Choices of the Heart, page 5
“The powders I have aren’t intended for little ones. They’d pose too great a risk.” Dr. Jones offered the explanation without embarrassing the boy for his well-meaning but inadvisable idea. “I can, however, make a tisane that is safer for them. I’ll do that once they’re settled.”
They all headed upstairs.
Sophie walked at Flora’s side. “Everyone here has great faith in Dr. Jones. The children could not be in better hands.”
The woman nodded. “We all praise the day he arrived. Hope Springs lost half the town to fever on account of not having a doctor to help them. Everyone in the surrounding area is grateful to have one now.”
Joseph’s late wife had died of a fever. Perhaps, it was the same one Flora referred to.
They passed by Mrs. Archer’s room. None of her visitors had left.
Sophie accompanied Flora into the room, where her children were settled on the bed. Dr. Jones met Sophie’s eye. “You’ll have to let Miss Emma know this room is being used.”
She would be disappointed not to be able to look after her grandmother, but she had too good a heart to resent the room being used for such an important purpose.
To Aidan, Dr. Jones said, “Take a bucket out to the water pump and bring it back full. We’ll need water to cool the children.”
He rushed to fulfill the directive. Flora moved to her husband’s side, who set an arm around her shoulders.
“We’re likely to keep them here for a day or two,” the doctor warned.
Lorenzo nodded. “We suspected we wouldn’t be hurrying back. We’ve all we need in the wagon.”
“The room beside this one is empty. I don’t mean simply that there’s no one using it; I mean it is literally empty. There’s no furniture or anything.”
Lorenzo didn’t look the least upended by that. “We can pass a night or two on a floor, especially if it puts us near the children.”
“Everyone can take it in turns to look after them,” Dr. Jones said. “Then no one has to go entirely without sleep.”
“You already have a patient,” Flora said. “We don’t wish to take you away from her.”
Here was a worry Sophie could assuage. “She’s much better. All that remains for her to do is to rest, and she can do that without the doctor’s attention. Dr. Jones, in fact, is certain she will be leaving in the morning.”
Lorenzo released a tight breath. Flora pressed a hand to her heart, brow still pulled but some of the tension lessening around her mouth.
“Undress the children,” Dr. Jones said. “As soon as Aidan returns with the water, we’ll begin cooling them off.”
The parents set to the task.
Dr. Jones crossed to Sophie. “Thank you. Flora needed comfort, and I didn’t seem to be offering as much of it as was needed.”
“Well, I don’t know enough about doctoring to have offered information or treatments. But I do know how to give support.”
“Is that part of your role with Mrs. Archer? You offer her reassurance in the storms of life?”
Sophie almost laughed. “That proverbial shoe is very much on the proverbial other foot.”
That seemed to surprise him. “I haven’t yet decided if you talk at cross purposes intentionally or if you are simply a very confusing person.”
She smiled at that. “And I can’t decide if you are blunt on purpose or if you are simply a very straightforward person.”
He seemed to study her. “I don’t know how long you will be in Hope Springs, Miss Kingston, but I doubt it will be long enough for you to sort out all the mysteries you’re likely to come across.”
“Are there a great many, then?”
He nodded and didn’t look away.
“And would sorting them out prove dangerous?” She wasn’t sure if she liked the idea or not.
“I would say difficult more than dangerous.”
Excitement bubbled a bit. “I think you will discover, good doctor, that I am terribly good at puzzles.”
The Campo children were at the infirmary for two days. Their fevers broke within hours of their arrival. By the end of the first day, they were eating. By the end of the second, they were tired but restless. And the next morning, the family packed up and returned home.
As was common, Burke had been paid in kind. Few people in the area had ready cash. Fortunately, Lorenzo Campo was as handy with a hammer and nails as Patrick O’Connor. He’d spent the second day of his children’s convalescence, knowing they were on the road to recovery, out back of the building, using the boards and nails Burke had set aside for the purpose of making a bed frame for the third room in Burke’s infirmary.
