~*~
Clark gazed down at Miss Blye, her lithe frame cradled in his arms, her big blue eyes looking up at him with a combination of embarrassment, and… pure defiance.
Recognition struck like a thunderclap.
He’d seen that look before. Not the embarrassment or the reluctant glimmer of gratitude, but he remembered that burning defiance. Staring into her eyes, Clark was sucked back in time, back to that hot Mississippi night when he’d sent his soul down the River Styx once and for all.
Miss Blye squirmed in his arms, jerking him back to the present. “You can put me down now.”
He snapped back to the present. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He gave himself a mental shake, and lowered her down, slipping his arm from beneath her knees. “Are you hurt? Did your foot catch?”
She brushed a thick swatch of hair behind her ear and quickly distanced herself from him. “I’m fine,” she clipped. “No thanks to you. You made me trip.”
He scoffed. “I made you trip? You refused my help.”
She fixed him with a haughty scowl. “Your insult me distracted me.”
Clark rolled his eyes. This was already shaping up to be a painful partnership. “Whatever you say, Princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.
Clark sucked in a long breath, forcing himself to calm down. He had just asked her to stay on despite the fact she’d accused him of ruining her life. “Let me get your things.” He strode to the back of the wagon. “Once you’re settled I’ll give you the grand tour.”
Miss Blye lifted a skeptical brow, shifting her attention to the building he’d poured every waking minute into cultivating as a home and medical clinic. Her expression was wholly unimpressed. Not surprising after the variable castle she’d grown up in down south.
Spoiled princess! He bit his tongue to prevent saying it aloud. He motioned toward the house instead. “The facility is hardly grand at this point, but one day it will be be.” He hefted her small trunk from the back of the cart and settled it easily onto one shoulder. “Do you have more belongings being shipped from back east?”
She speared him with cool stare. “I have no other belongings. Everything was lost in the fire.”
Clark grimaced. “I see.” All too familiar guilt dampened his irritation with her. He took a few steps toward the gate, hesitating as he passed her. “Miss Blye, no words can make up for what was taken from you. For what I took from you. But if you’ll give me the chance, I’d like to make it up to you in some measure.”
She lifted her chin and glared down her perfectly chiseled nose at him. Despite the fact that she stood more than a head beneath him, he had the distinct sense she was looking down at him.
His ire pricked again. “Look, Princess, I asked you to stay on despite our history, but if you can’t condescend to be civil then I suggest you hike on back to the dock and board that boat.”
~*~
Zoe scowled at his departing back. She didn’t appreciate his treating her like a petulant school child, not after what he’d done to her, but… he may have a small point. If she intended to stay here—and no viable alternative existed at the moment—she’d couldn’t continue this verbal sparring. If he sacked her...
Alarm shocked through her with the notion.
She’d be truly destitute if he released her from his employ. She sucked a calming breath deep into her lungs. She could be civil. She could be downright charming if need be. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her skirts and marched into the house.
Dr. West set her trunk on the wooden floor just inside the front door. He ignored Zoe completely as she stepped into the house. “Mrs. Carter,” he called, taking a few steps into the entryway. “Nurse Blye has arrived.”
“Wonderful!” The excited cry accompanied the hurried tap of her heeled shoes. An older woman with gray hair and sparkling blue eyes rounded the corner, grinning from ear to ear. “Miss Blye, welcome! The doctor and I have so anticipated your arrival.”
Zoe liked the woman instantly, and smiled warmly in return. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Carter.”
“Call me, Susan, please.” She stepped forward and took Both of Zoe’s hands in her own. “We are going to become great friends.”
“I quite agree, Susan, and do call me Zoe.”
“Zoe, what a lovely name.” The older woman released her hands. “Come along, dear, I have your room all ready. Once you’ve settled in I have refreshments prepared and the three of us can get to know each other over biscuits and lemonade.”
