Page 13 of Brian and Cora (The Bachelors of Three Bend Lake #2)
T he next day, Cora awoke with a sense of buoyancy that made her bounce out of bed.
The feeling stayed with her while she got dressed, all through breakfast, and driving in the coach with Delia to visit the Hatters to check on Horace’s recovery.
The bank clerk was knocked unconscious by the robbers and had been slow to recover.
At the Hatters’ they’d found Horace out of bed and holding court in a chair.
He was resplendent in a robe and slippers gifted by Andre and Delia, with only a small bandage around his head.
Several of the ladies of Sweetwater Springs, along with Margaret Temogen, wife of the sheriff of Morgan’s Crossing, who’d dropped by for a final visit to before she returned home with her children, circled the man as if they were his courtiers.
The excited chatter of the women made them sound like twittering birds—joyful ones.
After they left the Hatters’ and climbed into the carriage for the short trip to the Camerons’ home, Delia let out a soft sigh.
“I declare, the difference between our visits this past week and today are night and day. To see Mr. Hatter up and around instead of being bedridden from his injury and remorse…”
Cora chuckled. “He was practically levitating out of his chair with relief that the stolen money was returned.”
Delia placed a hand on her chest. “My, it does my soul good to laugh. Her expression sobered. “This past week, as much as we tried, we couldn’t hide our fear. The very air in Sweetwater Springs was heavy with tension. And I’m sure the Good Lord felt bombarded by our prayers.
” Her Southern accent thickened to honey.
“To feel the relief and joy…” She patted her heart.
“I find it hard to put my feelings into words.”
“I can’t even imagine how terrified you all must have been. In the very short time I’ve been here, I can see the bonds of friendship you all share. Quite different from New York, where we only socialized with a few of our neighbors.”
“Papa revels in the close-knit community here and has all sorts of plans for the future of the town.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’ve been so worried for him. He took the robbery so hard, as if he were personally responsible.
You know Papa’s always so jovial. To see him with downtrodden spirits…
.” She fished in her reticule for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.
“He’s so dear to me, you see. We’ve had such a short time together. ”
Cora leaned forward to touch Delia’s knee. “He’s dear to us, too. And we’re so glad he’s found happiness with your family.”
The coach pulled up in front of a two-story white house with a broad front porch, the yard surrounded by a white picket fence lined with rose bushes. Here and there a few red roses lingered. Autumn flowers bloomed in green window boxes.
Guess that answers my question of if marigolds grow in Montana. The thought sent a pang of missing Ivy, and Cora made a mental note to talk to Mr. Bellaire to see about possible teaching positions in the area.
Sam helped them out of the carriage.
Delia gestured toward the front door. “Since we’re paying a social call, we won’t go around to the back. The doctors’ office has a separate entrance there.”
They walked up the brick pathway and onto the porch, where Delia sounded the knocker and waited. Then she knocked again.
The woman who answered the door had red hair coming loose from a bun and faint dark circles under her tired blue eyes.
She looked to be about five months pregnant.
When she saw them, the warmth in her expression almost banished the fatigue from her face.
“Delia!” She looked at Cora, her smile widening.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess. Miss Cora Collier. ”
Cora chuckled. “One cannot stay a stranger in this town.”
“True,” Delia said in a decisive tone.
“I’m Alice Cameron. Welcome to Sweetwater Springs.” She spoke with a faint Scottish accent.
Delia chuckled and turned to Cora. “You’ll have to get used to the way news spreads around a small town faster than a river runs. When I first lived here, I was quite astonished.”
Mrs. Cameron stepped back. “Do come in.”
The Cameron home was comfortable rather than elegant, done up in shades of brown and green.
Alice waved them to a green velvet settee, and then shifted as if to leave the room. “Let me get tea. You’ve arrived at a rare time of quiet. We have no patients, and my little boy, Craig, is napping. We’ll be able to chat, that is, until one or the other, or both, change.”
Delia placed a hand on Mrs. Cameron’s arm. “Don’t go to any bother, Alice. We had tea at the Hatters’, and, if you haven’t heard, Mr. Hatter is up and about and full of good cheer.”
“Excellent. Fergus plans to stop by the Hatters’ later after his last appointment.” She took a seat in the chair across from them.