He had the rope needed for stringing the bottom of the bed. He had the heavy canvas for creating the mattress and tick. Any number of farmers in the area could sell him straw for stuffing them. He still hadn’t the number of stools he wanted or water pitchers, but those were secondary to having a bed for an ailing patient to lie on. The shelving and sitting room bench he wanted were even further down his list.
With the bed frame made, he was that much closer to having his infirmary put fully to rights. Everything might actually be ready by the time Alexander arrived. Burke would be able to hold his head high.
In the meantime, though, he had patients to look in on. He grabbed his doctoring bag and slipped out onto the porch. As always, he left a note on the door telling anyone who came by where he’d headed. Doctors weren’t afforded a great deal of privacy. They needed to be found at a moment’s notice.
That bit didn’t bother him, though. He’d not ever had time or space to himself, so he didn’t miss it. And he’d always wanted to be a doctor, which he now was. He had more reasons to be proud than disappointed, yet sometimes he fought precisely that.
He headed to the stables. The very back stall held his horse; the hardworking animal had been an expensive but very necessary purchase. His buggy he’d procured secondhand, thank the heavens. He’d not have been able to afford it otherwise.
Patrick was in the stables. “Where’re you off to, Burke?”
“I haven’t looked in on Mrs. Archer since she left the infirmary. I want to make certain she’s doing well.”
“Best make certain Miss Kingston’s doing well while you’re there.” Patrick tossed him a look that was a little too knowing and a lot too amused.
“She is not the one who was ill.”
“And yet, she’s the one you’ve mentioned the most the last two days.”
Burke led his horse from its stall. “She was very helpful with the Campo children.”
“So you’ve said.” Patrick never was one to let a chance to tease go to waste.
“I was grateful.”
“So you’ve said. Seems to me she’s caught your attention.”
Burke gave him what he intended to be an aridly dry look and received two hands held up in surrender as a reply.
“I’ve put a note on my door,” Burke said. “Should anyone come looking for me, send them to the Archer place.”
“And if Miss Kingston comes looking for you? What should I do then?” So much for surrender.
“Keep your mouth shut, that’s what you should do.”
Patrick grinned and laughed unrepentantly. He was a good sort. Despite his tendency to badger, he and Eliza were the best of neighbors. Life might not have turned out exactly as Burke had imagined over the years, but it was far from terrible.
Dust kicked up behind the buggy as he set his horse to a trot in the direction of town. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of the view he had of the Hope Springs valley as he crested the hill separating it from the inn. Fields spread out in all directions dotted by farmhouses. The town itself boasted only three buildings, but they were rather picturesque. Compared to Chicago, it hardly counted as a town. But he liked it.
The Archer farm was the first one past the schoolhouse. It sat at the fork in the road, a wooden bridge to one side spanning the Hope Springs river.
Burke was shown inside by the housekeeper. Mrs. Archer was in the sitting room, dressed finer than anyone in Hope Springs ever was. The Archer home had always been neatly furnished and impressive. But having her there made it feel… intimidating.
“Burke.” Katie was in the sitting room as well and smiled as he approached. “’Tis a fine thing for you to look in on us.”
Emma sat among them. As was common for her, she simply smiled and kept her peace.
“Dr. Jones.” Mrs. Archer greeted him with a dip of her head.
“How are you feeling?” He set his bag on the desk beneath the nearby windows and moved the slat-back chair to face the settee.
“Much better, thank you.”
“Do you mind if I undertake a quick and unobtrusive evaluation?”
She shook her head. Even that minute gesture dripped with sophistication. How was it the well-to-do managed to make mundane things formidably elegant?
He took refuge in the knowledge that he was currently undertaking a task at which he was something of an expert. He had confidence in his abilities as a doctor, and that steadied him even when he felt terribly small.
