“Which I accept,” Lia said.
“Adding a story onto the saloon for rooms we can do, but why not something different? Keep the rooms at the Lily for the staff, since you’ll have more of them. Remove the stairs from the front room of the Lily, so only the staff has access via the back stairs we’ll add.”
“Okay?” Doc said questioningly, listening.
“Add the third floor to the saloon, and make those rooms for guests. Then, we take the old office and convert it into bathing rooms for the building. The stairs in that building would climb to the second floor, and then onto the third, with a separate, smaller stairway that would go from third to baths, and not be visible to the card room or the balcony watching area.”
Doc looked at Lia, who was thinking. “Lia?”
“I’m fine with that change, but was that all, Urik?”
“No. I’d want to add in adornment to the entirety of the saloon, and once it’s done, to go back and do the same for the Lily.”
“Will you make the adornments to match the theme?” Lia asked.
“We can,” Urik said. “You want to stay with flowers?”
“A few would be nice,” Lia said. “Doc?”
“Flowers are fine,” Doc said. “We want it to be tasteful.”
Urik nodded. “Okay.”
Ursula handed the pad to Doc. “Like this?”
Doc looked at the drawings, showing the new designs for the buildings, and nodded. “I like it. Lia?”
Lia took the offered drawings and gave them a good look. “Approved.”
“Then we just need to come to terms on cost,” Urik said.
“That’s where I come in,” Ayla said. “I work for Doc now. I have a couple of options on compensation.”
Urik’s lips drew back, showing off his orange incisors. “I remember the deal you made us for the property—”
“Wait,” Doc said, stopping him. “You won’t be getting screwed over this time. One of the deals she’s put together includes us getting the deed for your house bought out from the bank, just like I bought out the Lily’s debt and a few others.”
Urik glanced at Lia. “Doc isn’t like Goodman. Do you think I’d bring him if he was?”
“He might’ve taken the debt and used it against you,” Urik said.
“Goodman or Suez would have,” Lia agreed. “Doc asked to be a partner in the business. It’s not like he needs my business, either. He has a profitable mine of his own.”
“Huh... Very well. Let’s see this compensation,” Urik said, holding out his hand to Ayla.
Chapter Seven
Doc entered the shop, shutting the door behind him. “Sigmund, you in?”
“Hats!” Sigmund’s voice exclaimed from the backroom.
Doc chuckled as he moved to the counter. “I can wait.” Taking off his bowler, Doc touched the silver band, engraved with card images.
“Good hat?” Sigmund asked, jumping onto the shelf behind the counter to be at eye-level with Doc.
“Exceptional hat,” Doc replied. “I especially love the band. Did you make it?”
“Yes. It felt right,” Sigmund nodded.
“Do you have a few minutes, Sigmund?” Doc asked seriously. “I’d like to try to help you make more hats.”
Sigmund blinked, staring at Doc before he stepped off the shelf. A moment later, he was over by the door, locking it and turning the sign to closed. Going toward the back, he motioned Doc to follow him.
Doc picked his hat up and held it in hand as he followed the gnome. Passing into the back hall, Doc’s steps slowed as he looked at the shelves filled with hats that ran the length of the hall. Shaking his head, he hurried his pace to catch the small man, who walked deceptively fast with his unique gait.
Sigmund opened a door and motioned Doc inside. Doc entered the room, stepping quickly aside so Sigmund could follow him. “This is where hats are made?”
“Yes,” Sigmund said softly, but the depth of his love for hats was clear in his tone.
“Do you know why you’re dying, Sigmund?” Doc asked as he followed the gnome to the two chairs in the room.
“Hatter,” Sigmund replied sadly.
“The mercury you use seeps into the blood,” Doc said. “It slowly drives a hatter mad and kills them. It’s heavy metal poisoning.”
“Hatter death,” Sigmund whispered. “Family, all.”
Doc nodded. “I can help if you want.” When he summoned healing hands, he made sure cleansing was active, too. “I can lend you a hand, as it were.”
Sigmund stared at Doc’s glowing green hands for a moment before he tittered. “Joke... funny.” The amusement vanished in a blink. “Help. Cost?”
“Friendship?” Doc asked.
Sigmund nodded slowly, then reached out to take Doc’s hand. “Friend, yes. Good to hats. Nice to me.”
Doc focused on what he felt inside Sigmund. Mercury poisoning was what was killing the gnome. It had also damaged his kidneys and was causing hearing loss, but the majority of the damage was neurological.
Pouring his energy into Sigmund, Doc focused on the kidneys and his hearing first, as those would be easier to fix. When those were back to good condition, he poured the rest of what he could into cleansing Sigmund’s bloodstream.