Zoe’s eyes flipped to Dr. West and their eyes locked. She knew they shared similar thoughts. What would Mrs. Carter think once she learned of their history? He gave a subtle shake of his head. She inclined her head slightly. Mississippi would be their secret.
“Clark,” Mrs. Carter waved toward the staircase. “Take Zoe’s things to the blue room.” She winked to Zoe. “It has the best view.”
Zoe followed them up the stairs, and down the single hall. The wooden floor creaked beneath their feet but seemed to be in good repair. The walls were freshly painted, and framed artwork decorated the hallway. Clark stopped at the last door and swung it open. “Where would you like the trunk?”
“Anywhere is fine,” she replied, stepping into the room behind him.
“I hope it’s to your liking,” Susan said proudly.
“It’s lovely,” Zoe replied. “Far better than the dormitory I shared with three other girls in Maryland.”
Zoe stood in the center of the room and turned a slow circle. It had been so long since she’d had her own space. The walls were crisply whitewashed, and dark wooden trim lined the walls and floor boards. The furniture was a mismatch of a wooden chest of drawers, a blue-topped bedside table, and a wooden bedframe. The room was simple, but clean and serviceable.
“We’ll leave you to get settled,” Dr. West said rather brusquely.
“If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask,” Mrs. Carter said cheerily.
The two of them passed through the door and closed it behind them. Zoe could hear them bantering back and forth as their footsteps thumped down the hall.
“Clark, you aren’t being terribly welcoming,” Mrs. Carter chastised.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Carter.”
“Miss Blye seems to be a fine young lady of good breeding.”
“Good breeding you say?”
“Yes! And we should count ourselves lucky she’s found our way to us.”
“Lucky indeed,” West replied dryly.
“Clark!” she scolded.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Carter, but I’m far less worried about her breeding than her abilities as a nurse.”
Their voices grew more distant until Zoe could no longer discern their conversations. With a heavy sigh, she flopped across the bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling. My fresh start is off to a fine start, she thought sardonically. She’d disembarked the steamboat less than an hour before, and she’d already jeopardized her future.
Why couldn’t she learn to control her mouth?
Zoe had a nasty habit of saying exactly what came to her head. It had gotten her into trouble more than a few times. Her mother had been convinced it was why she’d never snared a suitable beau. Her father, on the other hand, had encouraged Zoe to share her thoughts and opinions. He’d often said she was far too intelligent to settle for marriage to boorish fortune hunter.
Zoe closed her eyes, trying to process all that had transpired. Pity she couldn’t rewind the clock. Go back and keep her mouth shut when she’d first recognized Dr. West. Fate had proved time and again to be a cruel, vindictive entity.
She’d have to make the best of it. She pushed herself up and stared at the chest sitting in the middle of the floor. She had very little to her name. A nightgown, two spare dresses—one too fine for every day wear, an extra set of shoes and a handful of personal nick-knacks. She stood and crossed to the chest, running her fingers over the smoo
th top. After a moment she shoved the chest against the wall opposite the bed. No need to unpack. It would be easier to leave if things didn’t work out with Dr. West. Or if the unthinkable happened and Norman caught up with her.
She shuttered and quickly squashed the thought. Impossible. Norman couldn’t find her in Fort Benton. She’d taken herself so far from his version of the known world, he’d never track her down. If she could survive just a few months, maybe a year, in Dr. West’s employ she would gain experience and funds enough to be truly free.
Zoe face the round mirror atop the chest of drawers, assessing her reflection. Sometimes she didn’t even recognize herself. There was a time when she’d worn ribbons and fine gowns with her hair perfectly manicured into long ringlets. Today her curls were loosely pinned in a simple knot at the back of her head, and instead of carefree as she’d been before she looked… tired.
Her stomach rumbled and her mind turned to the promise of biscuits and lemonade. Truth be told, she’d been too nervous to eat breakfast on the boat, and was utterly famished. Internally she warred with the desire to stay secluded for a while longer or to seek out a snack. She sucked in a deep breath, and made eye contact with herself in the mirror. “You can do this, Zoe.” She smoothed her hair and schooled her features into a placid and amiable expression.