He set his fingers on her wrist beneath her lace cuffs and studied her coloring, satisfied that she was neither overly pale nor flushed. The Irish in town were so naturally pale, he sometimes couldn’t be certain how they were feeling. Out on the ranches, the cowboys were, as was the case throughout Wyoming Territory, far more diverse. Many came from generations of Mexican equestrians. There were a significant number of Black cowboys. All the ranch hands and cattle runners worked hard and were frustratingly stubborn about seeking a doctor’s care when they needed it. He’d worked hard to earn their respect and trust. More than once, Burke had silently thanked the heavens that his time in Chicago had been spent in many different areas of the city, treating a wide variety of ailments, and coming to know a great many people. Too many doctors had only a narrow frame of reference and it cost far too many people their lives.
“Have you been eating as you normally do?” Burke asked Mrs. Archer.
“I have. And my body does not seem upset about it.”
“And have you been feverish?”
“I have not.”
Burke leaned back in his chair, though he kept his posture very proper. That had been required of them during sponsor inspections at the orphanage. He didn’t think he would ever be able to slouch in front of influential people.
“I would say you have recovered quite well,” he said. “I’m glad of it.”
“As am I.” Katie sat beside her mother-in-law.
That brought Burke’s evaluating gaze to her. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been a little tired today, but ’tisn’t anything worth fretting over. All seems well.”
He nodded, then looked to Emma. “You’ll tell me if she’s ever not well and being stubborn about it?”
Emma laughed lightly. “I will.”
“Does every doctor employ spies?” Katie asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“When they have a town full of obstinate people, they do.” Only after offering the quip did he remember there was a new person in the room whose sense of humor he was not yet familiar with.
He looked to Mrs. Archer, bracing himself for disapproval. But she seemed entirely unbothered by it. That had been a stroke of luck.
A sudden commotion toward the back of the house pulled all their eyes in that direction. In the next moment, Ivy Archer and Miss Kingston came rushing in the room. Both grinned broadly, laughing and a bit out of breath.
Miss Kingston looked every bit as topsy-turvy as she had upon arriving at the inn a few days earlier. The sight tugged oddly at his heart.
Seems to me she’s caught your attention.
Burke pushed that aside. Patrick liked to needle him; that didn’t mean Burke had to put any store by it.
Miss Kingston made a valiant effort to smooth her hair and look dignified. She mouthed an apology to Mrs. Archer.
“We went to see Finbarr’s house,” Ivy declared with enthusiasm. “And then we ran back. I was faster than Sophie.” She spun in place, then dropped onto the floor and sprawled on her back. “I was so fast.”
Burke eyed the dramatic display. “Ivy is clearly recovered from her chicken pox.”
“How are the Campo twins?” Miss Kingston asked. “I’ve worried about them.”
“They went home this morning,” he said.
She sighed, the sound one of sincere relief.
“Did you see Finbarr?” Emma asked, though whether she posed the question to Miss Kingston or her sister Burke wasn’t certain.
“From a distance,” Miss Kingston said. “Ivy pointed him out to me.”
Her voice a bit quieter, Emma asked, “Did he say anything?”
From her position still stretched out on the floor, Ivy answered, “Finbarr never says anything.”
If only that were more of an exaggeration than it actually was.
Burke rose from his chair and moved to stand beside Miss Kingston. He quietly asked, “Did Finbarr look whole and healthy?”
“He was at a considerable distance, sitting on a fence with his hat pulled low. Ivy called out to him, but he didn’t answer. We were far enough away it was possible he didn’t hear, especially over the sound of so many bells ringing.”
“He has bells of varying pitches tied at the edges of his property,” Burke explained. “The sound helps him orient himself.” The sound might have kept him from hearing Ivy’s greeting. It was just as possible he did hear and was choosing to keep a distance. “Did Finbarr have his dog with him?”
