“Why is Doctor Walline writing to places?”
“I didn’t ask the doctor and she didn’t offer any suggestions.”
But Mack knew why. Pansy was determined to leave the town because she wanted to leave—or thought she was going to be asked to leave. Either way, the thoughts squeezed a tight band around Mack’s heart. He meant it when he told Pansy he loved her. Could he really live apart from her now that he’d found the woman who tied his heart, and tongue, in knots?
“I know I kid you about her being a moose, but she is the right woman for you, Mack. How are you going to win her hand?”
“I don’t know,” Mack shook his head, wishing something in his thick skull would rattle loose and give him an answer.
“Well you better figure it out, or you’ll be back to only kissing eighty-year-old women at the New Year’s Eve party.”
Mack sighed, knowing Cullen was right. He had to fix this problem before Pansy left town. “Who would give the best advice on this? Da or Ma?”
Cullen pressed his hands on the counter while he thought.
“Talk to Doc Pansy instead. Our parents always turned to each other when there was a problem in the family, or in their ministry. Even when you can tell Ma would love to hit Da in the head with her frying pan, she doesn’t go talking to anyone else about her problems.”
Mack could remember several times as a kid when his parents would disagree to the point of shouting. But then one of them would say they needed to “find something in the church office” and leave the house together. It could be a few minutes or an hour before their parents returned, but they usually came back in a good mood.
Huh. Mack didn’t think of it until now, but they went to church to have some alone time away from their six sons. Mack chuckled at the thought.
“Are you laughing at me?” Cullen asked.
“Nope. Just thinking that sometimes Ma’s hair was a little messed up and Da had a grin on his face when they came back into the house,” Mack wiggled his eyebrows at Cullen.
“Oh gee, do you have to remind me? That always embarrassed the heck out of me because I knew what they’d been doing.”
“Uh, sorry for bringing that up,” Mack said. Cullen may have been young at the time, but he remembered living in the brothel with his mother before becoming a member of the Reagan family. “Anyway, you’re right, little brother. I need some alone time with my future wife.”
“Okay, glad I’m right. But don’t give me the details after you meet Doc Pansy and work things out. I never plan to get that close to a woman in my lifetime.”
Mack felt the weight lift off his shoulders. He’d make things right with Pansy, even if they had to “find something in the church office” themselves.
“Never say never, Cullen. When you see the right woman for you, you’ll feel like you’ve been struck by lightning.”
Mack turned to leave, but retreated his steps. “Give me the letter for Doctor Walline. I’ll deliver it, so I can corner her for a serious talk.”
Cullen held it out. “Good luck.”
Mack took the letter and nodded to his brother. “Thanks. I’ll need it, but I’m not backing down. I said it the first time I saw Pansy and I still feel it. She’s the right woman, and I need to share my life with her.”
Chapter 13
Pansy heard the bell ring over the front office door as she clipped Edna Clancy's toenails. The five-minute task had lasted over an hour because Edna was talking about anything and everything she could think of. She knew the old woman needed someone to talk to since she was home alone so much of the time.
Her husband, Dan, spent most mornings in his old café, now run by his grandson, Nolan, and his wife, Holly. If Dan wasn't at home taking a nap in the afternoon, he was visiting with friends who gathered on the benches in the boardwalks downtown.
"Mrs. Clancy, you could be more mobile and get out to enjoy your friends if you used a cane," Pansy suggested.
"I don't need a cane! I get along just fine!"
Barely, but Pansy knew not to argue with Edna. One of these days Edna would use a cane, or fall and break a hip.
"Doctor Walline?" The man's pained voice called from front office. “I need some help."
"I'll be with you in a moment, sir."
"What's Adolph Bjorklund doing here? Is he courting you?" Edna asked.
Bjorklund...the butcher. Did he cut himself?
"Edna, please stay put while I see what Mr. Bjorklund needs," Pansy ordered, not trusting the woman to limp out barefoot to see what was going on in the front room.
As a last thought, she picked up an enamel wash basin and a clean towel before hurrying to the front room.
