That Certain Spark

by Cathy Marie Hake

  Her chin came up. “Are you calling me a horse, Karl? Do you think I drink out of those troughs?”

  He sidestepped the second question. “A while back, I paid you the compliment of calling you a Thoroughbred.”

  “You most certainly did not.” She arched a brow. Her eyes were sparkling too much for him to think she’d taken any offense. “You likened certain admirable traits to a Thoroughbred. There is a vast difference.” She bit her lip, but a smile broke through. “Logic dictates that you, on the other hand, have inadvertently made an admission that you’ve tasted the water from the horse troughs since you believe a comparison can be made.”

  Guilt hit as he saw her shiver. “You’re cold.”

  “I’ll get some coffee.” They spent some time sitting on her front veranda, sharing an entire pot of coffee. Bundled in her pelisse and beneath a lap robe, she seemed . . . different.

  “You’re acting nervous.”

  “Too much coffee tends to make my hands tremor a little. For that very reason, I rarely indulge in more than a single cup.” She set aside the mug. “It is, however, cold and late. If you’ll excuse me . . .”

  “Of course. I shouldn’t have kept you up or outside.”

  Rising, she gave him an amused look. “We’re friends. As long as we’re outside, there’s no reason we cannot appreciate a pleasant evening together. Good night, Karl.”

  “Good night.” He opened her door. Skyler sniffed, started growling, and pushed past her.

  “Skyler—”

  His dog didn’t listen to her. Then again, neither did he. Karl barreled on in. Skyler’s hackles stood straight up as he ran about the surgery. Low growls continued to curl in his throat.

  Once Karl was sure no one was there, he spied the lock she’d started to put on one of the glass-fronted cabinets that held her medicines. Fury billowed off him. She’d wasted time hiding this from him when he could have been tracking down who’d been there. “Why didn’t you tell me someone’s been here?”

  “That’s not what’s important.”

  His hands itched to grab her arms and yank her out of there. Maybe shake some sense into her along the way. “Nothing is more important than your safety.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  She was so scared, she wasn’t making any sense.

  “Other peoples’ safety is more important.” She drew in a breath. “Someone got into my medications and has tampered with them. In trying to discredit me, someone—or a group of people—is exercising horrendous judgment that could prove deadly.”

  Horrendous. It wasn’t just the word she chose, but the way her voice shook when she said it that struck Karl. Suddenly it hit him. “Sharing the joys like Rose’s birth the other day—that was good; but I am here for you in times of fear and sorrow, too. Come to me.” He reached over and took her hands, pulling her closer. “Come to me, good or bad, right or wrong, day or night. Promise me.”

  Slowly, she withdrew her hands. “No, Karl. I made—”

  “Don’t tell me about your oath. Your oath was not meant to put you in danger or isolate you so you couldn’t be effective. I’m putting those locks on. Now.” He knew he was pushing her, but it was for her own good. The woman he loved was in danger, and she hadn’t come to him. It tore at him. If she wouldn’t come to him, he would at least make sure she’d get help elsewhere.

  “ ‘Bear ye one another’s burdens.’ You think you’re supposed to help everybody else handle their burdens, but you hide your problems and carry everything on your own shoulders. That verse isn’t just about you doing it for others, Taylor MacLay Bestman. That verse is just as much about you letting others share your load. It’s time you stopped trying to handle all of this by yourself. As soon as the locks are on, I’m going to haul you over to Enoch’s and we’re going to tell him just how far things have gone.” Angry, he grabbed the screwdriver.

  A moment later, he heard the front door click shut.

  Karl put the locks on her cabinets, but he’d taken the shutters off her eyes. Shaken and humbled, Taylor walked over to the boardinghouse and asked Enoch and Mercy to come over. Mr. Michaelson promised to listen for Heidi in case she woke up before her parents returned. She then went to get Daniel and Millie Clark, who came at once, their butler and cook happy to mind the little ones. Last, she went to Piet.

  When Taylor walked back in, Karl was standing off to the side. She went and tapped him on the shoulder. “Remember what I told you? When I’m wrong, I do a spectacular job of it.” In the next hour, she proved her case.

