Iris and Daisy, and now Pansy, were guests on Sunday noon and didn't have to help with the meal. His parents always put a big roaster full of meat, potatoes, and carrots in the oven before they left for the church. Then Mack and his brothers had it on the table, ready to eat, by the time they came home. It was his family’s after church tradition.
"We're here. Meal ready?" Their mother breezed into the dining room, counting table settings. "Better add one more place. I see Adolph coming up the walk."
Mack groaned. His mother had asked Adolph to join them for dinner when Holly had moved to town and stayed at the parsonage, because Adolph was looking for a wife. Ever since then, Adolph showed up at the first Sunday meal when any new woman would be sure to be at their table.
Could Adolph be Mack's competition for Pansy's hand? Possibly, since the blonde Swede was very tall, and Adolph owned the butcher shop in town. He was probably just interested in the lady doctor so he could get his knife cuts stitched up for free.
Nevertheless, Adolph was his parent's guest for dinner so he'd be polite, and he’d make sure Adolph was on the opposite end of the table from Pansy.
"I didn't know the saddle blanket was full of burrs," Tully butted in, as Seth told of their younger brother's recent account of getting bucked off a horse.
Seth managed the Straight Arrow horse ranch for Isaac Connely, and Tully worked there, to stay out of trouble the teenager always found in town. The five older brothers sighed, almost in unison. Tully should have known better than that.
They might have grown up in town, but every brother worked on a Connely ranch for a year or two before they chose their adult profession.
"You should always brush your horse and check his blanket and saddle before saddling him up. It's a wonder you didn't break your neck," Angus chided him, which was his job as eldest brother.
Seth had the patience of a saint. Mack would have rung the kid's neck if Tully were helping him with construction work and not paying attention.
"Isn't it about time you grew up?" Cullen grumbled to Tully.
"You keep saying that, but I don't know what I want to do yet," Tully leaned across the table to glare at Cullen.
"Sons, that's enough. We have company at the table," his da reminded them.
Adolph cleared his throat, and everyone turned his direction. "Doctor Walline, may I take you for a drive in the country this afternoon?"
"No," both Mack and Pansy said at the same time, and then looked at each other. Mack grit his teeth to stop himself from saying why he didn't want Adolph alone with her.
"I have an appointment to see a patient this afternoon, so I'm not available," Pansy said smoothly. Mack liked her "doctor's voice" and couldn't wait to hear it again, maybe the next time he had an issue that needed examining. Mack felt heat radiate up his neck and picked up his glass of water to take a big gulp to cool him down.
He looked sideways at his ma, and she was trying her darnedest not to smile, or hide a frown. Did she know he was interested in the new woman doctor? And did she approve or disapprove? Mack glanced at his father at the other end of the table and saw him raise an eyebrow at his mother. Oh shoot, they were on to him. His parents would either push them together or pull them apart. Mack was a grown man, but their opinion meant a lot to him.
Chapter 4
"That woman's not going to be looking down my drawers!"
Pansy had just raised her hand to knock on Clancy's front door but then hesitated when she heard the muffled yell.
Mack reached around her and pounded on the door. "Mr. Clancy's bark is worse than his bite. Mrs. Clancy will be sure he does whatever you say."
Pansy took in a deep breath, and held it until Holly, Nolan's wife, opened the door. Then she released it, glad that Mr. Clancy didn't meet her at the door with a shotgun.
On the trip over, Mack had told her that Nolan and Holly lived with Nolan’s grandparents, so she shouldn't have been surprised that one of the younger people answered the door.
"Please come in," Holly said as she adjusted the baby in her arms. "Gramps has been a bit cranky lately, but we didn't know what the problem was until Grandma told us today. I sure hope you can help him out."
Pansy gazed at the adorable baby boy, wishing she could hold him a minute. But, as always, duty called.
"They're in their bedroom. Nolan’s with them, trying to keep him calm. Good luck, Doctor Walline."
Holly pointed in the direction to walk, but Mack stepped around and motioned for her to follow him.