"Oh, dear," Pansy muttered as she rushed to hold the wash pan under the man's hand. Even though he'd wrapped a rag around it, blood was dripping on the floor where he stood, looking woozy from the shock of his injury.
"Let's get you into the examination room, Mr. Bjorklund, before you pass out."
Oh, shoot. Mrs. Clancy still sat in there with her shoes off. At least the woman was sitting in a chair instead of up on the examination table.
Well, Edna would have to deal with the interruption because Pansy was afraid if Adolf collapsed on the floor, she'd have a heck of a time getting him up again.
Pansy grabbed Adolph around the waist to steady his staggering steps to the room. Before they entered, Pansy called out, "Edna, close your eyes while I get Mr. Bjorklund on the table. He's bleeding badly, and I don't need you to pass out too."
"Bring him in. I'm ready to assist!"
Oh no. That's not what I need. Two people wobbling and falling at the same time.
Adolph's body slumped as they passed through the doorway and Pansy struggled to pull him the last steps to the table. She laid him chest down on the table letting his legs dangle down the side as she stopped to catch her breath.
"Good work, Doctor Pansy. I'll get my last shoe on and assist you."
Pansy rolled her eyes at Edna's enthusiastic words. She grabbed the towel she'd slung across her shoulder and wrapped it around Adolph's limp hand. Grabbing the man's legs, she pushed and tugged until he was up on the table and flipped face up.
Poor man. He worked all day cutting up meat but fainted at the sight of his own blood?
While he was out, she hurried to gather supplies. She poured carbolic acid into a small container holding her sewing needle and catgut to sterilize them.
"I'm ready. Let's see what he did to himself," Edna said at Pansy's elbow.
"I'd rather you go home, or go sit in the other room, please," Pansy said as she unwrapped the first soaked towel from Bjorklund's hand. The blood had already soaked through the towel in the short amount of time it had been in use.
Pansy had a stack of gauze and another towel ready before she pulled the rag off the man's hand. She drew in a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst.
"Why, he fileted the top of his hand." Edna remarked as she looked closely at Bjorklund's hand.
"I asked you to leave, Edna," Pansy tried not to hiss out her words.
"I'm fine. Clean up his hand, and then I'll hold it to keep the man steady while you stitch it up."
"Okay. Thank you." What else could Pansy say since she had to get his hand cleaned and stitched before he lost any more blood?
Edna tentatively watched—and commented—as Pansy cleaned the man's hand. The wound wasn't deep, but he'd cut a thin layer of skin flap right above his thumb and across the top of his hand. At least it was a clean cut instead of a jagged one, so it was easy to lay the skin down and stitch the edges back together.
"Does Mr. Bjorklund have help in his shop?" Pansy asked Edna, while noticing the difference between the woman's two arthritic hands which were carefully cradling the man's large hand. "The butcher shop should be closed a week or two until Bjorklund’s hand heals."
"No, but everyone will pitch in to help him out, or go without meat for a while."
Bjorklund started to gr
oan and move as Pansy wrapped gauze around his hand.
Edna used the edge of the table to steady herself as she stepped closer to his face and stroked his forehead. "Now lay still while the doctor wraps your hand. She's almost done."
Adolph went still a moment and then turned his head to see who was speaking.
"Mrs. Clancy? What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously.
"Oh, just helping the good doctor clean up your hand. It'll be good as new once it heals."
Adolph turned his head and met Pansy's gaze. "How bad is it? Am I going to lose my hand?"
"No, you just cut your skin. Didn't even cut a muscle." Pansy assured him.
"Then why are you covered in blood?" Adolph whispered in shock.
Pansy looked down her front, and her white shirtwaist was indeed ruined. She hadn't taken the time to grab her apron and put it on before catching Adolph.
"You fainted, and your bloody rag smeared down my...chest." Right between the middle of her breasts to be exact. "How about you lie still and recuperate while I change?" Pansy suggested seeing the trail of blood down the front of her light blue skirt. She’d worn the wrong color of clothing today.
"I'll stay with him until you return, Doctor Pansy," Edna remarked, patting Adolph on his shoulder.
