“You sure? You seem to be, well, I don’t know exactly.”
“I'm a doctor, Mr. Quinn. I know when I am feeling fine. Goodnight.”
“Night,” he mumbled. She could feel him staring after her. A little piece of her felt bad for treating him so coldly but then thinking of him playing with her feelings and those of the poor young girl, she decided he deserved it. That girl was young enough to be his daughter for goodness sake.
Chapter 31
Mick was determined to find out why Doc Erin was treating him with cold indifference. They had been getting on so well. He thought they had made some progress especially during Karl’s operation. She had been amazing, so calm and collected. He had got a bit of a shock walking into the tent and finding her in such a state of undress. He understood it was because of the heat but still it had unsettled him. She had such lovely skin. Apart from the burn he’d seen. She covered that up quickly though so he hadn’t commented further on it. Was that why she was upset? Had he offended her in some way. He couldn’t understand women. But he liked Erin. She was a good friend and he wanted to keep her as such.
“You busy today, Doc?”
Erin looked up, surprised to see Mick standing in the door to the clinic but smiling when she saw the basket on his arm.
“Bit late for a picnic, isn't it?” she said.
“Out here in Colorado, you take advantage of every opportunity you can get. If you wrap up warm you won't feel the cold.”
“Off you go, Doc Erin, you need some relaxation. If you get too cold, I am sure Mick can think of ways to warm you up.”
“Wilma. If Mrs. Grey heard you saying things like that, she would have a fit.”
“Mrs. Grey would give her full approval. She likes me,” Mick added.
“Don’t be too sure of that, Mr. Quinn. What requires my approval?”
Erin turned bright red as Mrs. Grey walked into the clinic. “What's going on? Why is our good doctor in such a state?”
“Mick just invited the doc for a picnic. I was just telling her she deserved to have a good time.” Wilma's expression was so sweet Mick had to look away.
“Hmm. Doc Erin does deserve a treat but you make sure you behave like a gentleman, Mick Quinn, or you will have me to deal with.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Mick said gravely as Erin got her cloak.
“Erin, I don’t know what I did to upset you the other day but I just wanted to apologize,” Mick said as he helped her into the wagon.
She immediately felt guilty. She’d been the one who was cool with him following her conversation with Alicia. Maybe Alicia had gotten it wrong. From what she’d heard about Mick, he wasn’t the type to take advantage of young girls. She decided to enjoy the day. Just because they were going for a picnic didn’t mean he wanted to court her. Or me, him.
“I was rude. I shouldn’t have snapped. Let’s forget about it and enjoy the day.”
They didn’t speak as he drove the wagon out to a pretty spot near the river.
“This is so beautiful and peaceful.”
“I’m glad you like it. Wilma packed the picnic so you don’t have to worry about being poisoned.”
“Wilma was in on this picnic. But she looked so surprised when you came into the clinic.”
“Course she was in on it. She had to be there to make sure the clinic wasn’t left unattended. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Grey, she scares me.”
Erin laughed at his admission. She didn’t believe anyone scared Mick Quinn.
“Anyway, Wilma packs a better picnic than I do.”
“I am sure you are capable of making a couple of sandwiches, Mr. Quinn.”
“Why can’t you call me Mick? Mr. Quinn sounds so formal.”
“Mick.”
They chatted about this and that for a while before settling down to their picnic. Erin found herself telling him things about her family she had never really told anyone. Including the fact that she and her pa had been estranged when he died.
Mick was fascinated by every detail Erin revealed about herself. She missed her family, that much was obvious.
“Your da would be real proud of you,” he said.
“How would you know?” she said smiling. “Does being a man make you an expert on every man even those you have never met?”
“Nope, but your da was a fireman. He cared about people just like you do. He died trying to help people. If he could do that, he would be proud of his little girl helping others the way you do. Nothing seems to frighten you. You always do what is right for the patient regardless of the consequences.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, tears making her eyes glisten. “I was on duty the night he died. By the time I got to see him, he was too far gone to be saved. I sat by his side willing him to regain consciousness so I could tell him I loved him, but he never did.”
He cleared his throat. He hadn’t wanted to stir up unhappy memories. Maybe he had been too personal in his observations but he liked seeing her smile. It brought her whole face alive.
“So, did you always want to be a doctor? Didn’t you ever want to get married and have a family?” He knew immediately he'd said the wrong thing. She sat up straighter and started packing away their picnic.
“Yes, I always wanted to be a doctor. You know you should have your leg examined again. Would you like me to look at it for you?”
“Why?”
“They have learned a lot about leg injuries in the last twenty years. There may be ways of making it less painful.”
“Who says its painful?”
“You do, every time your face screws up when you put your full weight on it.”
“You keeping a close eye on me, Doc?” His taunt hit the mark.
Her ears went pink as she pulled at the collar of her blouse. “No, it’s my job to help people. You said so yourself.”
“I said it was your job to help your patients. I ain't one of them.” He stood up trying not to wince as the injury hurt. The pain made him cranky. “Don’t you have enough patients to see without having to bully people into coming into the clinic?”