The gnome watched the man across from him with wide eyes as he felt the power infusing him. “Healer, but not doctor...” Sigmund whispered.
Doc didn’t hear him, lost in directing his energy. He felt the moment his energy was used up and when his vitality started to drain. Stopping there, he let the glow fade and sat back. “That’s all I can do today, Sigmund. I’ll come back over the next few days to cleanse more of it, but you’ll be adding more every time you use mercury.”
Sigmund sat still for a long moment. “Thank you, Doc.”
“A good milliner is hard to find,” Doc said. “How long has it been?”
Sigmund sat there, lips pursed as he thought. “Seventy years?”
“Long time to make hats.”
“Hats are love,” Sigmund replied.
“A lot of love in seventy years,” Doc smiled.
“Yes. You understand.”
“I’m trying to.”
Sigmund got to his feet abruptly. His odd jig step was still there, and Doc wondered if that was natural for him and not the mercury, after all. “Thanks required. New hat for you. I make.”
“No need,” Doc said, getting to his feet. “Friends help where they can, don’t they?”
Sigmund hesitated. “Too long...” he shrugged.
“Friends help,” Doc said again. “If you think something needs to be done, just thank Lady Luck. She’s special to me.” He tapped the card images on his hatband. “It’s why I love this hat.”
Sigmund’s smile grew wide. “Yes, thanks. Bring Stet back?”
Doc gave up trying to stop Sigmund from what he wanted to do. “I’ll bring it by when I can.”
“Good. New band for hat will make.”
“Okay. It might be a day or two before I can come back to help more, but I’ll be back. Did you get the deed registered?”
“Papers done. Stamped, signed. Shop be mine.”
“Good. Happy to help you and stick it to Goodman.”
“Goodman no love hats,” Sigmund said as if the very thought was an atrocity of the highest magnitude.
“Fool,” Doc grinned.
“Yes. Fool, but that means more hats for others.”
“So even he has a good point to him.”
Sigmund paused, looking torn about having to admit Goodman might’ve done something positive.
“Don’t let it phase you, Sigmund. I’ll see you soon. Did you want me to open up when I leave?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. Have a good day. May the hats be true.”
“Bands of truth to bring them together,” Sigmund sighed happily.
~*~*~
The Lily was as busy as it could be when Doc got back. Six tables were fu
ll, and the chips were moving across the felt. Doc gave Fiala a wink when he went past her table, getting a smile in return. Cassia stood behind the bar, fixing drinks for people, while Dillon watched over the games. He was surprised to see Ayla standing at the bar.
“Ayla? Something up?”
“If we can talk for a moment, please, sir?”
“Cassia, is the private dining room open?”
“It should be,” Cassia called to him.
“Thanks, Cassia.” He motioned Ayla toward the door. “Let’s go.”
When they settled into seats in the room, Ayla cleared her throat, “Doc, I’m not exactly sure what you want me to do. You hired me to manage your money, but you keep giving all of it away.”
“To stop me from giving away more than I have, to start with. The two plans you put together for the Beavertons were sharper than anything I could’ve managed. The fact you had them both there to act as a net if we can’t get the deed paid off was genius.”
Ayla looked down. “I shouldn’t criticize you... I mean, I tried to sell myself to you just to get away from Goodman, and you didn’t even blink at the amount owed.”
Doc didn’t reply, as she was clearly struggling to find the right words.
“You don’t appear to care about the money at all, yet you hired me to help you with financial decisions and not for what I... tried to offer you. I’m trying to do my best, but I can’t see what you’re after.”
Doc shook his head. “Right now, my goal is simple, Ayla. I want to break the stranglehold Goodman and Suez have on this town. I want to promote the people who’ve been pushed down, and give them a chance to get back on their feet. All the money from the mine is because of Luck, and she wants me to bring life back to the world. Honestly, a part of me would love nothing more than to keep all the money to myself. It’d be easy to live life that way, but I walk the hard roads— always have— and that’s why she chose me.”
“Luck... I’ve heard you say that multiple times. You mean a deity behind the idea of luck, don’t you?”
“Lady Luck is my patron goddess and the reason I’m here. You’ve heard stories before, haven’t you?”
Ayla swallowed hard, her eyes affixed to the table. “My mother used to tell those stories. Elder tales of those who worked for the gods. I never really believed, though.”
“It can be hard to accept,” Doc agreed. “If I wasn’t her Voice, I might not believe it, either. It goes against a lot of what I used to believe. Those close to me believe now.”
“Why?” Ayla asked softly. “I’m a person of hard numbers, not belief.”
Doc nodded. “Who all can heal?”