Well, the man wouldn't go anywhere while Edna was in charge, so Pansy went in the hallway to go up the back stairs to her apartment.
"Doctor Pansy! Davey's so sick he's passed out," a young mother called out as she rushed toward Pansy, oblivious to her state of clothing.
Pansy felt the toddler's forehead expecting a high fever, but it was cool. His face, however, was turning blue as he wheezed for air.
Pansy grabbed the boy by his arm away from his mother, laid his unconscious body over her left arm and whacked his back with her right hand twice.
The toddler gasped for air, then emptied the contents of his stomach down the front of her skirt. After another gasp of air, the child started crying in earnest.
The mother grabbed her son back and held him against her chest, soothing his wide-eyed fright with her touch and words.
"I think he swallowed something that closed his air pipe," Pansy stated, trying to calm them all down.
"We were just eating at the café and...he grabbed a big piece of steak off my plate." The mother started to cry. "I should have cut my meat into smaller pieces. I almost killed my son!"
Edna patted the young mother on the back as she stroked the back of the child's head. "But it didn't happen, Maybell, because we have a good doctor in town. You be sure you tell your folks about Doctor Pansy's quick work. We need her, even though the town council thinks otherwise."
The young woman straightened her back and turned to Pansy. "Yes, you are needed here and I'll be sure you stay. I left my reticule in the café, but I'll be back to pay you for saving my son."
"Thank you, but I'm sorry I forgot your name," Pansy felt bad she didn't know everyone in town yet.
"I'm Maybell Banard, from Kansas City now. This is my son, Willy. We're here visiting my parents, the Taylors, who own the mercantile."
Pansy looked at Edna who sported a wide grin. "I think your job is now safe, Doctor Pansy."
Everyone turned as the doorbell chimed and Mack walked in the entrance.
"Good golly! Are you, all right?" Mack asked as he rushed to Pansy's side.
"Yes, I'm fine. All in a day's work, Mack," Pansy said as she put her hands on her hips, not minding that he saw her messy clothes. She’d saved a man's hand and a child's life in the past half hour and she felt good.
***
Mack's heart dropped and skidded across the waiting room floor when he saw the blood and—was that vomit?—coating Pansy's clothing. What happened to the child who had tears in his eyes but looked fine otherwise?
"Maybell? It’s good to see you, but what happened?" Mack laid his hand on the small boy's back, concerned since they were in the doctor's office and Pansy looked like she'd been working in a meat factory.
"Hello, Mack. Willy choked on his food while we were at the café, so I ran over here with him. My son's alright, thanks to your new doctor."
That explained the mess on Pansy's skirt, but not the blood on her shirtwaist.
Everyone turned as Adolph Bjorklund stepped out of the exam room and stopped to lean against the door frame.
"Mr. Bjorklund, you shouldn't be standing yet," Pansy rushed to the man's side, giving Mack a tinge of jealousy.
Edna Clancy poked her head out of the examination room and looked up at Pansy. I tried to keep him down on the table, but he's too strong, and stubborn." For having difficulty walking, Edna got around her office just fine.
"Thank you for your help, Edna. I appreciate it. How about you walk Maybell and her son back to the café now?"
"No. I should walk Adolph back to the butcher shop," the old woman protested.
"I think that's a better job for Mack. And while you're escorting Maybell back to the café, I’ll change my clothes before my next patient arrives."
Mack looked at Adolph and nodded his head to the office door. "Ready to go?"
"Definitely." But Adolph turned to Pansy before leaving. "Thanks for sewing up my hand, Doctor Walline. I'll have to come back to pay you since I rushed over here without my wallet." Mack wanted to grab his arm and usher him out the door instead of stalling to talk to Pansy.
"Thank you. Or come back tomorrow so I can check your hand, and you can pay me then."
"I’ll be back once I’m over the shock. Thanks again."
Mack turned to Edna since she hadn't left yet. It would help Pansy if Mack got her out of the door too.
"Ladies, first," Mack announced as he opened the door and waited for Edna and Maybell to walk in front of him and Adolph.
