The Doctor's Newfound Family

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The Doctor's Newfound Family Page 7

by Valerie Hansen


  Gathering her courage, she straightened and looked him in the eye, refusing to be cowed. “All I ask is that you give my idea some thought. According to the text I read this morning, there are many women who suffer needlessly because of their modesty. That is perfectly understandable, and if I can somehow assist them, I feel it is my duty to do so.”

  Taylor finally broke into a grin. “Bravo, Miss Reese. I applaud your ambition. But let’s start with some simple nursing duties before you try to take over my job. All right?”

  She didn’t appreciate his laughing at her lofty goals, but she could nevertheless appreciate his opinion. Of course it would be a long time before she was ready to be a real doctor. In the meantime there was plenty to do and even more to learn by observing Dr. Hayward. As long as she applied herself and kept an open mind, she might eventually succeed beyond his or anyone else’s wildest imagination.

  Was that a foolish aspiration? She didn’t think so. Not only did it give her a tangible goal for the future, it helped take her mind off seeking retribution.

  She wasn’t about to forget what had happened to her family. She simply needed something good to look forward to. Something that would perhaps give her life purpose and redirect her thoughts away from vengeance.

  Surely, God was going to even the score, as the Good Book promised. The only question Sara Beth had in that regard was whether or not the Lord was leading her to assist. She was not the kind of person to sit back and let her world spin out of control if she could help it. The first chance she got, she would once again write to Mr. King, as she’d already planned.

  What would she say? That answer came easily. She would tell him about William Bein’s attempts to send her whole family away. Let the powers that be make of that what they would. She knew it was nothing but a shameful attempt to steal what rightfully belonged to her and her siblings. If Uncle Will thought he was going to get away with cheating them out of their inheritance, then he had another think coming.

  She shivered, remembering the cold look in Bein’s eyes. If she never had to actually meet that man face-to-face again, she would count it a blessing.

  A doctor? Taylor was still smiling to himself as he returned to his hotel for the night. Sara Beth was amazing in both her courage and her ambition. He supposed there were female doctors somewhere, although he had never personally met one. The notion was just so farfetched it amused him. He could envision the reactions of some of his stuffy professors if a young, pretty woman like Sara Beth Reese walked into the operating theater and wanted to observe, let alone begin to practice the healing arts on her own.

  Entering the imposing What Cheer House, Taylor headed for the formal dining room. This was one of the most prestigious establishments in the city and also provided real baths in the basement, something most other hotels had not yet added to their amenities. Taking rooms there was his one extravagance and one he sincerely hoped he’d be able to afford to continue. It wasn’t on par with eastern hotels, but it was one of the best available in San Francisco.

  Gas-lighted chandeliers illuminated the separate dining area off the lobby. Crisp linen cloths draped the small tables, which were graced by only the finest china, silver and crystal goblets. Although no strong spirits were served, the hotel was nevertheless always crowded.

  Waiting for a table, Taylor spotted W. T. Coleman, waved to him and was motioned over. He gladly obliged.

  “Evening, W.T.”

  The wiry man offered a chair. “Join me?”

  “Delighted. How goes it?”

  “The raw oysters on the half-shell are delicious. I highly recommend them.”

  Taylor huffed and lowered his voice. “I had something other than food in mind when I asked. Any word on the problem you and I were discussing?”

  Coleman shook his head, glancing from side to side as if expecting to be accosted any second. “No. And I don’t want to discuss it in here. The walls have ears.”

  Waiting until a black-suited waiter had taken his order and departed, Taylor continued his query, albeit quietly. “Have you seen the latest issue of the Bulletin?”

  “Yes. Do you think that’s wise?”

  “What? Printing the truth?” He unfolded his napkin and laid it across his lap.

  “No. Letting King quote that girl. Do you have any idea how dangerous that may be for her?”

  “I didn’t notice any direct quotes,” Taylor said, frowning. “Did he actually mention her by name?”

  “Not in the article. Since I figured out where most of the information came from, others will, too. Where is she staying now that she has no home?”

  “At the Ladies’ Protection and Relief Society headquarters. She’ll be safe there.”

  “Only if she keeps her head down and her mouth shut. A few more letters like the last one King printed and anything may happen.”

  Taken aback, Taylor leaned closer and grabbed his companion’s wrist. “What do you mean, printed? He was supposed to build a feature on her letter, not run it.”

  Coleman nodded, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Well, it’s there. On page three. If all you read was the article, you missed the most important part of the paper.”

  “I’ll stop and cancel my dinner order on my way out,” Taylor said, standing and throwing his crumpled napkin across his place setting. Sara Beth fully intended to write again, this time making specific references to William Bein. Printing that letter would not only open her to a libel suit; it might endanger her just as W.T. had suggested, especially if she grew impatient and entrusted it to someone else to deliver instead of waiting until she saw him again.

  “Where are you bound?”

  “To head off a catastrophe, I hope.”

  “Good luck,” his friend said.

  “I’ll need more than that,” the doctor answered in passing. “I’ll need divine intervention.” He smiled over his shoulder. “Feel free to pray for us.”

