the brunette headed for the door, Nora followed her outside to the boardwalk. The ping of hammers pulled her attention to the half-finished building across the street. Judging by the size and location, she was looking at the new town hall, a building Mr. Crandall had described during the trip.
Two men stood on scaffolding about six feet apart, each holding the end of a board and nailing it in place. A third man stood below them, shouting instructions over the racket. She recognized Zeb Garrison and felt the low beat of anger in her pulse. She could tolerate his rudeness. It came with being a woman in a man’s world. But how could he justify running her out of town? High Plains desperately needed a doctor. With the construction, men were sure to have accidents. Emmeline Logan had recently married. God willing, she and her husband would start a family of their own. And Bess…who would help her speak again?
The more Nora thought about Bess and Emmeline, the hotter her blood ran. Instead of treating her like a quack, ZebGarrison should have been helping her find a suitable office. He deserved an earful, but she couldn’t escape the memory of her father’s voice.
Before you speak your mind, daughter, count to ten. If that doesn’t settle you down, count to a hundred.
The harder she tried to calm herself, the angrier she became. Emmeline saw the good in him, but Nora saw the arrogance. “Help me, Lord,” she murmured. “I don’t want to turn the other cheek. I want to tell that arrogant, self-righteous scoundrel what I think of him.” She wanted to fight. She wanted—
Before she could finish the thought, he turned and caught her staring. He smirked. Furious, Nora started to count. “Ten, nine…Forget it!”
With her temper flaring, she headed across the street to give Zeb Garrison a piece of her mind.
Chapter Five
Z eb saw Dr. Mitchell coming straight at him and felt the uncomfortable urge to run away. He enjoyed a good fight as much as any man, but he didn’t want to argue with her. A few moments ago, Will had taken him to task.
You showed her Doc’s place? Are you stupid?
No, just hopping mad. She’d tricked him by using her initial, then she’d had the audacity to be poised and pretty about it. Why couldn’t she have had warts on her chin…warts with hairs growing out of them? Warts so ugly he wouldn’t keep smelling lavender and recalling her hand on his arm and the kindness in her blue eyes.
He’d argued with Will for two minutes and ended up feeling like an oaf.
We need a doctor, Zeb. I don’t care if he—she—whatever—is wearing skirts. I’ve got a family now. So does Pete.
Where am I supposed to put her? She can’t work in my parlor!
So find someplace else. We help each other in High Plains. Have you forgotten that? It’s called Christian charity.
Will was right. The town needed Dr. Mitchell until he couldfind a replacement. And whether he liked it or not, he owed her amends for his surliness.
Tom Briggs, his foreman, called down from the scaffolding. “More lumber tomorrow, boss?”
“Plan on it.”
“Good.” Tom’s hammer pinged on a nail. “We’re about out.”
The demand for lumber kept Garrison Mill running from dawn to dusk and Zeb looking at ledgers well past midnight. Folks chipped in what money they could spare, but Zeb cheerfully absorbed most of the costs. He could afford it and others couldn’t. With good weather and a little luck, the town hall would be finished and High Plains would celebrate a full recovery with a summer jubilee. If he had to work like a mule to make it happen, so be it. He didn’t have time to eat or sleep, much less deal with Dr. Mitchell, but she was coming at him like a summer storm.
“Mr. Garrison!” she called. “I need a word with you.”
He did not want to have this conversation in front of a work crew, but he couldn’t avoid her without looking cowardly. “Get back to work,” he said to the man. The hammering resumed,
Two men stood on scaffolding about six feet apart, each holding the end of a board and nailing it in place. A third man stood below them, shouting instructions over the racket. She recognized Zeb Garrison and felt the low beat of anger in her pulse. She could tolerate his rudeness. It came with being a woman in a man’s world. But how could he justify running her out of town? High Plains desperately needed a doctor. With the construction, men were sure to have accidents. Emmeline Logan had recently married. God willing, she and her husband would start a family of their own. And Bess…who would help her speak again?
The more Nora thought about Bess and Emmeline, the hotter her blood ran. Instead of treating her like a quack, ZebGarrison should have been helping her find a suitable office. He deserved an earful, but she couldn’t escape the memory of her father’s voice.
Before you speak your mind, daughter, count to ten. If that doesn’t settle you down, count to a hundred.
The harder she tried to calm herself, the angrier she became. Emmeline saw the good in him, but Nora saw the arrogance. “Help me, Lord,” she murmured. “I don’t want to turn the other cheek. I want to tell that arrogant, self-righteous scoundrel what I think of him.” She wanted to fight. She wanted—
Before she could finish the thought, he turned and caught her staring. He smirked. Furious, Nora started to count. “Ten, nine…Forget it!”
With her temper flaring, she headed across the street to give Zeb Garrison a piece of her mind.
Chapter Five
Z eb saw Dr. Mitchell coming straight at him and felt the uncomfortable urge to run away. He enjoyed a good fight as much as any man, but he didn’t want to argue with her. A few moments ago, Will had taken him to task.
You showed her Doc’s place? Are you stupid?
No, just hopping mad. She’d tricked him by using her initial, then she’d had the audacity to be poised and pretty about it. Why couldn’t she have had warts on her chin…warts with hairs growing out of them? Warts so ugly he wouldn’t keep smelling lavender and recalling her hand on his arm and the kindness in her blue eyes.
He’d argued with Will for two minutes and ended up feeling like an oaf.
We need a doctor, Zeb. I don’t care if he—she—whatever—is wearing skirts. I’ve got a family now. So does Pete.
Where am I supposed to put her? She can’t work in my parlor!
So find someplace else. We help each other in High Plains. Have you forgotten that? It’s called Christian charity.
Will was right. The town needed Dr. Mitchell until he couldfind a replacement. And whether he liked it or not, he owed her amends for his surliness.
Tom Briggs, his foreman, called down from the scaffolding. “More lumber tomorrow, boss?”
“Plan on it.”
“Good.” Tom’s hammer pinged on a nail. “We’re about out.”
The demand for lumber kept Garrison Mill running from dawn to dusk and Zeb looking at ledgers well past midnight. Folks chipped in what money they could spare, but Zeb cheerfully absorbed most of the costs. He could afford it and others couldn’t. With good weather and a little luck, the town hall would be finished and High Plains would celebrate a full recovery with a summer jubilee. If he had to work like a mule to make it happen, so be it. He didn’t have time to eat or sleep, much less deal with Dr. Mitchell, but she was coming at him like a summer storm.
“Mr. Garrison!” she called. “I need a word with you.”
He did not want to have this conversation in front of a work crew, but he couldn’t avoid her without looking cowardly. “Get back to work,” he said to the man. The hammering resumed,
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