by Jan Watson
Will watched the well-dressed stranger make his way through the crowd. “Mr. Brown?” The doctor set his black leather medical bag down and extended his hand. “I’m Simon Corbett. I hear there’s been an accident.”
Will shook the doctor’s hand. “This young’un’s been snake bit. He’s in a right precarious way. We’d appreciate any help you could give us.”
The doctor squatted beside Daniel and removed the fatty poultice from above the boy’s right ankle. The people in the yard drew closer to the porch. There wasn’t a sound to be heard, other than Aunt Ida’s chair scraping across the ground. A scalpel blade flashed as Dr. Corbett ripped the seam of Daniel’s overalls and did a cursory exam. Everyone could see the swollen limb as well as the red streaks spreading up the leg almost to the groin. He rummaged through his bag and retrieved his stethoscope, which he placed on Daniel’s chest.
He looked at Will. “Do you know what type of snake bit your boy? I have a treatment for a rattlesnake strike, but it’s potent. The side effects could make him very sick. I don’t want to give that to him if it’s not necessary. If, on the other hand, it was a cottonmouth moccasin, there is nothing we can do but keep him comfortable and pray for a miracle.” Dr. Corbett scanned the crowd. “Did anyone see what happened?”
“His brother was with him,” Will answered. “Willy, come over here and tell the doctor what you saw.”
“I wish I had seen the low-down varmint that bit Daniel,” Willy choked, his face screwed tight against his tears, “but the snakes had left when I got there.”
“Just tell us what happened the best that you can, young man,” the doctor prompted. “Tell us anything you can remember.”
“It’s like this.” Willy leaned against Copper for support.
“Daniel would of never been in this predicament if he’d of listened to me.” His words rushed out, a veritable torrent of speech. “We’d just turned over a big old rock up there under the cliff above the creek. There must of been a million fishin’ worms all wriggling around. Daniel asked me, ‘Don’t this remind you of the camp meeting, Willy? Remember those men and the snakes? I bet I could do that.’ ‘Daniel,’ I told him, ‘you must be tetched in the head. That’s even dumber than the time you thought you could walk on water an’ you nearly drowned afore I throwed you that branch, an’ you nearly drowned again ’cause it hit you in the head, an’ I had to jump in and fish you out. Now you think you can be a snake handler? Don’t you never learn, boy?’ Then Daniel says to me, ‘I want to be like that dancing preacher.’
“And here’s the worst thing—the really bad thing,” Willy told his hushed audience. “I said, ‘Go on then, Daniel. Go find you a snake an’ see what happens. I’ll just have to go fishin’ by myself while you’re off gettin’ snake bit.’ And so he did. I was busy puttin’ the worms in the coffee tin that Mam gave us when I heard him holler, ‘Come and look, Willy!’ But I didn’t go right away ’cause I had dropped the can, an’ worms were going every which way.”
Willy stopped to take a deep breath, then rattled on. “All of a sudden it seemed awful quiet, seemed like even the birds hushed singing, an’ I sneaked up the hill to where Daniel had gone, an’ I didn’t see no snakes, but I seen my brother layin’ there all still-like. Just layin’ there in the quiet. The air was real funny, just glowin’ and smellin’ real strong of cucumbers. An’ the next thing I remember is seeing Sissy on the porch.”
Finally Willy stopped and took a long breath, pausing as if he might have more to say. “That’s all there is, Doc.”
Copper grabbed Willy and exclaimed, “Cucumbers, Willy—cucumbers! Oh, how wonderful.” Copper kissed the squirming Willy on his dirty cheek. “That means copperheads, right, Daddy? A copperhead’s den smells like cucumbers.”
“That’s right,” Will said, his voice a rush of relief. “Only one I ever heard of dying from a copperhead bite was that little Hawkins baby. Daniel should be old enough to survive a copperhead’s bite, don’t you think, Doc?”
“I think his chances are good, but—”
A jerking started in Daniel’s legs and moved up his body. The spoon dropped from his mouth and clattered across the porch. His hands fisted and beat at the air.
The doctor listened with his stethoscope again. After what seemed an eternity, he took out one earpiece and asked, “Has he done this before?”
