She put her hand on her waist. “Are you calling me a horse?”
“Well, now, do you really want me to answer that? Because I’m probably just going to be calling you a certain half of a horse if you really want me to tell you the truth.”
Taylor looked at him and burst out laughing—partly out of humor, but also to hide her embarrassment. “Of all of the crude and awful things a man could say! I don’t believe you actually said that to me.”
“You deserved it.” He yanked off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair in a single savage swipe. “Wait . . . no you didn’t. You’re impossible and maddening, but that was wrong of me.”
It was hard to tell who was more embarrassed at the moment. She tried to grab the reins again. He wouldn’t let her. “It’s my horse,” she reminded him.
“Can’t be.”
“And why not? I have a bill of sale.”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
“It’s the other tenth that matters.”
“Christians tithe the other tenth to God. You can’t claim that tenth.” Karl gave her a smug grin.
“God’s my father. He wouldn’t mind my borrowing His horse because I need to go out and pay a call.”
“Okay.” Karl got them turned around to both face the correct direction.
“You can give me the reins back.”
“No, I’m not going to do that.”
“Karl?”
“Ja?”
“Give me my reins.” When he didn’t, she reached up and grabbed his.
Releasing them, he gave her an amused grin. “What good is that going to do you?”
She stared pointedly at the reins he held. “I gave you credit for being smarter than this.”
He shrugged off that insult. “Where else are you going to try to get a horse?”
“I don’t need to find another place to get a horse. I have a horse. I’m sitting on her.”
“Fine little mare.”
“Dimples is huge, and you know it. She’ll take me wherever I want to go.”
“She wasn’t taking you where you wanted to go just a couple minutes ago.”
Irritating man. “We were doing fine until you whistled.”
Karl gave her a maddening look. “She’ll come whenever I call. Other women should learn to mind, as well.”
“Well, when you find another woman who’s willing to follow those dictates, go ahead and grab her up.”
He smiled—that irritating smile men have when they think they know something a woman doesn’t. “You still haven’t answered where you think you’re going to get a horse.”
She turned to him. “Karl, I don’t want to call you stubborn, even though you are. I don’t want to call you dense, though you’re acting that way. I don’t want to insult you, though I’m tempted. I’m trying very hard to keep my patience, though it’s in short supply. So let me put it succinctly: I bought this horse. I’m keeping this horse.”
“Where are you keeping your horse? I’m concerned. There’s not a man in Texas who’d abide by seeing such a fine specimen of horseflesh mistreated.”
“You Texans and your horses, and your rules about horses, and your guns, and your rules about guns.” She shifted in the saddle. “Are there any other things you have rules about?”
“Could be.”
“Am I going to have to sit all day before you deign to inform me, or are you going to stop making a production of it and just tell me?”
Karl rubbed his nose with the ball of his thumb. He appeared to be thinking hard to answer the question. “Well, ma’am, let’s see. We have rules that you treat your mama nice. Always greet folks. Those are all I’m going to tell you for today.”
“So you can make up some more tomorrow?”
Resting oh so easily in the saddle, he gave her a teasing look. “Are you going to tell me that people haven’t said howdy and they haven’t treated their mamas nice?”
“Well, yes, but . . .” Somehow he’d managed to turn the tables.
“So I’m not wrong.”
“Back to your making me crazy. Why don’t you just go away, Karl? I’m going to make my house calls.” She grabbed back her reins, and he released them to her. “Just go and leave me alone.”
“Can’t do that, darlin’.”
“Why not?”
“Orville had friends riding with him today.”
“Well, obviously he did. There were two before and two behind.”
“Only four that you saw. Anytime you’ve got men planning something like that, it’s a safe bet you’ve got at least twice as many if not more behind it all.”
“I don’t know that that’s possible. There aren’t that many more people in Gooding.”
Karl stopped his horse again. “There are many who stand with you.”
She looked at him, knowing he was speaking of the list. “Not enough.”
“There’s still time left.”
“Three days. I haven’t said anything, but after Lila died, two men struck their entire families’ names off my roster. Until then, my practice was growing steadily and it looked like God was opening doors for me here in Gooding.”
“He has.”
“I don’t know that, Karl. I came because I signed a contract to practice medicine. In the New Testament Paul writes about learning to be content wherever he is, and he wrote those very words from prison. And so, when I started out here and things were bad, I promised myself I’d learn to be content no matter what, and I’ve tried hard to do that.”
She could see the look in his eyes. She could see that he wanted to deny all of it, yet she could see the truth just as clearly that he couldn’t. “So, Karl, I’ve tried to be content, and most days I’m doing very well at it. My brother is happy, and I could never ask for something better than for Enoch to be content. He has a wonderful wife, and Heidi is a darling little girl. He’s established his family and his practice. Even with their difficulties, God is drawing them closer together.”
“You have me, Taylor.” Karl hammered his way right in. “I’m the man who loves you and is waiting for you.”
Taylor could feel her heart begin to accelerate and her cheeks flush at his words. “Yes, Karl, between our debates and all of those buggy picnics, we forged a unique friendship.”
“Friendship? Ja. But there is far more to this. You know it, too, my Taylor.”