“I am not bullying anyone. I merely suggested—”
“No thanks, but I appreciate the reminder I'm a cripple.” He knew it wasn’t fair but he was so angry he didn’t really care.
“I never called you that name.”
“Look, Doc, I got lucky. Most men who were injured like I was died. The surgeon who worked on me saved my leg and my life and for that I am grateful. But he didn't exactly do a neat job. It ain't pretty so nobody sees what it looks like.”
“I am a doctor. I don’t judge wounds on the basis of some beauty competition.”
“So how do you judge people then? Because from where I am standing, you set a fairly low bar.”
She knew they were no longer talking about his leg but was rather mystified as to what exactly he meant.
“I don't follow you but you are obviously upset. I think its best if we headed back to town.”
“I saw him walking you home.”
“Who?”
“Your new friend.”
“You will have to be a little bit more specific. I am new to Clover Springs so that description could describe any one of a number of people.”
“Dickinson. I saw him walking you home.”
Horror dawned on her face. “He is not my friend. He walked me home one evening.”
“He held your arm. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“And you accused me of paying close attention to your leg. Since when did it become any of your business who escorts me anywhere. Of all the misguided...” Erin couldn’t continue as she was afraid she would use unladylike language. “Please take me home.”
“My pleasure.” His face was like thunder but she was too wound up to care. How dare he accuse her of being friendly with the man who hurt Mollie and the other girls. Did he know nothing of her character?
The journey back to Clover Springs passed in silence and lasted what seemed like an
eternity. She held herself rigid as he helped her down from the wagon. Without a word or a glance in his direction she walked into the clinic and slammed the door shut behind her. Thankfully it was empty so there was nobody to see her behaving like a child.
Minutes later, a banging on the door got her attention. If he thought he was going to apologize and they would be back to being...
“Oh my God. What happened to her?”
Mick stood on the step, cradling an unconscious and badly beaten Mollie in his arms.
“Who did this to Mollie?”
“I found her collapsed outside on the street. Is she going to be all right?”
Erin couldn’t give him false hope. The girl looked to be badly injured. “We won't know until I clean her up. If the injuries are superficial, skin deep, she will heal. But if there are internal injuries....” Erin didn’t complete the sentence. Judging by the look on his face, she didn’t have to.
“I’m going to kill him for this.”
“No point in talking about that now.”
Mick watched as Erin carefully examined the young girl.
“Mick, can you get the bath down. We need to fill it with warm water. I have to wash the blood and grime away before I can tend to her properly.” Erin spoke quietly, her eyes full of unshed tears.
Mick nodded, he couldn’t speak. He was glad there was something practical he could do. He wanted to go back to the Red Feathers and hang whomever was responsible from the balcony but that wouldn’t help anyone.
“Should I get Mrs. Grey or Mrs. Shipley?”
“No. Wilma. Get Wilma,” Mollie murmured becoming agitated.
“Mick will get Wilma, Mollie darling. You got to stay as still as possible. I want to check for broken bones.”
Mick walked as quickly as he could to the orphanage hoping to find Wilma alone, but Little Beaver was with her.
“Sorry to barge in but Doc Erin needs your help. Mollie got hurt. She's been beaten real bad.” Mick failed to keep the panic from his voice.
Wilma stood. She grabbed her shawl from a peg before getting a bowl of something from the cupboard. “This will help her. It don't smell too good which is why I keep it covered. Nandita gave me some extra ingredients to improve on my ole nanna's recipe.”
Mick and Little Beaver followed after Wilma.
“You know who hurt her?”
“Not yet, she ain't talking.” Mick snapped.
“But you think you know.”
Mick stopped walking. “You and I know if it wasn’t Dickie himself, it was one of his customers. He stood by while this happened. In my book that makes him as guilty as if he was the one who roughed her up.”
Little Beaver looked stern. “Mick, leave this to the sheriff.”
“I don't know if I can do that.”
Little Beaver's eyes showed he understood. “Do not go alone. If you have to do something, make sure I am with you.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
Little Beaver followed Mick into the clinic but they didn’t go into the examination room. They didn’t have to, they could hear Mollie groaning from where they stood. Mick clenched and unclenched his fist. He couldn’t bear to hear the girl in so much pain.
Erin washed Mollie's body as gently as she could. She was covered in cuts and bruises, some showing the clear marks of fingerprints. Erin was most concerned about a nasty looking bruise around her stomach area. It was big enough to have been caused by a kick.
She spoke to Mollie the whole time but the girl kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Wilma supported her head making sure her face was kept out of the water.
Only when she was washed and fully dried did they start rubbing in the salve. It stank to high heaven but Erin had known Wilma long enough to trust her.
“Last time we used this stuff was on Little Beaver's wife, Asha. She was in a bad way and it made her better. Hopefully it will do the same for Mollie.” Wilma brushed Mollie's hair tenderly off her face. “You hear me, Mollie, you got to fight. Come back to us, please. Your friends are waiting to see you. You ain't never going back to that house, I swear to you, girl.”