  No one had known everything that had been happening. After completely unburdening her heart and revealing everything, exhaustion pulled at her.

  “Mercy, my sister needs to feel safe to sleep. I’m going to spend the night here.”

  “I’m staying.” Karl didn’t ask. He stated the fact.

  Enoch gave Piet the keys to the barn so he could let Ozzie and Lloyd in to muck in the morning, and Daniel escorted Mercy and Millie home.

  The next morning, when Taylor emerged from her bedchamber, Enoch met her in the hall. “If you’re serious about wanting a puppy, Sis, you ought to come see what I have in the barn.”

  “That’s the nicest way I’ve ever started a day!”

  Karl opened the door to the patients’ room and leaned against the doorframe. “Seeing you first thing is the nicest way I’ve ever started a day. Looking at puppies with you will be a nice second thing.” Suddenly, in comparison to the compliment given in Karl’s deep, husky morning rumble, Taylor wasn’t so sure the offer of the puppy was the best start after all.

  They’d just started walking down the boardwalk when the desperate shouts of men cut through the morning air, barely to be heard through the most tortured, panicked horses’ sounds she’d ever heard. A rifle shot boomed through the air. “Doc Enoch! Hurry!”

  “Watch her!” he shouted to Karl and took off at a dead run.

  Karl grabbed her, wheeled to the side to shield her as much as possible from the street, and held her impossibly close. His huge body protected her from the maelstrom that passed by.

  As soon as it went by, she stared up into his fathomless blue eyes. “You can watch me run to help,” she told him, “or you can run with me.”

  He put her down and grasped her hand. In that moment, suddenly, her heart fell into place. Karl trusted her. He respected her. When it came to a matter of physical danger, he had shielded her; but now he was her partner.

  They cut across the field. By the time they reached the barn, Piet had the door wide open. A buckboard jounced up with Mr. Toomel driving, and Todd Valmer sat in the back with not one but both foals. Their dam had apparently followed them all the way to town without so much as a halter on. She neighed in distress. Todd rasped only one word that said it all: “Wolves.”

  Hearing the ruckus, Dan and Clicky showed up. Clicky, Ozzie, and Lloyd hurriedly lit every lamp they could find while Piet and Dan slammed the barn door while keeping the dam outside. Toomel, Valmer, Enoch, and Karl gently removed the injured foals from the wagon. Piet came back in for a lasso. “I’ll take their mama over to the livery.”

  “Don’t,” Enoch said. “She’ll be anxious here, but if you take her away she’ll panic and be liable to hurt herself and anything or anyone in her way.” While he spoke, Enoch knelt on the ground and began to assess the foals.

  Taylor opened the cases and pulled out the drawers with the most essential instruments. She handed three to Karl and took two for herself, and knelt just off to the side. Instead of getting into the thick of things, she started threading suturing needles and poking them into her bodice. “What do you have?”

  “Month old. Fast runners.” Enoch started out with age. When his patients’ family or owners were around, it was always smart to begin with a couple of positive statements. Calling them fast runners when they’d both been downed warned her that what came next would be grave. “Both have flesh at their necks torn. One has flank damage. The other’s hindq
uarter is laid bare.”

  Enoch finally looked up. “I can’t make any promises, Valmer. They’re both in a bad way. Saving even one will be a miracle. With that flank wound, the guts could be infected and any effort to save it would be for naught. Even with the best of repair work, that kind of hindquarter damage could render a horse a cripple.”

  “I’ll take the one on the right,” Taylor said, solving the dilemma.

  Word got out, and farmers came to lend support to Valmer as he waited during the surgeries. A man ought not have to face such disaster alone. The dam made her presence known, racing around outside the barn and trumpeting her fear. Her babies, having been given occasional whiffs of chloroform, didn’t answer—which made their mother all the more desperate. Valmer sat between the foals, able to touch each one’s muzzle. He’d spoken to them a little, but as badly hurt as they were, that didn’t make much difference. He looked up, saw his friends, and nodded.