Cora studied the woman, noting that her vivacity didn’t quite banish her air of fatigue, and wondered if she was taking care of herself.
There’s that saying about how the cobbler’s children don’t have shoes.
Hopefully, the doctor isn’t neglecting his wife’s health.
“Actually, Mrs. Cameron, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with your husband regarding becoming a nurse. ”
“Oh, well then.” She gave Cora an assessing glance and then nodded in apparent approval. “He’s in the office, probably at his desk reading the latest medical journals.”
Medical journals. Cora’s ears pricked.
Alice sent Cora look of interest. “The journals arrived right before the Harvest Festival. But with everything that’s happened, and Angus being gone with the posse, Fergus has been run off his feet.
Mostly from hysteria-related ailments.” She pressed her lips into a firm line, and then sighed. “I sound so uncharitable.”
“You sound worn-out,” Cora said firmly. “You and the doctor both. And you must have struggled with your own fears about Dr. Angus.”
“Fergus kept saying not to imagine the worst. He must have told me that over and over a hundred times. Still, one can’t help but fret. Now the fear is over.” She sighed and brushed a stray tendril of hair out of her face. “I still don’t feel back on solid ground, though.”
“Understandable,” Cora murmured.
“Thank the Good Lord.” Alice gestured toward a hallway. “You’ll find the office, just down there to the left.”
Her heart beating rapidly, Cora made herself walk calmly down a wide hallway, lined with chairs against the walls and stood in the doorway to the office.
At his desk on the far side of the room, Dr. Cameron was in his shirtsleeves, reading what looked like a medical journal.
He’d propped his elbow on the desk, resting the side of his head on his palm, and his fingers raked through his red hair, making him look rumpled.
He was so engrossed in his reading, he didn’t appear to hear Cora’s entrance.
Before disturbing him, Cora took the time to glance around—to the two beds, the wall-to-wall cupboard with books and medical supplies and jars of different ointments and elixirs.
With approval, she noted everything looked clean and neat, with only the faintest smell of herbs in the air. She cleared her throat.
His head jerked up, and he gave her a quick study with his penetrating blue eyes, before standing and reaching for his coat. He shrugged it on and started to come around the corner of the desk. “What ails ye, lass?”
She waved for him to stop. “No need for formality in my case, Dr. Cameron. I’m in perfectly fine health. I came to talk to you.”
“Well, then…” He gestured toward one of the two wooden chairs in front of his desk and returned to his seat.
She took as calming a breath as her racing heart and tight corset would allow.
“In New York, I was training to be a nurse. Informally, that is. My father and stepmother didn’t approve.
I read medical books, volunteered at the local hospital, and sometimes at the foundling home.
Because the doctors and nurses trusted me and knew of my ambitions, when time permitted, they went out of their way to teach me procedures and treatments.
I didn’t just mop floors and carry slop pails. ”
As she talked, the doctor sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. Then he proceeded to ask her questions, quizzing her to ascertain her knowledge and proficiency.
Her stomach tight, Cora did her best to respond truthfully, detailing what she did know and had experience with, and also admitting when she lacked knowledge. He kept his expression bland, but interested, only nodding occasionally, so she had no idea what kind of impression she was making.
Finally, he lowered his hand and sat up. “I think ye might just have been sent by God to help me out, although I’m not quite sure how we’d do this.” Like his wife, the doctor had a faint Scottish accent. “I’ll have to think on the idea.”
Relief spread through her.
“My Alice is expecting our second child. We’re over the moon, of course.”
“Congratulations,” she murmured.
“Craig, our first, was a surprise after ten barren years when we’d long given up hope. We never dreamed to have another. We certainly never expected her to quicken so soon. Craig’s not even two.”
“Sounds like two miracle babies.”
He grinned and nodded, showing crooked teeth, before sobering.
“This pregnancy is harder on her. This week in particular has been difficult. She’s tired.
She has morning sickness, which she didn’t have with our first. Our Craig is an active bairn, keeping her, and me when I’m not busy with patients, on our toes.
We have a housemaid, who helps out with our son and also cooks and such.
But Alice has always been my nurse and insists on continuing.
And frankly, there’s times when I have sore need of her.
I’ve been fretting about her not getting enough rest, having too much to do… .”