“Just the once,” Will replied, “but it was a golly whopper. He folded up like a closed book a few minutes before you come.”
The doctor’s brow furrowed as he nodded. “Let’s take your boy in the house and make him comfortable. Willy, you can bring my bag.”
Will scooped Daniel up. Willy grabbed the doctor’s bag, Copper hastened to open the screen door, and Grace passed out cold, hitting the porch floor with a sickening thud.
“Oh!” the forgotten audience exhaled.
“Mrs. Brown?” Dr. Corbett pulled out his pocket watch and reached for her wrist. His long fingers rested on her pulse. Next he snapped a tiny glass ampoule and waved it under her nose.
She coughed and sputtered, looking wildly about the porch. “Will?”
“Right here, darlin’,” he replied from the open door where he paused with Daniel.
Grace was shaky but got to her feet, her knees wobbling dangerously. Quickly Copper slipped her arm around her waist and helped her inside and to bed. Will stood by the bedroom door, Daniel still in his arms, as the doctor took his bag from Willy and Copper lit the coal-oil lamp.
Dr. Corbett withdrew a vial of clear tincture from his kit and administered a few drops to Grace. “Valerian,” he said to Will. “She’s had a swooning spell. It’s just the shock of everything. She’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.” The doctor took Daniel from Will’s arms. “You stay with your wife, and I’ll see to Daniel.”
Copper wet a rag and placed it on her mother’s pale face. “Rest, Mam. I’ll watch over Daniel tonight.”
Tears leaked from the corners of Grace’s eyes when she grasped Copper’s hand. “You’ll call me if . . .”
Copper knelt for a moment at the bed. “He’s going to be fine, Mam,” she said as Grace’s eyelids drooped. “He’s going to be fine.”
CHAPTER 22
Past midnight, the house was finally quiet as Copper put another pot of coffee on the stove. Brother Isaac had stayed way past bedtime, and some of the deacons from church had come to pray and anoint Daniel with oil. All the commotion had Copper so keyed up she doubted that she’d ever sleep again.
Daddy was asleep in a chair beside Mam’s bed with the bedroom door ajar. Willy slept on the floor, the yellow-clawed chicken feet clutched in his hand. He refused to leave Daniel, who was propped up on the settee with a bolster. “He’ll be scared if he wakes up and I’m not here,” he’d pleaded. So Copper had made Willy a pallet, and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
The doctor was spending the night. Every so often he took out a vial of sassafras oil and, very precisely, dropped exactly fifteen drops down Daniel’s throat. Copper watched him measure the medicine. He told her it was an effectual antidote against the venom of a copperhead.
He sat at the kitchen table, his head resting on his folded arms. He’d asked for coffee just a minute before, but now his faint snores were the only noise in the house.
Copper was in a quandary. The coffee was ready, but the doctor was asleep. Should she pour a cup and wake him? It wouldn’t be seemly to touch him while he was sleeping, but what if Daniel needed him? Maybe she should drop a pan—that’d make enough racket to stir him up, but then she’d wake everyone else also. She just stood there, holding an empty cup, feeling out of place in her own kitchen.
Seconds later Daniel coughed, and the doctor was instantly on his feet. He quickly took a brown suction bulb and sucked frothy sputum from Daniel’s mouth.
“Bring the light closer, please,” he instructed. He pulled up Daniel’s eyelids and peered intently, then hung Daniel’s left leg over his own arm and pecked at it with a little rubb
er hammer. Daniel’s leg swung out and nearly hit Copper on the chin, she’d bent over so close.
Daniel whimpered and struggled to sit up.
“Good, very good. He’s coming around,” the doctor said.
“Shush, Daniel.” Copper stroked his face. “You’re all right. Go back to sleep.”
“Where’s Willy?” Daniel mumbled. “I want to—”
“He’s right here on the floor, fast asleep.” She brushed the hair from his forehead. “Rest now.”
Dr. Simon Corbett sipped the strong black coffee and gazed at the scene before him of a devoted sister caring for two brothers in a self-assured way he would not have expected to find in the hills of eastern Kentucky. He looked around the room, for the first time noticing the full bookshelves. The young woman must be well-read, for she seemed intelligent and well-spoken. She was dressed a little rough—no shoes and a torn dress that obviously covered a fine figure—but she was graceful and kind. Remarkable, just remarkable. He slumped back in his chair and took off his glasses.