Miss Kingston nodded. “Sitting on the ground by his feet. A beautiful animal that took note of us there but made no effort to abandon the young man.”
“Madra is very loyal to him.” And a comforting companion.
Finbarr seemed to have found contentment in his isolation. Still, it worried Burke, as a doctor, to not know if the young man was unwell, in body or spirit.
To the room in general, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to walk out to his place myself. See how he’s doing.”
He was bid farewell as he grabbed his doctor’s bag. He’d reached the entryway when Miss Kingston joined him there.
“Do you mind if I go along?”
“I don’t mind, though I’m not certain why you’d want to.”
She shrugged. “I have discovered there is absolutely nothing for me to do here. The house is well looked after. Mrs. Archer is fully occupied with her family.”
“And I am a better option than being bored?”
“Something like that.”
He supposed that was fair. “I should warn you that I am not nearly as fun of a companion as Ivy.”
“I don’t think anyone is. That girl is a bundle of joyful energy.”
They stepped out of the house, making their way toward the river. The day was fine and the weather cooperative. It would make for a pleasant walk.
“The Archers tell me the weekly céilí is tomorrow,” Miss Kingston said. “They are excited to attend.”
“Are you?” Burke asked.
“Excited to attend?”
He nodded.
“I am. I’ve never been to an Irish party, and Ivy makes it sound like an absolute delight.”
“It is a humble delight,” he said.
She eyed him as they turned to follow the river; it, rather than the road, led to Finbarr’s farm. “You continually warn me about the party, all but saying you don’t think I ought to go.”
It was the thought he’d had, but hearing her put it so bluntly gave him pause. “I have been to a couple gatherings like those you would have known in Baltimore. I know how different they are from what you’ll find tomorrow.”
“And you think I will disapprove?”
“I hope not.” That was nothing but the truth. “And I further hope you won’t be miserable there, Miss Kingston.”
“Please, call me Sophie. All the Archers do, and I suspect all of Hope Springs will as well.”
He nodded his acknowledgement. “And most everyone calls me Burke or sometimes Doc. The children mostly call me Dr. Jones.”
“Burke. That’s a lovely name.”
“Thank you. I chose it myself.”
Why he so thoroughly enjoyed her look of intrigued shock, he couldn’t say. But he did enjoy it.
“I was left as an infant at an orphanage in Illinois. Foundlings who didn’t have a name were assigned a surname—I was given Jones—and that was the only name we were known by. When I was five or six, I decided I wanted a first name as well. So, I chose one.”
“And that’s what they started calling you?”
“The other children did. The matron and caregivers did not. I was always ‘Jones’ to them.”
The wind whipped around strands of her light brown hair. “There is something so dismissive in refusing to call someone by the name they prefer. It tears away at their very identity.”
He nodded and sighed. “I don’t suspect they were overly concerned about such things.”
“Then they oughtn’t have been entrusted with the care of children. Concern for a child’s wellbeing should be a prerequisite.”
He didn’t often talk about that part of his life. But having someone agree so quickly with his assessment of the experience was proving a comfort.
“What about you? Is Sophie a family name?”
She nodded. “My grandmother’s. I think my family hoped by naming me after her I would be inspired to be very well behaved.”
“Did their theory prove a good one?”
The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You saw my arrival with Ivy. What do you think?”
“I think you brought some joy to a child. That is a credit to you.”
She no longer fought the smile. “I like you, Burke Jones.”
The declaration proved more gratifying than he would have guessed, certainly more than he cared to admit. Patrick would have instantly seized on that if he were nearby.
Their steps had taken them to the edge of Finbarr’s land. It was marked by a large rock, one flat enough for sitting on and enjoying a rest from the day’s labors. Finbarr was there, doing precisely that.
The dog laying on the rock beside him lifted its head as Burke and Miss Kingston approached. The protective creature eyed them closely but didn’t move a single inch from Finbarr. The young man’s head turned in their direction, apparently having heard their approach.
