Bluebonnet Belle

by Lori Copeland

  They laughed at the extravagant thought. Rich? That was pretty funny, all right.

  “I don’t want to live like rich folks,” she whispered. “I just want to be with you—even if that would mean that we don’t have a penny in our pocket.”

  “Has your grandmother been questioning you again?”

  Datha shrugged. “No more than usual. She don’t like us seeing each other.”

  A frown put a crease between his brows. “She’s got no call to feel that way.”

  Datha turned her head, looking away from him. “She says you’ll go off to school and forget all about me.”

  He pulled her into his arms, laughing away her fears. “Don’t you be worrying your pretty head about that. You’re my woman. No way could I forget you. We’re going to be together for always, and when I’m finally a lawyer no one can say anything about what we do. We’ll get married, buy us a place for ourselves and do exactly what we want. It won’t matter then what folks say.”

  Early Monday morning, Henry limped into Dr. Fuller’s office, nodding to two women already seated in the waiting room.

  Sitting where he could stretch his foot out in front of him, he settled down for a wait. This was his fifth visit for treatment, and he’d yet to come in when the waiting room was empty.

  No doubt about it, Gray Fuller was carving a nice little niche for himself in this town.

  Well, that was just fine. Henry planned to carve a niche for himself—only it wasn’t going to be in Dignity.

  The door of the examining room opened, and Gray followed Mary Rader out. “Remember, Mary. Rest. Get some exercise, and I want to see you in two weeks.”

  “All right, Doctor.”

  Gray watched her leave, then turned to the waiting patients.

  Grinning, Henry stood up. “Good morning, Doctor.”

  “Henry. How’s the toe?”

  “Better, I think.”

  Gray smiled. “Let’s take a look at it.”

  Glancing around the crowded waiting room, Henry frowned. “I think there are others ahead of me.”

  The doctor’s eyes grimly assessed the baskets resting on the women’s laps. Smells of roast beef and dumplings wafted from beneath the checkered cloths. “I’m sure the women won’t mind a small delay.”

  Henry followed Gray into the examining room. “How are things going, Doc? I see the ladies are still flocking in to see you.”

  “I’m not going hungry,” he admitted as he unwrapped the toe. He paused a moment, examining it. “Seems to be coming along fine.”

  “It’s better,” Henry agreed.

  Gray cleaned and dressed the injury.

  “Heard you live upstairs.” That wasn’t all Henry had heard. He’d heard that that fancy Frenchwoman came to visit him on a regular basis. Henry winced as the doctor worked, then he grinned knowingly. “What is it about us professional men that attracts women like flies?”

  “I don’t know—what do you think it is?”

  “It’s the aura of success. That’s been my experience.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Women are easily influenced. A man with the determination to succeed draws them like honey.”

  “You’ve experienced this personally?”

  Henry laughed. “Man to man? I have found women fascinated by success. Careful, Doc. It’s still tender.”

  He winced as Gray rebandaged the toe.

  “When my partners and I were in Austin, I was in a café, having a cup of coffee, and a woman came over to my table and invited me out. I must say, she was a pleasant diversion.”

  “Hmm,” Gray murmured.

  “I find ladies in the city more adventurous, don’t you? This one in Austin is something. More worldly than the girl I’m seeing here. The one here’s beautiful, gentle, genuinely caring, but innocent.” He punched Gray on the shoulder. “Know what I mean?”

  Gray straightened and reached for a brown bottle of medication. “You’re seeing a woman in Austin and one in Dignity?”

  “Well, the woman is actually from Burgess, but yes, ungentlemanly of me and—” Henry shrugged “—foolish. If one should ever learn of the other…Well, you know what I mean.”

  “I believe I do.”

  “I don’t like to think about it,” Henry conceded. He was playing with fire, no doubt. “I shouldn’t be seeing the other woman, but when I’m with Grace—” he winked “—my best intentions fly right out the window.”

  “What about the woman you’re seeing here?”

