Page 72 of The Formation of Us
“Then I’m surprised you advised Sheriff Grayson not to use his arm until his shoulder injury healed. Surely you could see that his deltoid, triceps, and biceps muscles were shrinking and growing stiff. By the time the sheriff asked for my help, he could barely lift his arm as high as his shoulder.”
“Are you suggesting that your treatment has improved his condition?”
“She doesn’t have to suggest, Doc. See for yourself,” Duke said, lifting his fist above his head.
They had made progress in the five weeks she’d been treating him, but his range of motion was still restricted by shrunken, tender muscles, and it would take several more weeks to completely free up his arm. For him to lift his arm like that had to be unbearably painful. His jaw was clenched, but he stared at the surprised doctor and lowered his arm without a single grunt of pain.
“There’s your proof. Her business is a nice addition to the healing arts in this town.”
The doctor was silenced, but Archer scoffed. “Sheriff, I realize Mrs. Wilkins is your companion, but you go too far defending someone who dallies in medicine without proper education.”
Faith feared Duke was going to throttle Archer, but he shocked her by grinning. “Are you threatened, Archer?”
“Only by the trouble we’ve been having with those swindlers and thieves you’ve been letting run loose.”
The doctor pushed away from the table. “Excuse me, gentlemen . . . Mrs. Wilkins, I’m in need of a cheroot and a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll join you,” Archer said, stepping away from the table. He stopped and scowled at Faith. “Your brother bought some glass vials from my store the other day. I would prefer that you come for the items yourself, as I’ve had some things come up missing of late.”
Duke shoved to his feet, but Faith caught his hand. “I’d like another dance if you don’t mind?” She stepped around the table, then faced Archer. “Rest assured no one in my family will visit your business again.”
Duke leaned close to the man, his voice low and controlled. “One rumor, Wayne, even one negative comment about Mrs. Wilkins or her family, and I’ll be knocking on your door. And it won’t be to make a purchase.”
He stepped around Archer and guided Faith down the steps. “I’m sorry,” she said as they crossed the yard. “I should have kept quiet.”
Duke looked at her with clear admiration. “You were amazing with the doctor.”
Relief washed through her, followed by a giddy sense of victory. “So were you,” she said. “How did you manage to raise your arm so high without screaming?”
“I knew it was the only way to keep my fist out of Milton’s arrogant mouth.”
“The doctorwasrather arrogant.”
“He was an ass.”
She smiled. “So was Archer. No wonder you don’t like the man.”
“I don’t dislike him or Doc Milton. They’ve both done good things for the community. Archer’s hoping that by discrediting me, it will get him the job as sheriff.”
“Why does he even want to be sheriff when he has his apothecary?”
Duke shrugged. “I don’t know. And I don’t care, as long as Taylor, Phelps, or I beats him. Archer would ruin our community”
“I’m glad you didn’t hit him. I would never want to cause you to fight.” And she prayed he would never have to. But Syracuse wasn’t that far away, and Judge Stone would never stop looking for her.
“It was Archer’s mouth that boiled my blood, not your comments. He glanced at the carriage house where the band was tuning up. “Did you want to dance?”
She shook her head. “Truthfully, I’d rather leave, but I suppose it would look bad.”
“Not if we slip away.” He guided her through the crowd of people scattered across the lawn, nodding to several guests but not stopping to speak them. When they reached the beverage table, he picked up two glasses of wine. “I’ll return the glasses tomorrow.”
“Are those for you?” she asked, wondering if this was a side of him he kept hidden. Iris said no one was perfect. What if he had a taste for alcohol?
“They’re for us.”
“You just warned me not to drink any more.”
“Because you were drinking it like punch.” He handed a glass to her. “Sip this one.”
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