I hope one day you’ll see me as something other than a monster… the words refused to give her peace.
Guilt wormed its way into her mind. She probably shouldn’t have been so harsh with him after the Kent girl’s visit. He clearly had no interest in encouraging her affections. Perhaps she should go find him.
In truth Zoe didn’t see him as a monster. Not any longer. The fact surprised her in no small measure, but after working alongside him she could scarcely reconcile him as the man she’d encountered in the war. He was kind and gentle, very intelligent, and seemed to want nothing more than to heal the world that had torn itself apart just a few short years ago. The cavalry officer she’d clashed with in the war was a mere shadow of the real man. A demon created by circumstance.
She stopped at the front gate and sighed, turning on her heel she went back into the house to search for Dr. West.
“Is that you, Zoe?” Susan called.
“I forgot something,” Zoe replied, not about to admit that she was looking for West to invite him along.
First she peeked in the parlor. No West. She then checked his study, certain she’d find him reading there. Still no West. Perhaps he’d gone outside. She stepped onto the front porch but found it empty. How odd, it seemed he’d disappeared! She’d check the backyard, and if she didn’t find him there she’d go hunting for herbs alone. The wooden steps creaked as she skipped down them. “Clark?” she called, rounding the corner of the house. “Are you out here?”
He appeared suddenly, coming around the corner at the very back of the building, surprise lining his face. “You called me Clark.”
Zoe blinked. “Did I?” After a moment she shrugged. The name had flowed so naturally from her tongue she hadn’t realized she’d spoken it. “Well, it is your name, and you asked me to do so.”
A little twinkle lit his eyes, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a shy half smile. It melted years from his face, making him appear almost boyish. “So I did.”
“Are you ready to go?” She held up the basket.
Disbelief flashed over his face, but he quickly masked it. “Absolutely. Did you let Mrs. Carter know we’re going out?”
“Yes, and she asked that we gather wild flowers to make wreaths for the upcoming harvest festival.” She cast him a dubious glance. “She seems convinced that I will find a beau at the festival.”
Clark waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about Mrs. Carter. She has rather romantic notions and feels the need to marry off every unwed man or woman of her acquaintance.”
Zoe laughed. “It’s a pity she never had her own children to play matchmaker with.”
Clark held the gate open for her and she sidled past him onto the hard packed road. “Have you ever been married?” he asked suddenly.
“No,” she replied, surprised by the personal train of questioning. He usually kept their interactions completely professional. “I’ve never been married or engaged. I did have a cousin who was rather adamant that we wed, but that was entirely one sided.” She shuddered at the thought of Norman. “Have you?”
He shook his head. “There’s never been time.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “Or the right woman.”
A shiver of awareness flickered through her, and she’d swear a hint of suggestion lived in his eyes. “Oh, but what of Miss Kent?” Zoe teased, quick to divert the conversation. “She is obviously smitten with you.”
Clark groaned. “Lord, have mercy.” He shook his head. “I’ve done nothing to encourage her attentions, but nothing dissuades her or her mother.”
“I imagine there aren’t many eligible gentlemen in this part of the country.”
“There are more than you might think.”
“Few with your level of education then.”
“That may be, but I have very little patience for silly girls half my age. I think she fancies getting out of this place and believes I won’t last here for long.”
Zoe nodded thoughtfully. “Life here certainly isn’t for the faint of heart. I admit, I’m quite nervous about the upcoming winter. I saw snow for the first time when I traveled to the Harrow school for training.”
“The weather here is a bit different than the deep south,” Clark agreed. “I experienced a bit of climate shock when I traveled south in the war.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Take it from experience, it’s much easier to come from the heat to the cold. You’ll fare perfectly well.”
She shot him a skeptical glance. “I think you’re shining me, Dr. West.”
He clasped a hand playfully against his chest, feigning offense. “Surely not, Nurse Blye.”
“Where do you hail from then?” she asked pleasantly. “Originally?”
