Embers of Love by Tracie Peterson Page A

calm, folks just had to endure the smoke and soot put out by the sawmill chimneys.
    He ran a finger along the windowsill and shook his head at the collection of blackened dirt. He would have to figure out something that could be done. Perhaps if he tacked up material across the windows? It would have to have a very fine weave to hold out the damaging elements while still allowing fresh air. Wiping his finger on his already dirt-stained trousers, Christopher turned back to the job at hand.
    He was generally pleased with the arrangements Mr. Perkins had made. The man had built the facility to the doctor’s suggested specifications. While most of the houses here were of unfinished wood, the new doctor’s office and infirmary was a stark white. Christopher had made a firm requirement that everything be whitewashed for easy cleaning. It stood out in the tiny town just as Christopher had hoped it would.
    The front door opened into a small waiting area, and behind that was a private office that led into the examination room. Beyond the examination room was the infirmary. There were four cots and a washstand in this room, with a back entrance that allowed for easy access from the mill. The thought had been that should a terrible accident arise, it would allow for a wounded man to be brought in without making a scene.
    A side door off the infirmary led to Dr. Clayton’s private quarters. There he had a small kitchen, living room, and bedroom. It was nothing fancy, but neither did it need to be. Christopher was quite content.
    “Hello?” A knock followed the female voice.
    “I’m in the back,” he called in reply. He hoped fervently that it wouldn’t be a patient in need, for he wasn’t ready to set up shop just yet.
    Deborah Vandermark marched through the doorway with a plate extended in front of her. She looked rather like one of the wise men presenting his treasure to the Christ child. “I have come bearing a gift,” she announced.
    He smiled. “I can see that.”
    She returned his smile, and he very much liked the way it seemed to spark a fire in her dark brown eyes. “Mother made fresh doughnuts and instructed me to bring you a batch straightaway. I rode the train into town when they brought a load of wood.”
    He took the plate from her and put it on a nearby table. “Well, that was most kind of you. You will have to thank your mother for me.”
    “I will. It looks like I caught you at a bad time,” she said, glancing around the messy room. “Might I help? The train won’t be heading back for another hour.”
    “I couldn’t let you spend your day laboring over this mess.” He reached absentmindedly for one of the doughnuts and had it in his mouth almost before he realized it. The pastry practically melted on his tongue. “Oh, this is delicious.”
    Deborah turned and smiled. “My mother makes the best in the county.”
    “Along with biscuits?”
    She laughed. “And many other things. So what is all of this? If you don’t mind my asking.”
    “Not at all.” He moved to where she stood. “This box has medical supplies. I ordered them from Mr. Perkins. The next crate holds many of my personal books and medical journals, and the others . . . well, I haven’t opened them yet so I’m not exactly sure what they hold.”
    “I presume you will have an office?”
    He nodded. “The small room you came through on your way back here – the one with the bookshelves – will be my office. This is the examination room. Through that door over there is the infirmary, where I can care for long-term patients. Mr. Perkins had the entire structure built according to my suggestions.”
    “And are you pleased?”
    “Very much so. Mr. Perkins also ordered the equipment I asked for. I was rather surprised to find most everything waiting and ready. He even managed to get this examination table for me.” Christopher put his hand to the metal table.
    Deborah reached into the crate of books. “Why don’t I start by