  Taylor lost track of time when she did surgery. In terse phrases, she and Enoch exchanged information as they each tried to save the foals. On both, the jugular had been laid bare, yet not punctured. Taking that as a heartening sign from heaven, they worked with feverish determination. When she’d finished entirely, she went and knelt beside her twin, assisting with the remainder of the repairs.

  “I’ll get these last few sutures,” Enoch told her. “Go ahead and stand up.” He didn’t say more, but she was grateful. A well-made corset worn at a sensible tightness ought not be uncomfortable. One of her secret indulgences was in buying the very best. Even so, the garment wasn’t designed to permit a woman to fold over double.

  Hovering and assisting as he had, Karl scarcely waited for her to sit back on her heels. Helping her up, he murmured, “Millie’s cook just put hot water and soap in Enoch’s sleeping room. She brought you a change of clothing, too.”

  The men noisily started the task of moving the foals to stalls and making sure they wouldn’t damage their incisions while Taylor made her way to the boardinghouse.

  The warm water felt heavenly. Taylor relished the few moments washing up and moving to ease the aches her odd positions had caused. Using Enoch’s comb, she stood by the mirror and disciplined her hair, twisting the sides first and gathering it all in the back for a sensible chignon. The black wool skirt fit well, but she paused for a moment when she saw the shirtwaist. Before medical school, she’d often worn that exact shade of deep green because it brought out her eyes. Would Karl notice?

  I want him to. Taylor buttoned up the shirt, fluffed the sleeves, and emerged back into the main part of the barn.

  Karl’s eyes flared and smoldered. Then a teasing smile tugged at the side of his mouth. “You were both wrong and right, Taylor.”

  “I think you search for reasons to tell me the first part of your sentence.”

  He stalked toward her. “That day you came to have me take you on your first house calls, you asked, ‘What difference does the outside make? Man looketh on the outward appearance, but God looketh on the heart.’ The second part is from the Bible, so of course it was right. But the first part?” He gently tested the silk sleeve between his fingers. “The outside does make a difference. It is not just what flows in veins that deserves your concentration, but what beats in the heart and radiates from the soul.” He took hold of her hand. “The color has come back to your life.”

  “A very colorful man brought it back.”

  “That does it, gentlemen.” Enoch’s voice held relief.

  Taylor wished she and Karl had left and had this discussion elsewhere so it wouldn’t have been interrupted.

  Valmer walked up and stuck out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Enoch shook his hand. “They’re not out of the woods by a long shot. We did our best for them, but it’s still chancy.”

  “I didn’t think even one’d be alive by the time the school bell rang,” Toomel stated. “You and your sis did fine work.”

  “It’s because of my sister that we got so much done.”

  “That’s right.” Mayor Cutter swaggered over from a knot of men. “Everyone wants to give credit where it’s due. And it’s the perfect solution to our little difficulty. Dr. Bestman can become your assistant—or partner,” he quickly corrected himself when he saw Enoch’s thunderous expression.

  “No,” Enoch and Taylor said in unison.

  “The town will still appreciate Dr. Bestman’s contract has been kept in spirit, and she could continue to treat some of the women and children if they want her to.”

  “She saved my life.” Karl stared at the mayor. “I’m not a woman or a child.”

  “At least not most of the time,” Piet said. A few people laughed. He walked out and jabbed his finger in the air. “You, Toomel. Just fine your shoulder works, ja?”

  “Yep, and I’m neither a woman nor a child,” Toomel agreed emphatically.

  “Don’t forget Tim Creighton,” Karl said, standing behind Taylor and slightly to the side, cupping her shoulders. “On the very day his daughter was born, Dr. Bestman didn’t just deliver the baby, she staunched the bleeding and stitched his head from that fall.”

  As he spoke, Karl scanned the barn and realized most of the men who liked and supported his beloved weren’t present. Oh, she’d won over plenty, but in the middle of a working day, once they were convinced things were going well, many had gone back to work. White was there. Smith, too. The mayor and a few of his cronies—coincidentally, men who shared his low opinion of Taylor. I was a fool. I should have been on guard for her.

  “Now that we’ve established that Dr. Bestman’s practice is inclusive of all human beings, I’m ordering you all out of my barn.”