"I added a bedroom to the back of the house when Nolan and Holly married and moved in with the older couple. Dan couldn't climb the steps anymore, plus it gave everyone more room."
"Goodness. He was yelling loudly if we could hear him outside. Is he of sound mind?" Pansy asked.
"Yep. Just old. Dan and Edna ran the café for years, and now his body has worn out. He still spends a lot of time at the café overseeing things, but still...his aging situation just makes him sad, or cranky, at times."
Mack stopped just inside the open bedroom door and stepped aside so Pansy could join him.
"The good doctor's here to look at your sore, Mr. Clancy."
"No, she's not!" Mr. Clancy shouted.
Why couldn't her first call be a simple one?
"Either Mack and I will hog tie you to the bed, or we step out, and Grandma will help you with your pants. Which will it be?" Nolan said.
"Out."
Mack nodded to Pansy as the men left and closed the door behind them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Clancy, it's good to see you again, even if it's because you need my...advice," Pansy started, hoping to put the man to ease first before examining the sore. Mr. Clancy was half reclining on the bed and had to crane his neck to look up at Pansy, so she sat down on the chair next to Mrs. Clancy.
"Mack said you ran the café for years. I enjoyed your recipe of chicken pot pie for my first meal in town."
"It's better than the hotel's version by a long ways," Mr. Clancy huffed.
"What was your favorite meal to cook?"
"Can't cook no more," Mr. Clancy grumbled.
Mrs. Clancy laid a hand on her husband's forearm. "Customers raved about his crispy fried chicken. My specialty was biscuits, but Holly can make better ones."
"I had two biscuits, and they were so good. Warm with melted butter and that wonderful jelly on them. What kind of plum—"
"Sandhill plum jelly. Don't suppose they have something like that fancy in Boston." Mr. Clancy sniffed, but at least he was talking to her.
"I grew up on a ranch in the Wyoming Territory, and we had a wild plum that tasted almost like it. That first bite of jelly made me think of home."
Neither of the elders made another comment, and after a long minute, she realized they expected her to be in charge, even though they were decades older than her.
Time to test her patient skills. Pansy took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Mrs. Clancy, while I turn my back, would you please help your husband with his clothing and have him lie down on the bed? Please cover all of his...skin with the bed sheet, except where I need to examine."
Pansy turned to the wall, patiently waiting as the older couple did as she asked.
"He's ready, Doctor."
Pansy turned around and smiled at the woman standing by her prone husband as if to protect him. "Thank you, Mrs. Clancy."
Pansy leaned over the man but didn't touch him. She peered through her magnifying glass to study the skin. It was a raised, oblong, angry-looking red spot with two faint red lines radiating about two inches from its center.
It wasn't a boil, but an infection from a splinter embedded in the skin.
"Mrs. Clancy, take the glass and look at the spot. Put your hand on your husband here to support yourself." Pansy watched Mr. Clancy's shoulders relax at the touch of his wife's hand.
Pansy waited as the woman shuffled in place and looked through the glass. She wasn't steady, so Pansy put a hand on her elbow and the
other on the magnifying glass to hold it still.
"Why, that looks like a splinter!"
"Exactly, so we'll have to dig it out and clean out the infection, which should take care of the problem."
"How'd I get a splinter on my backside?" Mr. Clancy asked gruffly.
"From the old commode I told you we need to replace,” Mrs. Clancy answered back. “I've told you it was rough in one spot."
"Doesn't mean you need a new commode. You just watch how you sit!"
Pansy gathered the instruments she needed from her bag and laid them gently on the bed beside her patient as the two argued.
She opened a bottle of alcohol and poured a tiny bit of it on a section of gauze.
"Mr. Clancy, I'm going to clean the wound and pull out the splinter now. Mrs. Clancy, please put your hand back on your husband as you did before."
His backside tensed up as she wiped the gauze on the skin, but he stayed still. Using the glass again to see better, she proceeded to carefully slit the skin enough to expose the end of the splinter. Then she used tweezers to slowly pull out the inch-long piece of dark wood, hoping the splinter didn't break and leave a sliver behind.