Mack looked back to Pansy as he reached for the handle to shut the door. "Can I bring supper over here at six o'clock? I’d like to have a private discussion with you," he quietly asked, searching her face to gauge her reaction.
She bit her lower lip but nodded to his question.
"Okay. I'll see you then."
Chapter 14
The mouthwatering smell of roast beef grew stronger with each step up the staircase. Did Iris fix a roast for her and Fergus' supper? Pansy was running up to her apartment a minute to freshen up before Mack arrived at her office.
But then she realized the tantalizing scent was coming from her apartment, the open door having wafted it down the staircase. She was sure she’d locked the door after changing her clothes only a few hours ago.
Pansy pushed open the door not sure what to expect.
"Hello, Pansy. Come in and sit down. Our supper's ready." Finding Mack standing by the wood stove with her white cotton apron around his waist was not what she had expected.
"How did you get in?" Pansy couldn't help accusing him of mischief. "Didn't I lock the door in my hurry to get back downstairs?"
Mack's grin melted her anger with him. "Yep. Door was locked, but I still have a key."
"Well, I'll forgive you this time since supper smells delicious and I'm famished. What did you, or should I ask, your mother, make for our meal?"
"Ma taught us all to cook and bake. I bought a roast from Adolph—"
"He's not supposed to work for at least a week," Pansy interrupted.
"It was still on the counter when we walked into his store, so I wrapped the roast and took it, so he didn't have to deal with it."
Pansy didn't mention how it was probably the hunk of meat he was working on when he cut himself. She shuddered thinking how bad Adolph's cut could have been.
"And I bought potato and carrots from Taylor's Mercantile. They were very grateful you had saved their grandchild by the way—and added the vegetables to the cooking roast."
Mack made a grand sweep of his arm to point to the pie on Pansy's table. "Edna Clancy baked a pie for our dessert, to thank you for clipping her toenails and for letting her be your assistant."
; The sweet man had already set their plates and silverware on the table. Pansy's heart melted when she spied the glass canning jar overflowing with pink and white roses.
"Oh, I love roses! Where did you get them?"
"Uh, don't tell Marshal Wilerson, but I trimmed his wife's rose bushes along the south side of their house," Mack sheepishly admitted.
"You don't think Millie will notice her roses are gone? You cut quite a few," Pansy teased him. She would thank Millie for the flowers though, just so the marshal's wife knew what had happened to her clipped rose bushes.
"Please sit down and I'll serve our meal," Mack asked as he pulled a chair out for her. Mack might seem big and clumsy at times, but he was a courteous man. It was obvious his parents had drilled manners into their sons early in life.
Pansy couldn't help but think what married life would be like with Mack. It would be a good, solid, and loving union. Dare she think of accepting a marriage proposal if he brought it up again? But no, she was sure she’s closed that possibility with her previous refusals.
Mack piled a generous serving of food on her plate and set it on the table in front of her. The steaming meat and vegetables reminded Pansy she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She'd been busy with patients all day for a change.
"So how was your day?" Mack asked before stuffing a large hunk of roast in his mouth and chewed on it while waiting for her to answer.
"Busiest day I've had so far in town and the most profitable. Both Maybell and Adolph stopped by later in the afternoon and actually paid me with money."
"Here, here!" Mack raised his mug of coffee in a mock salute. "You'll be rich before you know it." Mack took a sip of the hot liquid to hide his teasing smile.
"One day of business does not make up for most everyone else's avoidance of the doctor." Pansy pointed the chunk of potato on her fork at Mack before popping it in her mouth.
"True." Mack put his fork down and pulled a letter from the inside of his vest. "Cullen asked me to give this to you, but I forgot in the mayhem of your office this afternoon."
Pansy stared at the envelope as Mack slid the letter across the wooden table toward her. The postmark was from a town in Illinois she’d written to about their advertisement for a doctor. She was upfront in all her job inquires that she was a woman doctor, and this is the first one which had answered back.
Grooms with Honor Series, Books 4-6 Page 9