  “Gladly,” Coleman said. “Seems like I’ve done little else of late.”

  Taylor had also been praying almost constantly for the past week. Even when he didn’t consciously realize he was doing it, he was often reminded that his thoughts had brought Sara Beth and her brothers before God.

  The way he saw it, he had been put into their lives to guide them through these dark valleys. Yes, he knew it wasn’t all up to him, yet he also believed that his wits and his friends would be of use in the long run.

  Right now, however, his task was to stop her from having another letter published. If she insisted on writing it, as he assumed she would, he must convince her—and James King—to make the missive anonymous. Otherwise, she would place herself in even worse danger. If that were possible.

  Chapter Seven

  Sara Beth’s immediate concerns were temporarily set aside when she learned that Lucas had been causing trouble. Separating him from the other boys, she led him into the garden after supper.

  The breeze off the Pacific was balmy and helped clear the air of the disagreeable odors drifting up the hill from the wharfs. Gulls soared overhead and squawked at each other like argumentative children.

  Speaking of which, her brother was acting as if she were imposing upon him by asking him to accompany her outside for a private talk.

  “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my mama,” the boy grumbled, scuffing his feet on the grass that a few grazing sheep kept manicured.

  His attitude cut her to the quick. “Of course I’m not Mother. No one will ever take her place. But we’re family. We have to stick together, especially right now.”

  “Why? You don’t care about us. You put Josiah in the nursery so you can go off with that doctor.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve been working in the kitchen, too. I have to contribute to our keep. You know that.”

  “Fine. You can do what you want. I’m not staying here.”

  She frowned and grabbed his shoulders to force him to look at her instead of staring down at his toes. “Of course you
are. We all are. Listen to me, Luke. This place is only temporary. As soon as I can get our house back we’ll all go live there, just like we used to. I promise.”

  “Oh, sure. How are you going to do that?” His face started to show more than anger, as if he were struggling to keep from breaking down and weeping.

  Sara Beth tried to embrace him and was rebuffed. Tearing free from her grasp, the eleven-year-old ran across the lawn and disappeared behind a hedge.

  Rather than pursue him, she merely stood there, astounded and more than a little hurt. Lucas wasn’t the only confused one in her family, was he? She was plenty upset herself, and poor Mathias had been moping around ever since he’d learned he was still expected to attend school. Only Josiah seemed to be content and that was because he didn’t understand their dire straits.

  Perhaps she should have made more effort to include her older brothers in her activities, she reasoned. If Luke felt needed, then maybe he’d be less likely to balk at every order he was given. There had to be some way to reach him and give him a task that made him feel important.

  Of course! Encouraged, she called to him. “Lucas? Would you run an errand for me? I need someone trustworthy to carry a letter downtown.”

  His tousled head poked out from behind the bush. “Me? I get to go? Alone?”

  “Yes,” Sara Beth said, trying to sound nonchalant when her stomach was churning and her heart racing. It was only slightly risky for the boy to be out and about this late in the day. If she intended to make him feel useful and a part of their quest, she had to let him participate, even if it did cause her slight concern.

  Luke was slowly returning, hesitant but clearly intrigued. “What do I have to do?”

  “Carry a letter to the newspaper building on the west side of Montgomery Street. Do you know where that is?”

  He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Good. When you get there, I want you to deliver my letter to Mr. James King, the editor. Give it to no one else. Understand?” Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved a folded piece of paper and offered it to the boy.

  When he reached for it, she kept hold till she’d finished speaking. “This is a very important job, Lucas. For Mama and Papa. You have to follow my instructions precisely and get back here before dark.”

  “Okay.” Grinning, he snatched the letter from her grasp and danced away, gamboling backward on the grass. “Can I have a penny for candy?”

  “I don’t have any money. I’m sorry. But someday I’ll reward you, I promise.”

  Watching the boy dash off, clearly elated to have a job to do, she hoped she’d made the right choice. If Luke’s new attitude was any indication, all would be well.

  In her heart, however, she continued to harbor reservations. That boy had always been the quieter brother, but he had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Mathias would have simply joked about running away while Luke truly meant any threat he issued.

  Sighing, she let herself drink in the beauty of the placid grounds, the blooming spring flowers, the distant calls of birds and the hum from the city that lay below the mansion on the hill. Under almost any other circumstances she would have been delighted to tarry in such a lovely place.

  Now, however, try as she might, she could not seem to find respite from the cares that threatened to burden her beyond bearing. At times of introspection like this, she was always reminded of all she had lost and of how difficult it was going to be to triumph over the current adversity.

  “Father,” she whispered into the evening air, “what must I do? How can I possibly win?”

  The only answer she received was a fleeting sense of peace. That was shattered almost immediately when a familiar buggy raced into the circular driveway and stopped in front of the orphanage.

  Taylor Hayward disembarked. There was a frown on his face and his jaw was clenched. Sara Beth’s first thought was that Luke had been injured and the doctor was bringing her the bad news.

  She hurried to join him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I hope,” Taylor said, taking her hands. “I came to fetch your letter for the newspaper.”

  “Oh, that.” Relieved, she smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve already sent it.”

  “You what?”