“How are we going to prevent him taking her?”
“I don’t know, Doc Erin, but slavery was abolished twenty years ago. She ain't going back there.”
“Of course she ain't going back. I will kill Dickie first,” Mick said as he and Little Beaver came in once Mollie was decently dressed and in bed.
Erin moved toward Mick. “Please don't go near Dickie. At least not on your own.”
“Don’t think I am man enough to face him?”
Erin took a step back from the anger in his tone matched by his face.
“My limp ain't never stopped me standing my ground. If you think I'm going to let him get away with doing that, you don't know me at all.”
“For goodness sake, your limp has nothing to do with it. Dickie is a dangerous man. He's going to be waiting for you. Mollie needs you here. You and Wilma are the only friends she's got. Put your stupid male pride aside for once and concentrate your energy where it's needed.”
Erin stormed off on the pretext of getting something from another room but in reality she had to get away. The girl's bruised and battered body was too familiar. She didn't have to imagine the pain she was in, she knew.
Chapter 32
“Mollie is very ill, Mick. I am...”
“She'll be fine, she's a fighter,” Mick said not wanting to believe Erin's prognosis. He couldn’t lose Mollie as well. “With all of you looking after her, how could she not get better?”
He didn't like the way Mrs. Grey, Emer, and Wilma wouldn't meet his eyes. He turned to Erin, her gaze was fixed on his but, in a way, it was worse. Her eyes were full of compassion.
“Why don't you walk me back to the boarding house?”
“Sorry Doc, I am staying here until she wakes up.”
“She isn’t going to wake up for a while. I sedated her to allow her body to heal.” Erin picked up her cloak. “Come back with me and have some lunch. I hate to eat alone.”
Mick didn't want to leave but at the same time, he didn't want to sit around staring at Mollie all day either. He had things to sort out.
“I will walk you back but I ain't in the mood for lunch. I got stuff to do anyway,” he said.
“Mick, please don't go to see Dickinson. Leave him for the law to sort out.”
Mick couldn’t miss the pleading in her eyes. She did care for him. Whether as a friend or more, he wasn't sure, but it wasn't time to be thinking of that now.
“I ain't going near Dickie. I need to go speak to Cookie.”
He walked Erin back to the boarding house, thankful she was quiet too.
“Are you sure you won't have something to eat?” She tried once more.
“I couldn’t stomach anything, but thanks.”
Erin smiled a sad smile before going in and closing the door behind her.
Mick walked slowly to the telegraph office. He knew Cookie would agree with what he was doing. He had been tellin’ him for long enough to cut his ties with Virginia. He should have done it earlier. Then he would have been able to buy Mollie out of her contract and she wouldn’t be lying in the clinic at death's door. He had let her down just as much as his sisters.
He sent the telegram to the Stephensons to say the farm was up for sale. He knew they would jump at the chance to buy it. He trusted them to arrange everything at their end. He called in to the bank to see what he needed to do. Then he took his horse and headed out to see Cookie. He needed the older man's calming influence.
Erin didn't eat much and sleep eluded her. She washed and returned to the clinic. There was no change in Mollie. Why hadn't she done something? She knew the girl was in danger yet she hadn't rescued her.
“This ain't your fault, Doc Erin,” Wilma said softly as they sat at either side of Mollie's bed. “The only one responsible is Dickie.”
“I should have made more of an effort to keep her safe.�
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“You did all you could and more. The girls told me how you stood up to Dickinson. How you got them regular meals, hot water and all. Not many people would do anything like that for soiled doves.”
“But it wasn't enough, was it?” Angrily, Erin dashed the tears from her eyes. It wouldn't do any good crying about it. This was real life out West. No different from back East really. Some lives just weren't important enough to matter. Whether they be penniless immigrants off the boat, war veterans whose injuries prevented them from working so their families went hungry, or young girls like Mollie lured into prostitution on the pretext of a better life. There had to be something she could do.
She stood up. Her mam said there was always something to be done. She just had to find it.
“Where you going, Doc? You got a look on your face that means trouble.”
“I am not sitting here while he goes scot-free. I am going to find Mr. Dickinson and have him arrested for the murder of Kathryn and the attempted murder of Mollie.”
“But no body was ever found.”
“He doesn't know that. He said she got the train out of Clover Springs. We both know Matthews is way too nosy to miss a soiled dove attempting to ride his train without a ticket.”
“I is coming with you.” Wilma stood up.
“Wilma, sit down and mind Mollie.”
Determined to find Dickinson, Erin knew she first had to locate Little Beaver and the sheriff. The Indian had warned her they had to play by the book if they ever wanted to get Dickinson. Well, she didn't have to tell them everything did she? First, she went home and found what she was looking for. Then she went to the jailhouse where she found both of them.
“Sheriff, Little Beaver, I need you to arrest Dickinson for murder.”
“Murder, Doc? That's a big leap.”
“Did Mollie die?” Little Beaver asked.
“No, although she is gravely ill. I am going to confront Dickinson now. I want you to come with me and hear his confession.”
Erin Page 13
