“Such as rifles, maybe? Look, if you think I’m going to allow you to run around the country all alone in your new carriage, you’re deeply mistaken. Dad, I wish you’d asked me about this. Giving her freedom is like letting a self-destructive tornado loose. She’ll run off on one case after another and end up getting herself killed.”
“And I guess you’re so much better,” she said, looking down at him from the seat. “You walk into range wars. At least, I went into the thing not knowing what it was.”
“That’s worse,” Lee said. “All someone has to say is that he needs help, and you’re off. You have no sense of taking care of yourself. Look at what happened with the gang that kidnapped you. You jumped on the horse with the man and didn’t even ask where he was taking you.”
“Wait a minute,” Reed said, and there was laughter in his voice. “I guess I didn’t think of any of that. Maybe I learned with you, Lee, that I couldn’t stop you from doing whatever you wanted to do. Maybe Blair’s like you.”
“She has no sense about what’s safe for her to do,” Lee said sullenly.
“And you do?” Reed’s eyes bored into his son’s.
Blair watched them, and she was further convinced that Lee was doing something dangerous, but she was sure that it was something that would eventually help other people.
Reed glanced at the brown horse that was hitched to the buggy. “I’ve sent for an appaloosa like Lee’s, but the horse hasn’t come yet. I thought you’d want to be recognized like Lee is.”
“They’re going to recognize her because I will be beside her,” Lee said with determination.
Blair didn’t answer that, but merely gave him a little smile with lifted eyebrows that made her think he was going to jump into the seat with her—and she didn’t like to think what he was going to do to her.
Reed let out a loud laugh and hit his son roughly on the shoulder. “I hope she leads you a chase as hard as the one you led your mother and me. Maybe you’ll understand some of what we went through.” He put his hand up to help Blair down. “Did I ever tell you about the time Lee exchanged the rat poison in the attic for bread crumbs? We had every rat in my wife’s hometown in our house before we found out what was going on.”
“No, you didn’t,” she said, looking up at Lee’s back as they entered the clinic. “And I certainly would like to hear more.”
Chapter 28
Blair and Leander had been married only a couple of weeks when the Westfield Clinic was officially opened. Of course, she hadn’t finished her internship, but both she and Lee knew it was only a formality. Blair’d had years of practice in hospitals.
The day the clinic opened, Blair was so nervous she spilled her coffee and dropped her corn muffin on the dining room floor. Guiltily, she grabbed the muff
in and glanced toward the door to the kitchen.
Lee put his hand over hers. “She doesn’t bite, you know.”
“Maybe she won’t bite you, but I’m not so sure about me.” Days ago, the housekeeper-cook Houston’d hired had come to their house and Blair found her to be a formidable woman: a tiny body with stiff steel-gray hair, hard black eyes, and a little slash of a mouth. Mrs. Shainess barely came up to Blair’s shoulder, but whenever she entered the room, Blair stiffened. The little woman made Blair feel clumsy and unsure of herself. The first day she’d arrived, she’d gone through Blair’s small wardrobe, saying tersely that she was looking for garments that needed repairing or cleaning. She’d sighed as she’d handled Blair’s few pieces of clothing, and for hours later, the house smelled of chemicals as the woman cleaned those clothes.
That night, when Blair and Lee returned from the hospital, Mrs. Shainess drew him aside for a private discussion. Afterward, with a smile, Lee told Blair that Mrs. Shainess did not think she had a wardrobe befitting a lady and that Blair was to see Houston’s dressmaker tomorrow.
Blair tried to protest, but Lee would not listen. She was worried enough as it was that Lee was in debt without her adding to his expenses. So, the next day, when she went to the dressmaker’s, she planned to order very, very little, but she found that Lee had already called and ordered twice as much as Blair thought she’d ever need. Still, she couldn’t help being pleased by the beautiful clothing, and she drove home quickly in her new carriage, planning to thank him in the best way she knew how.
But when she entered the drawing room, Lee was engrossed in a letter he held—and when Blair came into the room, he crumpled it, struck a match to it and burned it in the fireplace.
Blair didn’t ask him about the letter because she didn’t want to hear him tell her again that she wouldn’t understand. All her enthusiasm about the new clothes left her, and she spent the evening trying to come up with rational explanations for Lee’s actions: he was helping someone; he needed money; he was a criminal; he was a Pinkerton agent.
At night, they made love slowly and Blair clung to Lee. She was getting to the point that she didn’t care what he was doing. He could secretly own all the gambling houses on River Street and she wasn’t sure it would matter to her.
On the first day that the Westfield Clinic was officially open, Lee was called away to help at the Windlass Mine, where the end of a tunnel had collapsed. Blair wanted to go with him, but he sent her off to the clinic to help the needy patients.
When she opened the door at eight that morning, Lee’s nurse, Mrs. Krebbs, and three patients were already waiting. Mrs. Krebbs, as cool as ever, nodded slightly to Blair and went to the surgery to check the supplies and instruments.
“This way,” Blair said, guiding her first patient into the examining room.
“Where’s the doctor?” the woman asked, clutching her handbag to her bosom, as if someone meant to steal it.
“I am a doctor. Now, if you’ll have a seat and tell me what’s wrong, I’ll—.”
“I want a real doctor,” the woman said, backing against the door.
“I assure you that I am a certified doctor. If you’ll just tell me—.”