The Doctor Takes a Wife (6 page)

She hesitated, but at last she said, “Ada's been keeping mostly to herself lately. She used to seem as carefree as any of us, but…that all changed after that Englishman came to town—the first man who was killed the day of the Comanche attack, remember?”

He nodded. Despite all the horrors Nolan had seen in the war, the image of the arrow-riddled, bloody figure slumping on his horse was a sight he'd never forget.

“They were courting,” Sarah said. “She stopped coming to the Spinsters' Club meetings once that began. Afterward, we all assumed she was grieving, but then…” Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip, looking away.

“Then?” he prompted.

“Forgive me, Doctor…Nolan…I, uh…thought that you—that is, the two of you—were…um…”

Her face was scarlet now, and he guessed what she had been thinking. It was exactly as he had feared, and he could guess Ada Spencer had given Sarah that impression.

“I'm not sure what you thought, exactly, Miss Sarah,” he said carefully, “but Miss Spencer is my
patient. Only
my patient.”

“I…I see.”

Did he imagine it, or did she appear slightly less distressed?

“She's going through a difficult time,” he said. “I think she's in need of friends, Miss Sarah. I know it's asking a lot, but would you perhaps be willing to…be a friend to her?”

H
e held his breath as he watched her eyes widen in surprise, but to his relief, he saw no immediate resistance there.

“You think she needs my friendship? What makes you think she would accept me as her friend after distancing herself all this time?”

“I don't know why anyone wouldn't be glad of your friendship, Miss Sarah. I know I am.” He locked his gaze with hers.

Her lashes dipped low over her eyes. “Thank you, but I'm not sure Ada would feel the same, given the way she's been acting lately. Perhaps you should approach Reverend Chadwick—”

“I thought about that, but I really think she needs to speak to another woman at least to begin with,” he said quickly. “All I'm asking is that you try.”

She was touched by his trust in her. “And you cannot say what is troubling her?”

He shook his head. “That'll have to come from her, if she chooses to take you into her confidence. If she
won't open up to you, perhaps she will to another of the ladies, but please use discretion in who you ask.”

Sarah studied him. “Why do you care so much about this?” she asked.

“Because I know what it's like to feel friendless.”

She looked as if she'd like to ask him more, but just then the bell over the entrance tinkled, announcing the arrival of another patient. The whimpers of a fretful child penetrated through the door between the waiting room and the inner office.

“Duty calls,” Sarah said with a wry smile, rising again. “I—I'll try to talk to Ada. And thank you for looking at my arm,” she added, formal once more.

“You're very welcome.” He placed the cake inside his rolltop desk and closed the cover over it. No sense giving anyone anything else to gossip about.

She opened the door, and Nolan saw that one of the young married women of the town stood in the waiting room, holding a red-faced, squirming toddler, while another child not much older clung to her skirts.

“Howdy, Sarah.”

“Lulabelle, looks like you've got your hands full,” Sarah observed.

The young mother gave her a flustered smile before turning to Nolan. “Doctor, Lee here stuck a black-eyed pea in his ear and I can't get it out nohow,” the exasperated mother told him.

“Well, bring him in, I'm sure we can remove it,” he said, but his eyes lingered on Sarah's graceful figure as she exited.

 

Because I know what it's like to be feel friendless.

His answer reverberated in her mind as she stepped
into the street. There were so very many things she wanted to know about him. Why would Nolan Walker ever have been friendless? He'd made friends effortlessly soon after arriving in town, and just look how easily he'd managed to talk her into being friends, if they could not be more than that. Had he meant the loneliness he'd felt when his wife and son had died?

She would have asked him if Lulabelle Harding hadn't brought her child in just then, and she still wanted to know. Perhaps she could ask him about it some other time. And he had never told her what he'd been doing in Brazos County during the time he had been corresponding with her—had he been assigned with federal occupying troops? He must have been. What other reason could he have had for being there?

Sarah had been surprised by Nolan's request that she try to be a friend to Ada. Thinking she should go talk to her now while the resolve was fresh in her mind, she started to turn down the road that led past the doctor's house to the home Ada shared with her parents, then hesitated. If she went there now, Ada would realize she had come straight from the doctor's office and guess that Nolan had put her up to it. She might even jump to the wrong conclusion that the doctor had violated her confidence. And Ada's parents would be there, which meant that she and Ada might not have any privacy to talk.