“Michigan,” he replied. “The state is almost entirely surrounded by water. We have humidity to rival Mississippi in the summers, and enough snow to bury a barn in the winter.”
Zoe’s eyes widened and her toes curled in her shoes… anticipating the cold. “Will we have that much snow here?”
Clark laughed allowed. “You needn’t look so horrified. Snow is really quite magical.”
Zoe shuttered. “No, it isn’t. Snow is really quite cold. We’ll have to gather plenty of herbs to dry and preserve.” She reached into the basket and plucked a piece of rolled paper from the bottom. “I made a list.”
“We won’t have that much snow,” he reassured, smiling openly with amusement. He took the list from her hand. His calloused fingers brushed across hers, the touch fleeting and yet the warmth lingered unexpectedly on her skin, giving her pause.
Suddenly nervous with heightened awareness she glanced over at him. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way. Tall and burly, he had the hands and stature of a working man. At most he shaved twice a week and had a perpetual scruff of whiskers. He never wore a neck tie or cravat, and the simple Stetson slanted atop his head gave him the appearance of an outlaw as opposed to a doctor. He was far different from the men she’d known growing up. Men who’d worn fine clothes and lived in the lap of luxury until the war. Men who’d spoken of nothing but money, and competed for who had the most finery and opulence. Men who’d quite frankly bored her to tears. None of those men had elicited such a reaction from her with the barest and most innocent of touches.
She clenched her fingers at her side. What is wrong with me? Am I attracted to Dr. West?
“This is an impressive list,” he said, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “Elderberry for inflammation, blackberries for dysentery, dandelion to cleanse the liver and urinary tract, sagebrush for headaches and colds. You’ve done your research.”
She nodded. “Based on my reading we should find these plants in this part of Montana.”
“There is certainly no shortage of sagebrush,” Clark said wryly.
“So I’ve noticed. It’s not the prettiest of plants.” Zoe laughed, spirits lifting as she realized this was the most she’d laughed in years. Strange that he’d be the man she was laughing with. “It appears to have many medicinal uses though. Did you know that sage can be used to treat skin infections as well?”
“I hadn’t heard that.” He appeared genuinely interested in the information. “Should we run out of bromine, I will give Sagebrush poultices a try.”
A slow satisfied smile stretched Zoe’s lips and settled there, refusing to be suppressed. It was nice to have her knowledge and opinions appreciated by a man. Heart and step lighter than she could recall in quite some time she drew a deep breath of the early autumn air. It smelled of fall leaves and river water as the two of them strolled leisurely into the rolling countryside. The overgrown grassy fields waved in the breeze and glowed a golden hue in the evening sun. Open spaces stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with trees and shrubs.
Zoe and Clark spent the next hour gathering flowers and herbs, and in friendly conversation. Zoe found herself relaxed and enjoying his company more and more each day. She chose not to dwell on her mounting attraction to him, and simply appreciated that she�
�d found a safe haven in a most unexpected place with a most unexpected man.
“This is a very pretty flower.” She bent over to pluck a lovely purple boom, but a strange buzzing gave her pause. “Did you hear—” Zoe stopped short, her eyes focusing on a brown snake with half it’s body coiled, it’s tail pointed straight up, and its head poised to strike.
Rattlesnake!
She’d read of these. Before she could think or move the rattler launched and sank it’s fangs into the skirts surrounding her leg.
~*~
“No!” Horror overtook Clark as he powerlessly watched the large rattlesnake launch into Zoe’s skirts from a solid ten feet away. He fluidly slipped a knife from the sheath strapped to his boot and hurled himself to action. The snake recoiled and he feared it would strike again. Brandishing the knife in his left hand, he grabbed the snake right at the base of it’s diamond shaped head and pinned it to the ground. Without hesitation he swung his blade down and swiftly severed the rattler’s head from it’s body. The serpent’s body writhed for a few seconds before falling limp in the grass.