Steeling her courage for another encounter with Dr. West, she quit the room and made her way down the long hallway to the staircase, tracing back the direction she’d come. She followed the soft murmur of voices around the corner into a tidy parlor. She paused in the doorway.
Mrs. Carter and Dr. West glanced up. The kindly, gray haired woman beamed from ear to ear, and Dr. West leapt quickly to his feet.
“Come!” Mrs. Carter waved her over. “Sit! Have something to eat.”
“Thank you.” Zoe stepped into the room, determined to be as pleasant as possible, and to keep her opinions to herself. “I’m famished and the biscuits smell lovely.” She settled into a cushioned chair with Mrs. Carter on the right and Dr. West on her left. She smoothed her skirt and accepted a plate from Mrs. Carter.
“Mrs. Carter’s biscuits are famous across the Montana Territory,” Dr. West complimented. He didn’t attempt to make eye contact as he filled a glass with lemonade from the pitcher and placed it on the coffee table in front of Zoe.
Zoe needed no further invitation and lifted the warm, fragrant biscuit to her lips. She bit into the buttery bread and closed her eyes as it crumbled on her tongue, the flavor so familiar her heart ached. The biscuit tasted like Hattie’s. It tasted like home. Zoe chewed slowly, savoring every bite. She swallowed around the lump of sadness lodged in her throat. After a moment she forced herself to speak. “I must say, Mrs. Carter, I thought the doctor might be exaggerating, but these biscuits are beyond compare. Would you think ill of me if I had another?”
The older lady grinned and lifted the entire platter. “Certainly not, my dear. Take as many as you like.”
Zoe returned the kindly woman’s smile, relaxing just a little in the warmth of her soft gray eyes. She took another biscuit. “Tell me, Mrs. Carter, how did you come to live in Fort Benton?” Zoe preferred to keep the conversation steered away from herself and any former connection between her and Dr. West.
Mrs. Carter set the platter down on the coffee table and settled back in her chair with a glass of lemonade. “The western territory has been my home for the last thirty years. My late husband took part in the fur trade. Eventually we settled here in Fort Benton.”
“I purchased Mrs. Carter’s home after moving here,” Dr. West offered. “I told her of my intention to turn it into a hospital, and she graciously agreed to stay on.”
“A hospital?” Zoe blurted in surprise. “Not just a clinic?”
West nodded. “That’s my goal. One day I’d like to bring on other physicians and nurses, expand this place to have wards for convalescence, and a bigger surgery.”
Zoe had to admit his dream was impressive. “That is a noble ambition.”
He nodded, animating as he spoke of his plans. “I left medical college to join the army after the war started. Too late I realized I may have been more beneficial as a doctor.” Sorrow flickered in his dark eyes.
The remorse in his face struck Zoe. It seemed genuine, and it warred with the deep seeded resentment she harbored.
“Would you like to see the hospital?”
Her throat suddenly dried, biscuit catching in her throat with the thought of being alone with him again. She gulped some lemonade and cleared her throat. “Uh, certainly.” She forced a smile, trying to keep her thoughts on the present.
Mrs. Carter stood. “Dinner will be ready at six-thirty.” She flashed Zoe a motherly smile. “Enjoy your grand tour, Nurse Blye.”
Zoe nodded and followed West from the parlor.
He led her across the hall, past the stairs to another set of rooms. “I have divided the house into two sections,” he explained, “our living quarters, and the medical rooms.” He ushered her through the door and into a small chamber filled with chairs. “This is the patient waiting area,” he gestured broadly about the room, “and through here,” he strode to another door, “is the exam room.”