The young doctor was bone weary. He’d arrived in Troublesome only the day before from his home in Lexington, and he’d spent his time seeing to a relative in his care. Lottie Boone, an ancient, diminutive woman, was his late mother’s second cousin. She was still strong of body with the heart rate of a workingman, but her mind had gone south.
Foolishly he’d promised her years before, while she was still sound, that he would never make her leave her mountain home. And now, because of that promise and because he’d pledged to his own mother that he’d see to her cousin, he trekked to the mountains twice a year to make sure the local he’d hired as a nursemaid took good care of Lottie. And she did. The log house, such as it was, was always clean, and Lottie was well nourished. She could live for years.
Simon rubbed his face and reseated his spectacles. For as long as he lived, he’d never be able to figure out why these clannish people preferred to live so far away from civilized society and chose instead these remote hollows without decent schools and medical help.
Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the young woman who kept herself busy with her brother. Had Mr. Brown called her Copper? Yes, Copper. It must be that she was named for the color of her hair, he figured, as he watched her straighten the pillow under the boy’s head. Her hair was loose and hung past her shoulders; it glinted in the lamplight, streaks of gold in copper.
“Harrumph.” Clearing his throat, he put his coffee down and turned to busy himself with the small apothecary he kept in his black bag. After much clinking of bottles and snapping the kit sharply closed, he examined Daniel again.
The clock struck three. “Your brother will sleep through the rest of the night, Miss Brown. Why don’t you get some rest also? You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine, thank you, Dr. Corbett.” She eased her brother’s head up and laid it on her lap. “I’ll just sit here with Daniel.”
The doctor pulled out a second straight-backed chair. “Then I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit.” He’d barely sat down and propped his booted feet on the other chair when his shoulders slumped forward and he was asleep.
Intrigued, Copper watched the easy rise and fall of the doctor’s chest. His shirt was so white it gleamed in the lamplight, and he wore a navy tie that looked like silk. He’d loosened it during the course of the night and rolled up his sleeves, but he was still the most elegant man she had ever seen. He was small compared to her burly father, maybe half a foot taller than her own five-foot-three, but she’d taken note of his wide shoulders and the muscles that rippled under his shirt when he’d shifted Daniel onto the couch. He seemed neatly put together and moved with the economy of motion she’d seen in the mountain lion that prowled the ridge, each step measured and precise. Anybody would have to notice his clothes fit like they’d been made just for him—no shirttails hanging out, no ankles showing beneath his pant legs. Handsome, very handsome.
She slept on and off on the settee with Daniel’s head in her lap until her legs began to cramp. Finally she slid out from under him and propped his head on a pillow. She had to step over Willy, who’d rolled halfway across the kitchen floor, before she could dip herself a drink of water from the granite bucket on the washstand. She took a sip, noting that she’d need to draw some fresh water in the morning, and stared at the mirror. Even lamplight did nothing to hide the effects of the day. Daniel’s blood streaked her face, and her hair had slipped out of its combs and tangled wildly past her shoulders.
She stepped back and noticed that clabber stained her apron, and the sleeve of her yellow daisy-print dress was hanging by a thread. Worse still, her dirty bare feet peeked out from under her grimy dress hem. So this is why Mam is always after me to wear my shoes. One never knows when a handsome stranger will show up.
Grabbing a towel and a bar of soap off the washstand, clean clothes from her bureau drawer, and some shoes from under her bed, she opened the screen door, holding her breath as it screeched, and slipped out into the muggy summer morning.
“Oh!” She took a fright. There was a body on the dark porch. Creeping closer to investigate, she found John Pelfrey sleeping under the kitchen window. She let her breath out. It’s just John.
The dark path to the creek was lit by the full, bright moon and guided her way. She discarded her torn and dirty clothing and dived into the cool, dark water. After swimming across and back several times, she floated for a while in the refreshing pool, watching the moonlight play upon the water.