  His outburst took her aback and she pulled away, confused and alarmed. “I—I gave it to my brother Luke a few minutes ago. He needed to feel useful and I thought—”

  “Get in,” Taylor ordered. “We have to overtake him before he gets you into worse trouble than you already are.”

  “I don’t understand.” She let him assist her into the buggy and watched as he climbed into the driver’s seat and grabbed the reins.

  “King printed your letter.”

  “Of course. We knew that.”

  “No. I don’t mean he used the facts you gave him. I mean he printed the whole thing, verbatim. I hadn’t noticed it on a back page but it was there, all right, complete with your name at the bottom.”

  “So? I’m not ashamed of what I said. It was all true.”

  “Who else was privy to the conversation you heard your parents having?” He glared at her. “Never mind. I know you were the only one. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should never have left your letter with King without stipulating that he keep your identity a secret.”

  “That’s not sensible,” Sara Beth argued. She had to hang on to the end armrest of the padded bench to keep from bouncing around and sliding into him on the corners. “My testimonial was needed to give the story credence.”

  “Not when you’re the only witness who can accuse Bein,” Taylor argued. “If something were to happen to you, he’d have no one else to fear.”

  That notion made her shiver. The doctor was right. As long as she continued to insist on justice and had the newspaper on her side, there was a chance that Bein would decide she was a danger to their plans, whatever they might be. If he and his men were as dishonest as she thought, they could easily decide to resort to more murders.

  And right now her defenseless brother was walking the streets of the city, alone and bound for the very place that lay at the seat of the exposé. If anything bad happened to Luke because of her foolish choices, she’d never forgive herself.

  Glancing at the stalwart man driving the buggy, she included him in her silent prayers for deliverance. Her heart was filled with gratitude and more. This virtual stranger had come into her life and, in the space of mere days, had become such an integral part of everything it was a wonderment.

  Sara Beth knew that the doctor was merely a kind man who would have helped anyone in need. That wasn’t the problem. As she saw it, her biggest obstacle was going to be remaining aloof in his presence when what she really wanted to do was throw her arms around him and thank him for his assistance from the bottom of her heart.

  She would never be so bold, of course, but she couldn’t help wondering if envisioning such an embrace was not as big a sin as actually acting on that desire. She certainly hoped not, because thoughts of being held in his arms refused to go away, no matter how hard she tried to stop entertaining them—especially when he was seated so close.

  Taylor thought he spotted Luke trotting along the boardwalk that flanked Montgomery Street. He pointed. “There. Isn’t that him?”

  “Yes. Hurry!”

  A slow-moving freight wagon was in their way. By the time it had passed and the doctor had maneuvered his buggy to the side of the road, the boy had disappeared.

  “Where is he?” Sara Beth grabbed Taylor’s forearm.

  “I don’t know. He can’t have gotten as far as the Bulletin office this quickly.”

  Taylor jumped down, tied his horse to a hitching ring and circled the buggy to assist his passenger.

  “Maybe he ducked into the mercantile,” Sara Beth suggested as he lifted her down. “He said he wanted to buy penny candy. I didn’t have any money to give him but he might have found some in the street.”

  Taylor arched his b
rows, trying to recall exactly who and what had been near the boy in the last moments before he’d vanished. The street had been crowded, as usual, with strolling couples, businessmen heading home and the usual loitering ruffians and lowlifes. Any of those people might have interfered with the boy’s progress, although he figured that one of the latter was the most likely. It was even remotely possible that Luke had been shanghaied, although his small size was in his favor. Until he grew taller he wouldn’t be useful on shipboard as anything but a cabin boy.

  “You go that way and I’ll go this,” Sara Beth said.

  Taylor grabbed her wrist and held tight. “No. We stay together. I don’t want to lose you, too.” The moment he spoke he knew that such a masterful attitude would not sit well with her. It didn’t.

  She dug in her heels and resisted, leaning the opposite direction. “Luke is my brother. It’s my fault he’s here. I’m going to find him.”

  “There’s no time to argue. You’re coming with me.”

  “I’ll scream.”

  “Go ahead. The longer you stand there arguing, the farther away the boy will be.” Taylor knew the moment she was ready to capitulate because her eyes grew misty and her shoulders slumped.

  Without further discussion, he began to lead her toward the closest mercantile at a hurried pace. His heart was racing and his throat was dry. Their first task had to be locating the boy and making sure he was safe. After that, they’d go to the newspaper office and make certain that no more of Sara Beth’s actual letters were printed.

  She kept calling Luke’s name to no avail. They checked the nearby stores, then proceeded along the street, peering into every doorway and down every alley.

  By this time, Taylor had released her wrist and she had placed her slim hand in his, apparently unmindful of how their association might look to bystanders. He was glad, because it not only showed growing trust on her part, it pleased him greatly.

  He hoped and prayed he would prove worthy of her confidence. If they didn’t locate the missing boy soon, he would have to solicit outside help. Alerting Sheriff Scannell was out of the question, which left only the Vigilance Committee as his other option. He wasn’t looking forward to asking W.T. for another favor, but in this case, he’d do whatever it took to succeed.

 

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