  “It ain’t your barn,” White drawled.

  “Shut up, White,” the mayor growled. “The town deeded him the land, and he paid for the lumber. It’s his free and clear. But we’re not leaving.”

  The men all sat on hay bales at once, proving Karl’s suspicion. Like vultures, they’d gathered and swooped in to take advantage of this misfortune. Enoch obviously sensed it, too. Immediately he headed for his sister.

  The mayor continued, “The complaint comes up that ladies are present whenever we talk frankly. It’s just us here now.”

  “There. Is. A. Lady. Present,” Karl bit out.

  “She’s always parading around in her red shirtwaists and dress,” the mayor sneered. “Everyone knows exactly what that means.”

  “What it means is that I’m practical.” Taylor’s steady voice didn’t show a hint of concern. “Blood doesn’t show on my clothing.”

  Piet loomed over the mayor. “Which will come in handy when she treats your broken nose.”

  “No. No violence.” Clasping her hands at her waist, she looked around at the men. “If we must have a difference of opinions, then please—let’s be civil.”

  “You can all talk about how she fixed up a few folks. She didn’t fix up Lila.” Lloyd Smith’s accusation cut through the undertow of conversation.

  “You cannot fault her, boy,” Piet said gently. He left the mayor and approached Lloyd. “Your father . . . I was there. With my own ears I heard him tell the doctor she could not return to your home.”

  “I’m not a boy. I’m a man. Dad didn’t let her treat Lila because he couldn’t put his trust in a hussy.”

  Karl shook his head vehemently. “Your father’s judgment was wrong. Still, you can’t blame Taylor.”

  “Taylor,” Mr. Smith said in a mocking, bitter tone. “If that’s not proof of how familiar she is with men, I don’t know what is.”

  “The girl has no modesty. No shame.” The mayor leaned forward and leered. “How many naked men have you seen?”

  Karl bellowed, “Enough!”

  Enoch had been moving toward his sister’s side. He jerked toward the men and snarled at the same time.

  Ignoring them entirely, Taylor looked directly at Smith and Cutter. “Counting the corpse I had to work on in dissection class, there’s been one, Mr.
Cutter. All other men have been either fully dressed or have been draped by an assistant, and that assistant remained present in the room at all times.”

  Reaching the mayor, Enoch stood close and said something.

  Cutter shot him a vicious grin. “Confidentiality.” He was so self-assured that he didn’t bother to drop his volume much, and he’d said it with the same obnoxious way he had the night he’d destroyed the ugly swan sconce his wife treasured.

  Enoch said something more, and the mayor’s grin melted and he went pale.

  Unaware of the quick exchange that had occurred while she’d paused to allow the men to absorb the arrangements she’d used for decency, Taylor continued, “Mayor Cutter, in interviewing a male physician, would you ask how many naked women he’d seen?”

  “Or any man for any important public position, for that matter?” Enoch inserted.

  Thrusting back his shoulders, Cutter blustered, “Of course not. That’s . . . that’s different.”

  “I’d hope not!” Taylor gave him a shocked look. “You’ve been entrusting your wives and daughters and mothers to male physicians, allowing them to render the most intimate of care. Ascertaining that those men haven’t conducted themselves in an untoward manner or shown a licentious nature would have been wise.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lloyd stood. “Doc Wicky wasn’t like that. You can’t deny it.” Shaking his finger at Taylor, he half shouted, “You in those red shirts. You know what they mean, and they’re all you wear. It’s your fault no one trusts you.”

  Taylor inhaled sharply. Karl braced her and murmured, “Ignore him. He’s being a dumb kid.”

  She looked up at him with suspiciously moist eyes. “I’m afraid,” she said softly. “I’m afraid it’s far more than that.”

  “Sit down, kid.” Toomel sounded bored, but he looked livid.

  Taylor said, “Lloyd, I’d like to have a private word with you, please.”

  “You ain’t corrupting my son, woman!”

  “Mr. Smith, I’d welcome you to be part of the conversation.”

  “Nope.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Anything you gotta say, you say in front of everybody.”