What a day. It was impossible to keep tears at bay when her mind replayed Daniel’s frightful accident. The shock still squeezed her heart, though he seemed ever so much better now. Something tugged at her mind, something out of place. Of course—John sleeping under the kitchen window. What was he doing there? She lathered the soap and scrubbed her scalp, wishing she had vinegar water to rinse her hair.
The soap smelled clean as she washed away the grime of the day, like the doctor had smelled when he bent over Daniel. Her mind wandered. What was that scent exactly? Freshly ironed linen! He smelled like Daddy’s Sunday shirt just after it was pressed. And had she detected a hint of lavender? Maybe his wife sprinkled his starched shirts with lavender water before she ironed them.
Wife? Copper guessed she’d better stop daydreaming and get on back to Daniel.
Rejuvenated from her bath, she towel dried her hair and ran her fingers through the tangles. Afterward, dressed and shod, she made her way back up the path to the cabin.
Dr. Corbett leaned on the porch rail with what seemed like his hundredth cup of coffee and watched as Copper walked toward him. It was all he could do to hold himself back from hurrying down the path to meet her.
He was more than a little surprised at his response to the sight of her. He was considered an eligible bachelor in Lexington and had squired his share of beautiful young ladies to dances and parties. Lately he had seen much of one such debutante: Hester Louderback, the daughter of his only sister’s closest friend. Any thought he might have entertained of considering a future with Hester fell away last night in Troublesome Creek, however. He suddenly understood how passion frequently overruled good sense, for his heart determined that he must see this young lady—this mysterious Copper Brown—again.
“Are you hungry, Dr. Corbett?” Copper climbed the few steps to the porch and looked around. Where is John? Oh, well, no matter. He must have gone home. “I’ll have biscuits on the table shortly.”
“Thank you. I am suddenly ravenous.” He took a deep breath and stretched. “This mountain air is as good as any tonic.”
Just as Cock-a-Doodle crowed the dawning of a new day, Willy burst through the screen door and Daddy stepped out of the house, pulling his suspenders over his shoulders and dropping his shoes on the porch.
“Doc,” he said, “we sure appreciate all you’ve done for our boy. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing . . . nothing,” Doctor Corbett answered. “But if we could barter a little, I’d
like to trade my knowledge for yours.
I wonder if you would allow me to go hunting with you? It’s a sport I’ve just recently become interested in, and I must admit I’m a poor shot.”
“Well, Doc, that’s easily fixed.” Daddy pressed two silver dollars into the young man’s unwilling hand. That was his way, Copper knew. He always paid back more than he owed. She saw the smile tugging at the corners of Daddy’s mouth as he spoke. “I’ll be leaving at sunup come Saturday morning. You be here and I’ll make a crack shot out of you by evening.”
Copper couldn’t figure out a way to be included. She was usually brazen, but the doctor made her feel shy somehow.
“Thank you, Mr. Brown.”
“Doc, don’t stand on ceremony. Call me Will.”
“Then you must call me Simon,” he said, thrusting his hand out for a firm shake and meeting his steady gaze. “I must say I’m impressed with your care for Daniel. You did all the right things for a snakebite.”
“Most of that’s due to his sister.” Daddy indicated her. “She thinks fast on her feet—Copper does.”
Copper blushed at Daddy’s compliment in front of a stranger. Opening the screen, she let herself into the kitchen. Mam stood at the stove, frying fatback in the iron skillet. She put her arm around Mam’s narrow waist and hugged her tightly. “Are you better this morning?”
“Oh, Laura Grace, yes. Yes, I am. I am so very grateful for God’s rich blessing. Daniel was awake when I got up. I’m sorry I left you to care for him last night. Thank you, Daughter.”
“You’re welcome, but actually Dr. Corbett did everything. I just watched.” Copper opened the oven door and checked on the biscuits, grateful for a new day and for the unusual warmth of her mother’s words filling the kitchen.
“It was comforting to have you with him in my absence, nonetheless,” Mam answered.
They laid a breakfast of thick-sliced bacon, eggs over easy, fried potatoes, sliced tomatoes, fried apples, and biscuits, along with fresh-brewed coffee. Daddy and Dr. Corbett carried the settee to the table so Daniel, his leg propped on a pillow, could eat with the family.