  “Sweet innocence. My bluebonnet belle.”

  “Is that wise? Courting two women at the same time?”

  “Ah, that’s the problem. Yes, it is foolhardy, but I find myself overly fond of both. I’ve known one all my life. She’s been the flower in my life in this otherwise colorless garden. But she isn’t Grace.”

  “She’s Bluebonnet Belle.”

  “Yes, my innocent little flower. No doubt after I’ve sown my wild oats I’ll settle for April. She’s a wonderfully bright woman. And just as lovely as Grace. But Grace…Grace makes me feel alive, good. I find myself in quite a dilemma.”

  Gray finished wrapping the toe and indicated he could sit up.

  Henry pulled on his sock and reached for his shoe. “Think my foot will be healed in time for me to return to her next week?”

  “I don’t see any reason it shouldn’t. Just wear comfortable shoes, and allow plenty of air to the wound.”

  “Good. I’m looking forward to getting back.” He winked slyly. “And not just for fun. The Pinkham formula is about to take off.” He raised a hand, palm toward the doctor. “I know your opinion of the elixir. April’s been very clear about your position. But your opposition doesn’t stifle our enterprising spirit.”

  Henry preceded Gray from the examining room. “Thank you, Gray—you don’t mind that I call you Gray? You seem more like a peer than a doctor.”

  Fuller’s expression sobered. “A friendly word of advice, Henry. I’d be careful not to find myself caught between two very angry women.”

  “That would be awful, wouldn’t it?” Laughing, he clasped the doctor on the shoulder. “See you when I get back.”

  Henry Long was an idiot.

  Leaning back in his chair, Gray relished one of the few quiet moments he’d had lately. His mind kept turning over Henry’s troubling revelation of that morning, trying to absorb the ramifications.

  The man was seeing a woman near Austin, as well as Riley’s granddaughter, April. Bluebonnet Belle.

  Henry was playing with a loaded gun. It was evident that neither woman knew about the other. Christian principles aside, the man was out of his mind.

  April was enamored of Henry Long. Gray had recognized that the night he’d found her on the porch with Henry’s letter in her lap.

  April had been so quick to talk about her faith that he wondered if Henry was a Christian, too. The way he was behaving, treating women like toys, was definitely not Christlike. In Gray’s line of work he saw all kinds, but he tried to show God’s love to everyone on an equal basis, regardless of that person’s social or financial standing. He thought of Francesca and what she expected of him. At first he’d been strongly attracted to her, certain that he wanted to marry her, and he’d been happy enough to take Louis’ money to help start his career. Now he wished he’d never met father or daughter. God would have provided a way for him to meet his needs without becoming entangled with the DuBois family. Gray had tried to be honest with Francesca, tried to break her smothering hold, though she stuck tighter than a sandbur.

  But he wasn’t openly lying as Henry was. It was shabby, not to mention foolish, of Long to court two women at the same time. But it wasn’t Gray’s place to inform Riley’s spirited granddaughter of what the man was doing.

  She didn’t want Gray’s opinion about anything.

  His previous encounters with her had been confrontational, and he didn’t intend to goad her further by butting into her business. Her grandfath
er’s health was too important; the last thing he wanted was her feeding Riley herbal remedies and refusing Gray’s help. She’d made it clear that what he thought didn’t matter.

  April and her “vegetable compound.”

  She had called him a quack. Far be it from him to cross her again by telling her she was involved with a skunk.

  Picking up a chart, he turned to the more pressing problem of Mary Rader. Studying his notes, he shook his head.

  Mary had been one of his first patients. In her late twenties, married, she suffered with cramps so severe she was reduced to bed nearly two weeks out of the month.

  The situation was even more frustrating in that Mary’s husband had no understanding of the difficulties she was experiencing. Severn Rader was becoming increasingly more belligerent that his wife had not conceived.

  The situation had worn Mary down. Her face often had a waxen cast, a look of despair. Gray never concluded a situation was hopeless, but he was beginning to suspect this one might be.