He slipped the knife back into the sheath and stood, facing Zoe. “Did it bite you?”
Zoe stared down at the large snake, face pale with shock and fear. “I-I’m not sure. I...” She swayed on her feet.
Clark quickly strode forward and caught Zoe as she slumped into the tall grass. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “It’s going to be all right.” Her petite frame trembled violently in his arms. “Zoe,” he said urgently. “I need to check your leg and make sure the snake didn’t bite you. Rattlers are venomous.”
She nodded shakily. “I know. I’ve read about them.”
Of course she had. She read about everything! He pulled her thick skirt and petticoats up exposing her bare leg. He carefully inspected every inch of her milky flesh. No visible puncture marks. No blood. Her skin appeared to be intact, her leg perfectly slender and smooth. “I don’t see any bite marks. Do you have any pain?”
“No.”
“Is your vision becoming blurred?”
She shook her head.
“Any nausea?”
“No.” She drew a deep breath. “I think it only bit my skirt.”
Clark sagged with relief. “Thank god for that.”
“Y-you saved my life,” Zoe murmured tremulously. “You-you grabbed that rattler with your bare hand and killed it!”
His eyes locked with hers. The helplessness and dread that had swamped him just beginning to ebb. “I’d never forgive myself if it hurt you.”
A shimmer of tears glassed Zoe’s eyes. “Thank you.” Impulsively she leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck. The gesture shocked him in no small measure. It had been so long since he’d been intimately close to a woman, believed he deserved to be, that he scarcely knew how to respond. Especially with her! She was beautiful and he little more than a beast. She was the one person he couldn’t hide the truth from. One of the few people who’d seen him at his worst.
And yet she’d just thrown herself into his arms.
Clark drew a ragged breath, haunted by visions of the rattler hurtling toward Zoe, and let instinct take over. He tugged her firmly against his chest, returning the embrace, and reassuring himself that she was truly all right. Rosewater, sweet and alluring, lingered on her skin and hair, surrounding him and igniting a deep buried longing. The warm weight of her lithe frame felt so good in his arms. So right. He wanted nothing more than to keep her safe… protected. What if he’d lost her moments ago? He buried his face in the crook of her neck, allowing his lips to rest against her soft skin. It wasn’t a kiss, but for just a second he could pretend it was. Reason warred with his rising passion.
He shouldn’t hold her.
Shouldn’t allow himself to dream.
But he couldn’t resist.
To his regret, she drew away, but remained close. “Let’s go back to the house before another rattlesnake appears.”
Clark cleared his throat. “Good idea,” he said gruffly. He stood quickly and helped her to her feet, avoiding eye contact. If he looked into her eyes again he’d be undone.
“We had no shortage of snakes in Mississippi. Coral snakes and copperheads.” She scooped up her basket. “I was fortunate never to have encountered any as close as that rattler.”
Clark simply nodded, only listening with half an ear.
“How is a rattlesnake bite treated should a patient come to the clinic?”
Clark’s heart fell as he realized Zoe hadn’t been nearly as affected by the embrace as he had. She saw herself as his nurse, and nothing more.
~*~
Anger burned deep in Norman Blye’s belly as he leaned against the corner of the local livery stable, gaze narrowed on his deceitful cousin. How dare Zoe run away from him? He’d offered her protection after the war, stability, and yet she’d taken what was rightfully his and scurried clear to the wilds of Montana. He knew what she was about. She meant to disappear with the remaining Blye fortune, and keep it all for herself.
He clenched his fists.
He’d spent months tracking her down. She’d slipped from his grasp in Maryland but he’d quickly learned that she’d traveled by riverboat to Fort Benton under the guise of working as a nurse. A positively laughable notion. He’d left her a note today, alerting her to his presence, and to give her time to consider the options. At the moment she didn’t appear to be considering anything serious.
Norman wanted to confront her now, force her to see reason, but she was in the company of a very large man. The local doctor he’d gathered. By all appearances the two of them had taken a leisurely stroll to pick wild flowers.