Ayla’s brow furrowed. “Doctors, shamans, and spirit healers, though the last two have been nearly eradicated. The church takes pride in disproving them.”
“Well, they’re going to be disappointed when they fail with me,” Doc said.
Ayla looked up. “Can you?”
“Yes. I’ve healed a few people here in town. Mostly dwarves, but also Henrick, Sigmund, and the clerk’s husband.”
Ayla bit her lip, then exhaled slowly. “How big of a wound does it have to be to heal?”
Doc shook his head. “I won’t do that to you. If you need proof, I’d rather it was me injured.”
Breathing slowly, Ayla shook her head. “No... I’m the one who needs proof.”
Doc put his knife on the table. “A small cut works.” He showed her the scar on his hand. “It leaves a scar, so keep that in mind.”
Taking the knife, Ayla’s breathing sped up some as she rolled up one of her sleeves. “Okay...”
Doc triggered healing hands and waited.
Seeing his hands glowing green, Ayla’s mouth gaped slightly. With a deep breath, she nicked her forearm enough to leave a red crease. Hissing, she dropped the knife on the table and grabbed her wounded arm.
Doc let a second pass, then reached for her. “Lady, please help my friend, who needs to believe.”
Ayla’s breath caught when his hand touched her arm and the warmth of his healing rushed into her. Feeling the pain fade, she stared at her arm in shock— she watched as the cut closed.
Doc grimaced as his head began to ache slightly. With the injury treated, he stopped healing her. “Wipe it off and see for yourself.”
Ayla pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the blood off her arm. The only trace of the wound was a thin, white line of scar tissue. Poking at it gently, she just sat there, shocked at what had transpired.
“That’s one of the things Luck has gifted to me,” Doc said. “It taxes me if I do too much in a single day, and I used up a majority of my energy today helping Sigmund.”
Ayla’s gaze went from her arm to his eyes. “The milliner?”
“He’s dealing with mercury poisoning. It eats at the body and damages the mind. He’s only partially cured. Because he’s been working with mercury for seventy years, it’ll take me days to purify him, and I’ll have to repeat it periodically since he’s going to continue to make hats.”
“What of Henrick?”
“I cured her lungs, but still need to help with her barrenness, eyesight, and drug addictions.”
“And the dwarves?”
“A number of minor issues, but the big one was Otto’s daughter. She was going to die from an infection.”
“Oh…”
“Bit of a shock, is it?”
Ayla nodded. “Yes.” Pausing for a second, she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why did you help me? It wasn’t because you wanted me. You don’t even look at me like that.”
“Because you needed the help and I needed someone who could make sure I didn’t break myself in the process. I’m glad you agreed, Ayla. I know you’ll do the best you can.”
Ayla nodded. “Okay, so we’re helping you free the town first, but then what?”
“I’ll move on and do it again and again until more people believe in Luck.”
“You’ll need a house of worship,” Ayla said seriously. “If you hadn’t gone with enlarging the Lily—”
“The Lily has already been registered as Luck’s house of worship and as a gambling hall,” Doc cut her off. “I’m sure they’ll try to hurt us by going after the Lily. I’ve been trying to think of how else to get around the restrictions of the law, and legally.”
Ayla got to her feet. “I’ll look into it, sir.”
“It’s—” Doc began.
“I’ll let you know once I have an answer,” Ayla said, talking right over him, her eyes burning with passion. “Excuse me.” With that, she left the room in a hurry.
“Not your problem,” Doc finished with a head shake. “Well, at least she’s on board.”
Chapter Eight
Stretching, Doc looped his arm over Fiala’s waist. Doc kissed her ear and smiled when she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Morning, my beautiful kitty.”
Fiala’s eyes shot wide open and she stiffened in his arms. “Doc! No!”
“Um, what?”
“Not that term. It’d be like calling Posy a ‘bunny,’ or Lia a ‘pointy-ear.’ It’s derogatory!” She turned over to face him, her eyes searching his face. “Why did you say that?”
“I didn’t know,” Doc said softly. “I still don’t know some things about the world, Fiala. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The honesty in his face helped ease Fiala’s worry. “Okay... I’m sorry for raising my voice. If you hadn’t told me about you not being from this world, I might’ve stormed out and questioned your love for me.”
“Because it would feel like I was just using you and not loving you,” Doc sighed. “I get it. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
Fiala gave him a tentative smile. “I forgive you, Doc. Why did you even think that it would be okay, though?”
Doc coughed. “Well, on my old world, there were a lot of books that had people of mixed animal and human types. One of my favorites had a woman like you, and the protagonist called her his ‘silly ki
tty.’ I think I projected a little.”
Fiala shook her head. “And she allowed it?”
“Only from him and their wives,” Doc admitted.
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