  He leaned back in his chair, his gaze passing over the large bottle of Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. It sat there on the shelf where he’d left it earlier. He had intended to dispose of it, but had never gotten around to it.

  Leaning forward, he reached for the jug and uncorked the bottle. He sniffed it. His eyebrows lifted. Definitely a high herbal content, but Pinkham claimed there was nothing in it to harm a person.

  Still, he knew the mind was a strong influence. If the brain were convinced the elixir was helpful, then the body often believed it. He’d tried everything he could think of to treat Mary’s problems outside of surgery, which he didn’t want to do.

  Studying the jug of compound, he toyed with an idea. It wasn’t his first choice, but he wasn’t as closed-minded as April Truitt thought him to be.

  Lacing his fingers behind his head, he leaned back in his chair and studied the bottle pensively. She accused him of being headstrong and narrow-minded about women’s problems.

  Was he?

  He focused again on the jug of amber liquid.

  Why not prove Miss Truitt wrong? Why not conduct his own studies on the effectiveness, or lack of effectiveness, of Pinkham’s elixir? A couple of spoonfuls a day couldn’t hurt Mary and might even convince her she was being effectively treated, which in turn would allow her to relax.

  If she relaxed, her situation might alleviate itself.

  Reaching for the jug, Gray took a small brown bottle from a lower shelf and filled it with compound. Printing Mary’s name and the dosage on a label, he affixed it to the bottle and set it on his desk to await her next appointment.

  Leaning back in his chair again, he crossed his arms, grinning.

  There, April.

  Now who’s the bigoted one?

  “How are you feeling this week, Mary?”

  Gray’s hopes that Mary Rader was feeling better faded the moment she came into his office two weeks later. If possible, she looked paler than before.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. “I don’t know anymore, Doctor. I’ve forgotten what feeling good is like.”

  They were sitting in Gray’s office, he behind his desk, she in front of it, twisting a lace handkerchief into a tight knot.

  Gray knew there was no need to examine her. He’d done so, from head to toe, and found no definitive problem that he could fix. Mary had female problems, and other than surgery that would dissolve all hopes of having a family, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He had never felt so frustrated by a medical condition in his career.

  “Well, Mary, I know we both hoped to avoid surgery, but it looks as if that’s our only alternative.”

  Twisting the handkerchief, Mary stared back at him, frightened, near tears again. “When?”

  “As soon as I get you built up a little.” Reaching for the small brown bottle of Pinkham’s compound sitting on his desk, he smiled reassuringly at her. “There’s something I’d like you to try, Mary. A tonic. Frankly, I don’t know how much it will help, but I know it won’t hurt.”

  He wasn’t going to hold out false hope to her. If it helped in any measure, it would enhance her physical condition for the surgery. Handing her the bottle, he instructed her on the dosage.

  She viewed the compound with lifeless eyes. “Will this stop the misery?”

  “No, Mary. I’m only trying to get you stronger before I perform the surgery. Take a couple of teaspoons a day for the next few weeks, and then come back. We’ll set up a time.”

  Wiping tears from her eyes, she got up and followed him to the door. “Two teaspoons a day?”

  “Three, if you like.” It couldn’t hurt.

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Taking her hand, he held it momentarily. “I know you’re scared. I would be, too.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wish there was another way.”

  “I’ve done all I know to do, Mary. I’m as frustrated as you are, but there’s no alternative.”

  “Severn is going to be angry. He wants children.”

  Patting her shoulder, Gray said quietly, “I’m sure he’s more concerned about your health. If he wants to talk to me, have him stop by the office. I’m here every night until late.”

  “Ah, indeed, we’re leaving first thing in the morning,” Henry confessed as he and April ate dinner that evening. The hotel dining room was quiet tonight, affording them much-needed privacy. “Dan and Will want to get in a full day, if they can. We might have to travel as far as San Antonio—even Brownsville this time.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon,” April admitted.