No, it was best that she encounter Ada casually in town, if possible. Perhaps she could talk to Milly about it? Milly always seemed to know everything about everyone around Simpson Creek, though she did not gossip. But if Sarah were to tell her that she
had reason to be concerned about Ada, Milly might have some insight about what could be troubling the woman. Perhaps she would think it was a simple matter of grief over Ada's slain beau and what to Ada had been a promising courtship cut tragically short. Milly and Sarah, however, had learned the truth about the man's character from Nick, who had known Harvey in India.

Sarah thought about riding out to the ranch. She'd love to see her sister, and inquire how she was doing now that the cooking chores were all up to her. Prissy's father had made it clear that Sarah was free to borrow a riding horse from the stable any time she desired.

She cast an eye at the sky. Gray clouds still hung over the western horizon, threatening rain, and by now it had to be nearly noon. By the time she walked back to the cottage, changed into her riding skirt, had Antonio, the Gilmores' servant, saddle a horse for her and rode out to the ranch, it would be midafternoon. And she still needed to stop into the mercantile and hotel restaurant and promise their respective proprietors that she would be baking again starting tomorrow, and Prissy had asked her to look at lighter curtain material for their main room… No, she would not go today.

But she could always pray about the matter, she realized, feeling guilty that she hadn't thought of that first. No matter when she spoke to Ada, it was best to do so after seeking heavenly guidance, not before. She needed to stop using prayer as a last resort, after she had exhausted all her own efforts, and think of it first.

Father, I'm concerned about Ada Spencer. I don't
know what's troubling her, but You do, Lord. Please help her to realize You are always with her, wanting to aid her. Help her to look to You for her needs. And please show me how to be a true friend to her…

She found a bolt of white dotted swiss in the mercantile that would be perfect for their curtains. While Mr. Patterson was wrapping it up, Mrs. Detwiler came in and made a beeline for Sarah.

“Hello, Sarah! Did you and the newlyweds have a nice Christmas? How do you liking living in town? Are you coming to the New Year's Day party at the Gilmores? Well, of course you are, you're living right on the grounds.”

Sarah had started to ask about the Detwilers' Christmas, but when the voluble older lady chattered right on as if she wasn't expecting a question in return, Sarah smiled and said, “Yes, we did, and yes, I am liking it and yes, of course I'll be at the party.”

“Good! I reckon you'll be on the arm of that fine Yankee doctor. My, you two made a handsome couple dancing at the wedding. You and he have probably been sparkin' ever since, haven't you?” she asked with a cackle of laughter.

Sarah felt herself flushing and shook her head. “No, Mrs. Detwiler, we're not courting. We just danced one dance together….”

“Not from any lack of ‘want to' on his part, I'll warrant. It was plain as the nose on my face. Now, don't you let one of your Spinsters' Club friends snatch up that fine man first,” she admonished, shaking a gnarled finger at Sarah. “You be like your sister—Milly knew a good thing when she saw it and she didn't dillydally
and let some other woman get close to that handsome Englishman a' hers!”

Sarah marveled inwardly, thinking how disapproving the older woman had been of Milly when she'd founded the Spinsters' Club, and how Nicholas had won her over. “Yes, ma'am, and perhaps when the right man comes along, I'll—”

“You might not recognize it when it happens. I didn't, when my George first started coming to call. You think again about that Dr. Walker, miss. I know what I'm talking about.”

“Yes ma'am,” Sarah said obediently. It never did any good to argue with Mrs. Detwiler.

When she reached home, she found Prissy stirring a pot over the kitchen stove, and upon inspection found her friend hadn't managed to burn the beef stew Prissy, with Sarah's help, had started simmering before Sarah left the cottage. “Mmm, that's going to be good,” Sarah said, sniffing the air.

Prissy grinned. “Perhaps there's hope for me yet.” She put down the large spoon. “Sarah, I've been thinking, why don't we invite someone over for supper sometime soon? Wouldn't that be fun?”

Sarah nodded, thinking this might be her opportunity. Prissy could be the very person to help the withdrawn woman open her heart. “How about Ada? She's been through a lot lately, and perhaps she'd be grateful for some company other than her parents—”

Prissy wrinkled her nose. “Sarah, Ada Spencer's been downright
odd
lately. Just the other day I waved hello to her from down the street and she turned and slunk off in the opposite direction. No, I meant someone
enjoyable to be around, like your sister and her husband. Or maybe we should invite a couple of the other ladies from the club—or all of them! Let's do it after New Year's Day.”

