like to write to Dr. Zeiss about your sister.”
Tears welled in Emmeline’s eyes. “I’d be grateful if you would, but I’m afraid to hope.”
“I’m not.” Nora thought of her little brother. “What scares me is doing nothing.”
Emmeline turned back to the inside of the building. Instead of focusing on Nora, she scanned the glass on the floor and the dirty walls. “Zeb doesn’t expect you to practice here, does he?”
Nora looked at the mess with Emmeline. “He doesn’t expect me to practice anywhere. If he has his way, I’ll leave tomorrow with the Crandalls.”
“He refused to hire you?” Emmeline’s brows shot up. “That’s just plain stupid! I don’t care if you’re a woman. This town needs a doctor. And Bess—”
Nora held up her hand. “I’m not leaving. He agreed to a one-month trial, but there’s a catch. I have to find my own office.”
“Maybe Will can help.” Her cheeks turned a pretty pink. “He’s my husband.”
“I’d appreciate anything he could do.”
“I’ll speak to him,” Emmeline said. “But there’s something else I have to say.”
“Of course.” Nora appreciated frank talk.
Emmeline paused to measure her words. “Zeb’s not a bad person. He’s just…troubled.”
“I’d have said prejudiced.”
“Maybe,” Emmeline replied. “Mostly he blames himself for what happened after the storm. Doc did his best, but he couldn’t keep up and people died. If Zeb had found a new doctor sooner, lives might have been saved.”
Nora understood guilt. She felt responsible every time she losta patient until she remembered only God had the power to give and take life. She thought of Zeb Garrison’s eyes, the same color as the broken glass on the floor, and she wondered if his bitterness ran deeper. “Did he lose someone special in the tornado?”
“No,” Emmeline said. “But he lost someone in Boston.”
A wife? Was he a widower? Nora’s heart clenched for him. “Please, give him my condolences.”
“Oh, no!” Emmeline corrected herself. “It’s nothing like that.”
Then what is it? Nora wanted to know more, but she couldn’t ask without being guilty of gossip.
The brunette shook her head. “I’m talking too much. It’s just that I like Zeb. He can be difficult, but deep down he’s a good man.”
Nora gave a wry smile. “Considering the deal we negotiated, I’d say he’s a bit of a scoundrel.”
Emmeline grinned. “He is, but in a good way.”
A good scoundrel? Nora had seen the two sides of the man for herself. His prejudice toward women annoyed her, but he cared deeply about High Plains. Beneath his arrogant gaze, she’d seen suffering. Instead of disliking him, she found herself worrying about him. Not wise, she told herself. She had a practice to build and people who needed her, including a girl who couldn’t speak. She didn’t have time to worry about a man who was determined to dislike her. She decided to change the subject.
“I’ll write to Dr. Zeiss tonight,” she said to Emmeline.
“I’d be grateful. We’ll pay you, of course.”
As much as Nora needed patients, she couldn’t charge the Logans. She had an interest in psychiatry, but she didn’t have the expertise to consider Bess a patient. Helping the girl was an act of friendship. “Bess’s situation is unique,” she said. “There’s no charge.”
“But—”
“I insist.” Nora never took money from her friends. “When can I visit with her?”
“Anytime,” Emmeline answered. “She helps Rebecca at the boardinghouse. You’re staying there, aren’t you?”
Nora recalled Mr. Garrison’s original plan for room and board. “It’s my new home.”
“Then you’ll see a lot of her. I’m glad you’re here, Dr. Mitchell.” Emmeline held out her hand. “Welcome to High Plains.”
Nora gripped Emmeline’s hand in both of hers. “I’m Nora, remember?”
“How about Dr. Nora? I like how that sounds.”
“So do I.” She beamed a smile.
As
Tears welled in Emmeline’s eyes. “I’d be grateful if you would, but I’m afraid to hope.”
“I’m not.” Nora thought of her little brother. “What scares me is doing nothing.”
Emmeline turned back to the inside of the building. Instead of focusing on Nora, she scanned the glass on the floor and the dirty walls. “Zeb doesn’t expect you to practice here, does he?”
Nora looked at the mess with Emmeline. “He doesn’t expect me to practice anywhere. If he has his way, I’ll leave tomorrow with the Crandalls.”
“He refused to hire you?” Emmeline’s brows shot up. “That’s just plain stupid! I don’t care if you’re a woman. This town needs a doctor. And Bess—”
Nora held up her hand. “I’m not leaving. He agreed to a one-month trial, but there’s a catch. I have to find my own office.”
“Maybe Will can help.” Her cheeks turned a pretty pink. “He’s my husband.”
“I’d appreciate anything he could do.”
“I’ll speak to him,” Emmeline said. “But there’s something else I have to say.”
“Of course.” Nora appreciated frank talk.
Emmeline paused to measure her words. “Zeb’s not a bad person. He’s just…troubled.”
“I’d have said prejudiced.”
“Maybe,” Emmeline replied. “Mostly he blames himself for what happened after the storm. Doc did his best, but he couldn’t keep up and people died. If Zeb had found a new doctor sooner, lives might have been saved.”
Nora understood guilt. She felt responsible every time she losta patient until she remembered only God had the power to give and take life. She thought of Zeb Garrison’s eyes, the same color as the broken glass on the floor, and she wondered if his bitterness ran deeper. “Did he lose someone special in the tornado?”
“No,” Emmeline said. “But he lost someone in Boston.”
A wife? Was he a widower? Nora’s heart clenched for him. “Please, give him my condolences.”
“Oh, no!” Emmeline corrected herself. “It’s nothing like that.”
Then what is it? Nora wanted to know more, but she couldn’t ask without being guilty of gossip.
The brunette shook her head. “I’m talking too much. It’s just that I like Zeb. He can be difficult, but deep down he’s a good man.”
Nora gave a wry smile. “Considering the deal we negotiated, I’d say he’s a bit of a scoundrel.”
Emmeline grinned. “He is, but in a good way.”
A good scoundrel? Nora had seen the two sides of the man for herself. His prejudice toward women annoyed her, but he cared deeply about High Plains. Beneath his arrogant gaze, she’d seen suffering. Instead of disliking him, she found herself worrying about him. Not wise, she told herself. She had a practice to build and people who needed her, including a girl who couldn’t speak. She didn’t have time to worry about a man who was determined to dislike her. She decided to change the subject.
“I’ll write to Dr. Zeiss tonight,” she said to Emmeline.
“I’d be grateful. We’ll pay you, of course.”
As much as Nora needed patients, she couldn’t charge the Logans. She had an interest in psychiatry, but she didn’t have the expertise to consider Bess a patient. Helping the girl was an act of friendship. “Bess’s situation is unique,” she said. “There’s no charge.”
“But—”
“I insist.” Nora never took money from her friends. “When can I visit with her?”
“Anytime,” Emmeline answered. “She helps Rebecca at the boardinghouse. You’re staying there, aren’t you?”
Nora recalled Mr. Garrison’s original plan for room and board. “It’s my new home.”
“Then you’ll see a lot of her. I’m glad you’re here, Dr. Mitchell.” Emmeline held out her hand. “Welcome to High Plains.”
Nora gripped Emmeline’s hand in both of hers. “I’m Nora, remember?”
“How about Dr. Nora? I like how that sounds.”
“So do I.” She beamed a smile.
As
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