  Taking her hand, he stroked it gently. “We must make progress on marketing the compound soon, or I’ll be out of a job.”

  “I know. I was hoping the trip to Austin would be more successful. I hate the times we’re apart.”

  Henry’s forehead furrowed. “As I do, dearest. We’re doing everything possible, but women are reluctant to try something new. You know that.”

  “Lydia and I have written more advertising copy and pamphlets. Poor Isaac traveled here, sick as he is to help fold the pamphlets and pack them. He’s so supportive of Lydia’s work.”

  “He should be,” Henry muttered. “If the compound isn’t successful, the Pinkhams will meet financial ruin.”

  “You will faithfully write, won’t you?”

  “Of course, darling. Have I ever failed?”

  Later, as Henry walked April home, he drew her close to his side. “I am going to miss you dreadfully,” he whispered.

  Warmth flooded April’s cheeks. “So will I. I was thinking. Perhaps I can come for a visit—”

  “No!” Henry said quickly. “No,” he repeated more gently, when he noted her shocked countenance. “I won’t hear of it. It’s much too far—you would need a chaperone—No, it’s out of the question.”

  As they approached the mortuary, he pressed another benign kiss on her forehead, whispering, “How I am tempted to linger, but we’d best part quickly, my love. I wouldn’t want to upset Riley.”

  “You’ll be so lonely! Perhaps I could travel to San Antonio and take a train to—”

  “Such a lovely thought, but I will cloak myself in loneliness and count the moments until we are together once more.”

  “You promise to write?”

  “Of course, dearest. Every day.”

  April stopped by the pharmacy late the next afternoon. With Henry gone, she had time on her hands.

  The smells of herbs and liniment filled the shop. April always liked coming here. The creaky wooden floors, whitewashed walls and plain shelves were friendly. Beulah’s plants hung in the windows, the southern light and her green thumb keeping them healthy as their trailing vines framed the wide windows. Over the years many a homemaker had pinched a start from Beulah’s plants.

  “Hi. Doing anything later?”

  “Me? Nothing. Why?”

  “Oh, I’m just lonely.”

  “Henry off again?”

&nbs
p; “Yes.” She sighed. “He left for Austin this morning.”

  “Well, I’ve got a remedy for your melancholy. Just let me finish up, then we’ll eat dinner out tonight.”

  “We should go to the quilting bee. We haven’t been in a while.”

  “I don’t want to go sew on some old quilt. Let’s splurge and eat at the hotel.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had dinner with Grandpa hardly at all lately.”

  “He doesn’t mind, does he?”

  Actually, he didn’t. April knew he would eat quickly and retire to the porch to play checkers with Jimmy.

  As the two women walked home after a late supper, April filled Beulah in on her day.

  “Did Will and Dan accompany Henry this morning?”

  “Yes. I hope they’re successful. We can’t afford many more setbacks.”

  “Speaking of Dan Pinkham, what do you think of him?”

  April shrugged. “He’s nice. He has some political ambitions.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Why?”

  “Just wondering.” Beulah sighed.

  “I think Will is much nicer. He has kind eyes, though I don’t much care for the long muttonchops.”

  “Dan’s beard is nice.”

  April laughed lightly. “I don’t know why our opinion matters. Both men are married.”

  Beulah released another long sigh. “All the good ones are, except Dr. Fuller, of course. But I did notice a nice young man in the doctor’s waiting room a few weeks ago. A medical equipment and supplies salesman.”

  “Oh? And did you happen to notice whether he was married and what his name was?”

  “I might have, but since you’re being so snippy, I don’t think I’ll share it with you. I did notice that woman was back to visit Dr. Fuller the other day.”

  April’s eyes rolled toward the sky with exasperation. “Haven’t you anything better to do than spy on people?”

  “Not really. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what she’s done to his living quarters?”

  April stopped short. “No, nor should you be. You’re becoming obsessed with Gray, and it has to stop.”