The examination room was orderly and surprisingly inviting. He had a desk and chairs situated against the far wall, and a cot made up with clean white linens in the center. Shelves laden with books and medicine lined the walls, and he’d decorated the space with artwork. Zoe slowly circled the room, stopping before a portrait of a young boy and a dog. She reached out and brushed her fingers over the canvas. “The paintings are a nice touch.”
“I thought it would put the patients more at ease.”
How very thoughtful… “Do many patients come to the clinic for care or do you travel for house calls?”
“Both.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Some days I’m pulled in so many directions I fear I’ll be ripped apart. Other days I may only see one or two people.”
“Do you perform operations in this room.”
“No. I have a separate surgery.” He waved her toward the door. “Come this way.” He took her back into the waiting room and down a short hallway to another door. He pushed into the room and she quickly followed. “This room has the best light, and I’ve hung mirrors that I can move to direct sunlight onto the operating table. I sometimes move the entire table into the best lighting.”
It was a brilliant set up. “In my training I held mirrors to direct the light during surgery.” A long and exhausting task. “During a long and rather smelly bowel procedure, my fingers went numb holding the mirror. The student beside me, Danielle Foster, dropped her mirror.”
Dr. West winced. “I imagine that ignited absolute fury from the surgeon.”
“He exploded,” Zoe confirmed. “His reaction almost made me drop my mirror!”
“What happened to the student?”
“Danielle promptly withdrew.”
“That’s unfortunate. Did you ever assist with the operations other than directing light?”
“I did. Mostly with passing instruments.”
“Have you any experience with administering anesthetic?”
She shook her head. “None. Nurse Harrow made it very clear that anesthetic medications should be administered only by the physician.”
Dr. West nodded. “I understand, but our resources are more limited here so I will teach you how to do it.”
Zoe’s eyes widened.
West raised a reassuring hand. “Not to worry, I’ll never ask you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
“And I’ll not hesitate to tell you no.” She circled the room, running her fingers along the shelves organized with books and surgical instruments. “There is much I have left to learn.”
“You are wise to recognize that,” he said softly. “Everyone expects the doctor to be all knowing, but…” his voice trailed off for a moment. “The truth is that I don’t have an answer more often than I’d care to admit
.”
His admission surprised Zoe. Surprisingly, she respected it. “We’ll learn together. You seem to have no shortage of textbooks.”
He chuckled. “And I use them all.” He paused for a moment. “You are welcome to any of these books, and, please, don’t hesitate to share any of your knowledge or ideas for the care of our patients.”
Heavy pounding on the clinic door saved Zoe from forming a response.
“Excuse me.” Dr. West quickly left the surgery to answer the door. Zoe lingered at the end of the hall, unable to see who was at the front door. “Captain Walters,” West said. “What brings you by?”
Walters stepped through the door, a full head shorter than Dr. West. He pulled his hat off. “I came by to check in on Nurse Blye.”
“Of course.” West motioned down the hall. “She’s right here.”
Zoe strolled casually over to the men. “Hello, Captain.”
Walters gave her a fatherly smile, eyes wrought with concern. “I wanted to say goodbye and ensure that you don’t wish to book a return passage. This will likely be your last opportunity to go East before next spring.”
“That is very kind.” Confusion swirled through Zoe, and the desire to flee on the riverboat threatened to swamp her. She steeled her fists in her skirts and with it her resolve. “But I’ve committed to this assignment, and I intend to see it through.” She unclenched her first and reached out to take Captain Walter’s weathered hand. “I wish you a very safe return trip.”
Walters nodded and squeezed her hand. “I’ll take my leave then. Best of luck, Miss Blye.”
Zoe stood in the open doorway and watched Captain Walters, her link to escape, amble down the walk and onto the dirt road. She all but trembled with the desire to run after him for the shelter of the riverboat. She watched until the kindly captain disappeared from view. “If you don’t mind, Dr. West, I think I’ll retire early. I’m quite tired after the long trip.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ll let Mrs. Carter know. We’ll start clinic promptly at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
A Nurse for Clark Page 2