"She got it!" Mrs. Clancy exclaimed as she patted her husband. The tension melted from his body.
"I still have to clean the wound so bear with me. This will sting." Oh my, why did I use that word? But Mr. Clancy's muffed chuckle told her she hadn't offended him.
Pansy prodded the skin and swiped gauge several times across it to get as much blood and pus out of it as she could. She might have to open the wound another time or two to get the infection out if it didn't heal, but hopefully getting the splinter out would stop the problem.
"I have a salve I'm going to put on the wound, and then a piece of gauze to protect it. I realize it will work off but..."
"You can't wrap my whole body for one spot." Mr. Clancy finished.
Yes, it would be hard to wrap gauze around his backside, but she didn't want to say it.
"Mrs. Clancy, do you have a reading glass?" Pansy assumed they did, at their age.
"Yes, I do."
"Excellent. Could you check Mr. Clancy’s wound, about four times a day, with your glass to be sure the red streaks disappear? I'll leave some salve with you to apply twice a day also."
"Yes, I can do that."
"Let me know if it doesn't look better by tomorrow afternoon. I may have to drain the wound again so don't delay if you think I need to look at it."
"I will." The woman looked pleased that she could take over the care of her husband.
"What did it look like?" Mr. Clancy asked, and Pansy smiled at his curiosity.
"I left the wood splinter on a piece of gauze on your side table. It's so big, you can easily see the splinter without the glass. Now I'll step out of the room, so you can help your husband dress." Pansy wrapped her instruments in a cloth, put them in her medicine bag, and quietly left the room.
Nolan and Mack stood as Pansy walked back into the living room.
"Well, did he let you look and find out what's wrong?" Nolan asked, looking doubtful.
"I pulled a nasty wooden splinter from his backside," Pansy confirmed that indeed Mr. Clancy had let her take care of the problem and she’d known what to do about it. "They mentioned a commode seat that was rough, so I suspect it might have come from that, rather than a chair or bench."
"The splinter probably came from the old commode they use in their room," Nolan said.
"I bet it just needs some sanding. I can do that easy enough," Mack volunteered.
“Thanks, but I’ll take care of it," Nolan waved off Mack's offer. "What do we owe you for your visit?"
Pansy named her fee for a house call, and Mr. Clancy gave a choking cough behind her.
"That much to pull out a splinter?" The look the old man gave her was defeating. Her very first patient didn't appreciate the time and cost of her going to medical school. It would always be an uphill battle to be paid, let alone treat people, just because she was a female...even if she was taller and heavier than over half the men in town.
Mack walked up to stand beside Pansy and turned to Mr. Clancy. "That small fee could have saved your life, Mr. Clancy. I heard red streaks were going down your leg."
"There are, and Doctor Walline is still going to have to watch them, even if he doesn't like it," Mrs. Clancy, thankfully, backed her up.
"No, I did appreciate it. Just never had another woman touch my backside besides my wife." Mr. Clancy grinned at the group around him. "Maybe I'll get another splinter, and the good doctor can visit me again."
If looks could kill, Mrs. Clancy's glaring stare would have pierced his heart, but then she smiled at her husband. "You old coot, flirting with the pretty doctor could get you in trouble."
Pretty? Pansy knew the woman was only saying that to make her feel better. All her life she’d been told she was too plain, too tall, and too heavy. That played a big part in Pansy’s decision to dedicate her life to helping others, instead of wishing for a family of her own. If Pansy had daughters, she’d hate for them to go through the same awkward childhood as she’d had.
But then she remembered the baby in Holly’s arms…how it would have been nice to hold him and pretend it could have been her child.
Chapter 5
"I was impressed by how you handled Mr. Clancy," Mack told the doctor as they walked back to her apartment.
"His wife did most of the handling. I just pulled out the splinter," Pansy said, sounding less than enthusiastic about her first house call as Clear Creek's new doctor.