She found she couldn’t look him in the eye. “Friendship is all that’s possible. And I treasure it. But I’m getting desperate to add ten more names to my the list or I’ll no longer be Gooding’s physician. In that case, I’ll have to accept that God wants me to go elsewhere. That’s why I’m married to my job. Because God can take me anywhere, at any time. I’m free to get up in the middle of supper or the middle of the night and go answer anyone’s summons. I can stay with a laboring woman or a dying man without concerns for my hungry family or a baby needing tending back home. The contempt people aim at me—prompting harsh words and cruel deeds—would grow into hatred if I were a married woman who rejected her family obligations. You see, that’s why I’m married to my job. I’m able to share Enoch’s family, and my patients’ needs are met.” There. She’d explained it. Now he would finally understand.
“But you, Taylor. What about you? What about your needs? When are they met?”
“I made my choice when I chose medicine. Medicine is my love. There isn’t room for anything more.”
They spoke no more as they traveled out to the Bunce farm, then over to Checkered Past before coming back to town. As they rode the last mile into town, Karl directed his horse so close to her that their clothes brushed. It made everything inside her tingle. “That’d be a real shame if what you said about not having room for anything more in your life were true, darling. But you know things can change. They have changed. I’ll give you time to figure it out.”
He helped her dismount out in front of her surgery. “I’ll board Dimples for you, but it’s silly for you to have bought
her. She was already at your disposal.”
“No, Karl. Once I make up my mind, I don’t change it.” Not about the horse, not about medicine, not about marriage. Taylor thanked him, unlocked the door, and went into the empty—and yes, lonely—place that was both office and home. Her steps echoed in the silent void. Pressing her hands to the top of her kitchen table, she allowed her head to hang low. Karl’s questions pounded at her like his hammer on his anvil. “What about you? What about your needs? When are they met?” Deep inside, a cold, awful ache spread, chilling her to the core and making her crave things she’d sacrificed because she’d been so sure medicine would be more than enough. For the first time, it fell short. Frighteningly, heart-wrenchingly short.
But I took my professional oath. I can’t have everything.
“One of your breakfasts is a wonderful way to start a day, Eunice. I was thinking last night about what would make me happy, and you came to mind.”
Widow O’Toole gave a start. “Me?”
“Yes. I need someone to help me out. You already do it—as you did the day Enoch and Mercy married and that night when you stayed over. Often, you’ve come taken my laundry off the line when I’ve been out on a call or brought over food. I’d like to make it official and hire you.”
Now if only I could ignore the feelings Karl stirs up. . . . Taylor opened her mail and found the usual “We don’t want no wimmin docter” notes. A rueful smile twisted her lips. It’s a pity some of Karl’s warm feelings can’t be siphoned off and administered to some of these other people.
Over the next few days, she wished she could fully depend on Karl’s protection and safety—but that wasn’t right. Bad enough, she had to mind her actions and reactions around Karl at every turn because he’d made his feelings clear and she couldn’t be anything more than his friend. But added to that, strange things kept happening, and she’d gone through an entire tin of chamomile tea trying to keep herself calm. Odd sounds in the night, manure on the porch, dirt and worms in drawers, mean grease pencil messages on the windows, missing food—those had been sporadic since her arrival. All were things that sounded like imaginings of an overwrought woman. But over the last few days, she’d sensed she was being watched much of the time. Small items got moved or were missing—and she was sure Eunice had nothing to do with it. And this morning, there was the note on the inside of her top dresser drawer. She shuddered and lifted the stove burner.
A thump announced Karl’s entry. “Goed morning. Mrs. Ochoa—she has need of you.”
Hastily tossing in the note, she slapped the burner back in place. “Let me get my bag.”
Karl’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?”
Too embarrassed to tell him, she turned away. “You know better than to ask questions, Karl.”
He tugged her back around. “I know you better than to be fooled. What was on that note?”
“I’m sure word’s gotten around that I need ten more names and there’s less than a week to go. If the men who don’t want me here can’t vote me out, one of them thought maybe he’d scare me out. Obviously he didn’t know how stubborn I am.”
Keeping hold of her wrist, Karl tugged her toward the stairs. “You’re packing a valise and staying at Mercy’s.”
“I’m going to the Ochoas’.”
“We’re not done talking about this.”
Good as his word, Karl harped on her the whole time they were making calls. Finally, when they returned to town after making a string of calls, he went into her place and assured himself all was safe. Since Eunice O’Toole came over, he left them alone. While Eunice went upstairs, Taylor headed for her surgery.
Once there, she heard a cabinet door creak. It wasn’t a loud sound, but just enough to let Taylor know she wasn’t imagining things. Everything within her cried that something was wrong. She never left cabinets or drawers open or even ajar. When Bethany and Mercy had been there as patients and she’d heard a sound, nothing odd or frightening had happened, and as the day progressed, she’d convinced herself she’d been the butt of a sick joke. Right now, the light creak of the cabinet door warned her the dangers she’d faced weren’t all in the past.
Though it was just afternoon, heavy clouds darkened everything, promising another storm. She lit a kerosene lamp and stepped inside.
