the chill from his bones.
“This storm is a mean one.”
Her smile fell.
“I thought it best to wait it out,” she said as she reached for the towel. She hung it on a peg by the door, then followed him down the hall. “The mountain road can be a challenge in bad weather. I was beginning to worry.”
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone worried for him, and her concern caught him off guard.
“The trip was unpleasant, but no broken wheels.” He glanced around, surprised by what he saw. She’d cleaned and arranged the patient waiting room. He could actually see the braided carpet beneath the large center table and the chairs lining the walls.
“It was damp in here,” she said to explain the fire crackling in the hearth.
Flames flickered, setting the room in a golden glow. The vase of lilacs on the mantel scented the once-musty air. In one day, her hard work and subtle touches had transformed the room from dreary disarray to a cozy, comfortable place for his patients.
“You’ve done a fine job with the room.”
She smiled, and he welcomed the jolt of energy that coursed through his veins. Her dark hair was
pinned up, but the twined knot had loosened considerably during her chores. A few wisps brushed her temples and coiled along her neck. The unfettered look stirred his senses. As did the open buttons at her delicate throat. He took a deep breath to ward off his arousal. The smell of onions drifting from the kitchen made his stomach growl.
“Mariah Whitby stopped by with a nice roast beef,” she said. “Compliments of her mother for your help yesterday morning.”
“Is that what smells so good?”
“I’ve cooked supper. Henry told me you were on the mountain for a house call until almost midnight. Since you were out so early this morning, I thought you might be hungry.”
Jace was unused to this kind of attention—he’d been on his own for so long. Her concern for his welfare was as discomfiting as it was pleasing.
“I’m famished,” he admitted. But not solely for food. Coming home to a woman certainly had its advantages, and he’d never considered them as thoroughly as he did right now. He pushed away his base longings as he peeled off his wet coat.
“It’s still pouring out there,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll join you for supper.” She tilted her head, lips quirking. “Unless you fear dining with me would threaten propriety.”
She was incorrigible. And as alluring as hell.
“I can’t very well send you out in the rain.”
She grinned like a cat that had cornered a mouse. “Rhetta does most of the cooking at home, but I can manage a simple pot roast. It should be ready soon. Some coffee in the meanwhile will warm you up.”
After removing his boots and changing his clothes, he met her in the kitchen. She’d tidied here, too. The linoleum floor shined, as did the white tiled walls. A jar of flowers sat between two place settings. The room fairly breathed with her presence. Pots steamed on the stove. He sat, watching as she darted about, serving the coffee and checking the doneness of the roast and potatoes. The checkered apron tied around her small waist accentuated the tantalizing curve of her hips. The plainness of her beige dress did nothing to camouflage the shapely figure beneath, and her confident flirting told him she knew it. She turned suddenly from the stove.
The Lady Who Lived Again Page 7