Sarah sighed inwardly. She was all for a dinner party, but this meant she was back where she started, needing to find an excuse to talk to Ada.

The next three days provided no opportunities, either. She didn't encounter the woman while delivering her baked goods, nor did Ada appear in church on the morning of New Year's Eve. It seemed Sarah would have to go to the Spencers' house after all. But now it would have to wait until after the Gilmores' party the next day, for she was going to be busy this Sunday afternoon helping Prissy and her parents get ready for the event.

 

“Dr. Walker, good of you to come,” the walrus-mustached rotund man said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year to you, Mayor Gilmore, Mrs. Gilmore,” Nolan said, smiling at him and his plump pigeon of a wife, fighting to keep his gaze directed politely on them while he longed to look over their heads for Sarah. “It was kind of you to invite me.”

“Of course, of course. Everyone in Simpson Creek comes to our open house on New Year's Day. It's a tradition, you know.”

Not only was all of Simpson Creek milling around in the elegantly appointed, brocade-wallpapered ballroom, it seemed as if half of the rest of San Saba County was, too, all of them dressed in their best finery. The scent
of rose and lavender water mingled with savory odors of food and the strains of music played by the fiddler.

“Please, help yourself to the some refreshments, sir,” Mrs. Gilmore said, gesturing at the overloaded table in the far corner of the room. And there his gaze found the woman he sought, for Sarah was standing next to a huge haunch of roast beef, slicing it for a handful of people who were lined up.

He headed in that direction, but he was intercepted midway across the room by half a dozen people, the last of whom was the mayor's daughter.

“My, aren't you looking handsome tonight, Dr. Walker,” Prissy said, her eyes sweeping over him admiringly. “Just wait till Sarah sees you.”

He was thankful he had two black frock coats, one for doctoring calls, the other kept for fancy occasions such as this, and that he'd had time to bathe and shave after delivering Mavis Hotchkiss's baby at a ranch west of town. “Why thank you, Miss Priscilla,” he said, “You're looking very fine yourself.”

She dimpled and fanned herself, then leaned close to sniff the air. “Thank you, sir.
Mmm,
and you
smell
quite handsome, too.”

He'd dabbed on some bay rum after he'd shaved. He'd hoped at the time that a certain lady would appreciate it…but his thoughts had been on Sarah, not Prissy. “Miss Priscilla, I didn't know it was possible to smell handsome,” he said, amused. “You must have a discerning nose, to be able to detect such a thing over the delicious scents wafting from the food table.”

“Oh, go on over there, you know you want to,” she
said, waving him on with a knowing wink. “Doesn't our Sarah look absolutely wonderful in red?”

He was glad that with Prissy, at least, he didn't have to pretend he wasn't longing to stand here and continue making small talk. “As you do in gold, Miss Priscilla,” he said. “Thanks.”

He crossed the remaining distance to the food table, and seeing that Sarah was still busy slicing beef for the guests in the line, took selections from the other dishes on the groaning board, for he had been at the delivery since dawn and hadn't eaten since the night before.

At last he came to the head of the line. “May I have some roast beef, Miss Sarah?”

She looked up from her carving tools. “Why, Nolan, I didn't see you come in. Happy New Year to you.”

May the new year bring about a change in your heart.
“Will you have to remain at carving table?” he asked. “I was hoping you could sit down and eat with me.” He gestured at the small tables scattered around the sides of the room.

“No, I'm only carving until Antonio can come back,” she said, “And here he comes now,” she said, indicating a liveried manservant approaching with a clove-studded ham. “So, yes, I can sit down and eat with you. As it happens, I've become very hungry, standing here watching the food go by.”

He waited while she selected some food, and then they found a vacant table not far from the door.

“I stopped at your cottage to see if I could escort you to the party, but no one answered,” he told Sarah when they had settled themselves.

“No, Prissy and I have been here since early morning, helping them get the food set out,” she told him.

“So I figured. Anyway, I left your cake plate and cover at your doorstep. Best cake I ever had,” he told her.

“Then you'll have to try my Neopolitan cake that's over on the dessert table to see if you still think so,” she said. “And be sure and try the pecan fruitcake Prissy made—please be sure and tell her it's delicious, for she needs confidence in her baking skills. Oh, there's Milly and Nick!” She waved at the couple who had just entered the ballroom.