The skeleton hung undisturbed, the microscope curled precisely where the sun would slant first thing in the morning. Those things registered in a mere instant. Most people didn’t know she kept the addictive medications such as opium, laudanum, and Brown’s mixture in a locked drawer. To feed their insatiable cravings, people who were desperate for the substances were known to sometimes break into doctors’ offices to obtain the drugs. Even though such medications weren’t available to whoever had been there, that didn’t mean they’d . . .
Oh, Lord, no. Please, Lord—no.
Twenty-Five
Mouth dry, Taylor knew for certain whoever had been in her surgery had also tampered with her pharmacopeia. Only this wasn’t the pillaging search of someone desperate for a medication his body craved. The glass-fronted cabinet doors rested shut—except for one that barely hung ajar. Order mattered—but so did precision. As she scanned her shelves, the evidence was undeniable. The royal blue Latin script indicating the contents of each white porcelain container always faced directly forward, and she always kept the jars two inches apart, set back from the edge.
Only now, not all of them were in the correct alignment.
It wasn’t Enoch. He knows my protocol. Mercy’s too short to be able to reach the jars on that top shelf. Widow O’Toole was gone before I left, and I locked the doors. One realization after another hit, each striking harder.
I’ve been naïve to think the men who want to discredit me and run me out of town wouldn’t try to tamper with my materials. They already did that stunt with the bugs and worms on my sterile instruments.
This was far worse, though. After the other stunt, she could notice the damage and correct it before treating anyone with the compromised instruments. This time, she couldn’t be sure precisely what had and hadn’t been moved. A deep breath filled her lungs, then whooshed out. Lord, grant me wisdom.
After lighting more lamps and carefully assessing everything, Taylor knew for certain seven jars had been moved. Or at least seven. Maybe more. Immediately, she took down all seven jars that were off-kilter on the shelves. Setting them apart from one another, she tried to determine what her foe had done.
It was worse than she could have imagined.
Whoever it was had taken it upon himself to dump the contents of a jar directly into another, stir it, and then return a portion back into the first jar. The slight difference between a granular and a powdery texture of the first pair tipped her off. For the second pair, the scent was wrong. Each medication had a specific aroma—whether sweet, acrid, oily—just like foods did. Immediately the mingling of scents gave an odd bouquet that qualified as suspicious—if not downright malicious.
Which left three last jars. Three. Meaning they’d put away another jar and she’d not detected which one. By opening up those three, she’d try to find out what the other jar was. Valeriana officinalis—valerian—and Tanacetum parthenium—feverfew—were the more important of the three. The third, Caccinium macrocarpon—cranberry—didn’t matter as much. Carefully prying off the tops of the first two, she peered inside. Then it hit her. He didn’t care that she knew. She’d been so taken in by the trappings of stealth that this was a slap in her face—he was showing her what a cat-and-mouse game he was playing. He’d toyed with her, letting her anguish over what had and hadn’t been adulterated, then he’d mixed three different colors together.
Anger surged. No one was going to harm her patients. She secured the lids, pushed the jars to the back of the counter, then marched to the oak hall tree. Eunice came down the stairs. “Was there anything you needed while I’m here?”
“Goodness, no. Thank you for doing the laundry.”
Glove
s, hat, and pelisse on, Taylor stepped outside, as did Eunice. A savage twist of her key, and the lock clicked shut.
Experience had taught her the value of pausing to take a deep breath instead of rushing headlong into something. Invariably, the seconds used to gather her thoughts saved several minutes of trying to redeem lost time due to a poor decision. I’m not going to give whoever it is the satisfaction of seeing me look rattled. Plastering a smile on her face, she stepped out into the rain and waited for Eunice to go home before going down the boardwalk.
Daniel Clark subscribed to three different newspapers so the mercantile patrons could read the paper and enjoy coffee while playing chess or checkers. Papers had just arrived, declaring the stock market was plummeting and the railway system’s financial underpinnings showed signs of grave instability. With everyone distracted, Taylor selected some cabinet locks and had Millie put them on her account.
As Taylor walked home, she looked out at the rainbow. Lord, I have plenty to thank you for. You’ve ironed things out for Enoch and Mercy, and Tim and Sydney have a healthy baby. I’m in need of your wisdom and help. I don’t want anyone to be hurt because someone is trying to discredit me, Father. Please, protect everyone.
“Botheration!”
Karl paused outside the doctor’s house and didn’t bother to muffle a chuckle. He tapped on the window, and Taylor yelped. “Open the door.”
Scowling, she met him at the front door. “Did you need something?”
“I thought perhaps you did. You’re making plenty of noise in there.” He glanced down and squinted in the dim light. “What happened to your hand?”
She shoved it behind her back. “It’s cold out there.”
He shrugged. “Since it’s too early yet to go to bed, I thought to go for a walk.”
“Where’s Skyler?”
“Drinking from a puddle. Still, he will not drink from the horse troughs.”
“Skyler’s an intelligent dog.”
Hoping for an invitation to come in, since he’d just scorched his own pot of coffee, he angled, “Your coffee—does it taste any better than the trough water?”
That Certain Spark Page 26