"Still, he can be a tough nut to crack. When we were young, my older brothers and I spent a lot of time in the back of the café with Nolan and his grandparents. Mr. Clancy would make us wash dishes if he caught us eating the food he'd made for the customers."
"Well, that sounds fair, because you cost him money and time," Pansy said.
"Yeah well, we eventually figured out he was on to our prank and had put it to his advantage."
"How so?"
"He'd have food set aside for us, by whatever pile of dishes he needed washed."
Mack liked the sound of Pansy's surprised laugh, and he was glad he could improve her mood.
"And what did your preacher father say about your little arrangement?"
"At our young age, we didn't think our parents knew, but of course they did. Da was probably slipping Mr. Clancy money to feed us."
"I haven't known your family for very long, but it seems…strong and healthy."
"We've had our share of trials and tribulations since most of us were adopted, but—"
"Adopted? Which brothers?"
"The ones that don't match each other in looks."
Pansy stopped on the boardwalk and looked at him. "You all look very different now that you mention it."
"It's a long story. How about we take a buggy ride out to the country this afternoon, and I'll tell it to you." Mack was desperate to spend time alone with her, especially after seeing Adolph could be competition.
"I don't know..."
"You’ll need to learn your way around the county to make house calls to the area ranches." He knew he'd get her consent with that idea.
"True. Think we could go horseback instead of by buggy?"
"Sure,” he said, excited by the idea that she wanted to ride. Though he supposed that made sense, since she’d grown up on a ranch. “I'll go to the livery and get a horse for you while you change clothes. Do you want to ride side saddle or astride?"
"Would it offend you if I said I prefer to ride astride? I know it’s not ladylike, at least in Boston, that is."
"No, I'd say you'd fit in just fine riding astride in this county. In fact, I think you'd enjoy stopping at Noah and Hilda Wilerson's ranch to see their horse stock."
“Is Hilda the woman I heard ran in horse races when she was younger?"
"None other. Hilda’s favorite horse, Nutcracker, is getting old but still on the ranch. And he'll
only let the girls in the family ride him...bucks the boys off pronto."
"I bet there's a story there," Pansy teased him as they stopped at her door.
Mack leaned toward Pansy, enjoying the spicy-sweet scent of her perfume. It reminded him of the gardenias he’d smelled in New Orleans years ago.
"We could take a ride every Sunday for the next year, and I wouldn't run out of stories to tell you," Mack murmured while staring into her beautiful hazel eyes. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her. He wouldn’t even have to stoop!
Pansy stepped back, squaring her shoulders before answering. "Well, today I'd just appreciate a tour of the area ranches. I'm sure I can find my way around after that, Mr. Reagan."
"Please call me, Mack, rather than a formal name. I hope we’ll soon become good friends." And much more, he hoped.
"But I need you to call me by my professional name, so others will respect me as the town's doctor."
Mack was taken aback until he saw she was serious, and she was right. "All right, when we're with other people I'll address you as Doctor Walline...but when we're alone, I'll call you Doc Pansy."
He loved the blush that crept up her cheeks.
*
"You going to make house calls by horse or buggy?"
Mack wasn't surprised she hesitated, knowing by her relaxed posture she was enjoying herself on the horse he'd picked up at the livery for her.
"I suppose to be proper I should use a buggy, but..."
"You'd prefer to lope across the prairie at a faster speed?" Mack guessed at her wishful thought.
They'd walked the horses to warm them up when they left town, then let them have their heads and run for a while. Now they were back to walking, comfortably talking as they enjoyed the fresh air and scenery.
"Definitely. And I could wear a shirtwaist and split skirt instead of a dress."
"You remember meeting Mrs. Hilda Wilerson? The shorter of the tall Swedish twins?"
"Yes, she had a row of antsy kids in church."
"They’re just following their mother's boisterous personality. Anyway, you'll only see her in a dress on Sunday. Hilda always wears trousers at home."
Mack's Care (Grooms With Honor Book 4) Page 3