Norman gritted his teeth.
If the doctor believed he could woo Zoe, and make off with the Blye fortune he’d be sorely mistaken. If the two of them meant to steal his money, he’d murder them both.
Five
Still rattled by the encounter with the snake, Zoe lay in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling. Between her spinning mind and Mrs. Carter’s loud snoring it seemed she was destined to pass a sleepless night. She sighed and rolled onto her left side, facing the wall. Perhaps she should try reading. There must be a monotonous book about anatomy downstairs.
On impulse, she tossed aside the heavy quilt and lit the candle beside her bed. Her bare feet touched the chilly wooden floor and she grabbed a woolen shawl from the wall hook, wrapping it around her shoulders as she stole from the room with the candle. She padded silently down the hall, past Mrs. Carter’s impressive snoring, toward the wooden staircase.
“No! Joey! Joey, wake up!”
She startled and stopped outside of Clark’s door.
“Please, wake up!”
The agonizing cries wrenched her heart. He must be dreaming, his sleep haunted by past horrors. Zoe knew what those dreams were like. She’d suffered them for a solid year after her home burned. Sometimes those nightmares still invaded her sleep. She rested a palm against the smooth wooden door. After a moment she gently knocked.
“Charge, men! Charge!”
She opened the door, and her heart twisted with the sight of him thrashing in the bed. Even in the shadows, his face writhed with agony. She quickly crossed to the bed and set the candle on his bed stand. “Clark,” she said his name softly at first. When that did not wake him she laid a hand on his shirtless chest. A thin sheen of sweat slicked his chest. “Clark.” She shook him gently.
He grabbed her arm in an iron vice, and shot upward in the bed, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and wild.
“Clark! Clark, it’s Zoe. It’s all right, you’re at home. I’m here.”
He blinked, staring at her for a long moment.
“It’s only a dream.” She laid a soothing hand on his arm.
The candle flickered and cast golden light across his face. Slowly recognition seeped into his eyes and his breathing slowed. “Zoe.” He released his grip on her arm, and raked both hands through his hair.
“You we
re calling out in your sleep,” she explained. She perched on the edge of the mattress and took his hand. He squeezed her fingers, holding to her as an anchor… a lifeline. Shivers of awareness ran up her arm.
His dark eyes fixed on hers, completely vulnerable, and, despite her every reason to hate this man, her heart melted. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice raspy from sleep. “Did I wake you?”
She shook her head. “No, after the snake situation this afternoon I couldn’t sleep. I was headed downstairs to find a book when I heard.”
He cringed.
“How often do you have those dreams?” she asked.
His head sagged on his broad shoulders. “The nightmares come and go. They’ve been bad again the last few nights.”
“About the war?”
He held her hand and nodded. “I try to forget. Every day I force myself not to think of it. To be productive. To help people.”
“But at night the memories haunt you.”
“It sounds as if you know about this.”
“I used to have nightmares about the war. Suffocating nightmares that made me feel like I was still there.”
“How did you get past it?”
Zoe hesitated, considering how best to answer. Finally, she shrugged. “Time I suppose. For a while I tried to stuff my feelings down. I didn’t want to feel the fear or the anger, but it always came back. Once I allowed myself to be angry and grieve, I was able to talk about it, and then the dreams eased.” She squeezed his hand. “Would you like to tell me about it?”
He lifted a hand and brushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers breezed over her cheek, causing her flesh to tingle with awareness. “We were on different sides of things. I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”
“During the war we were on opposing sides, but the war is over, and now you and I are a team.”
The candlelight danced in the darkness, casting shadows over his face, making his expression unreadable. “Do you really believe that?” he asked gruffly. “Of all people you know what I am, you’ve seen the beast.”
She scooted closer, grasping one of his hands between both of hers. “You are not a beast, Clark.”
A Nurse for Clark Page 4
