father crossed to her, touched her arm, his hand freckled with age. “Yes, you do. You’ve always been a caring woman, but since you lost Sam, you’re on a mission to save the human race. Trouble is you’re not God. You don’t have the power to control this world, not even our little piece of it.”
Mary covered her father’s hand with her own. “I know that. But I worry about you.”
“Yes, and about the boys getting sick or hurt, about their schoolwork.” He gave her a weak grin. “Why, your worrying worries me, Mary Lynn. Remember the scripture that says we can’t add a day to our lives by worrying.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Forgive me, Lord, for not relying on You. Not trusting You. Give me the strength to change.
These past two years, widowed and raising her sons alone, and now Ben, hadn’t been easy, even with her brother-in-law pitching in with the heavier chores. The money she’d inherited from Sam’s father had made a huge difference, meant she might live her dream, but the added financial security hadn’t eased the constant knot in her shoulders. Hadn’t eased the loneliness. Hadn’t eased the empty space in her heart.
Not that Sam had filled it.
Trying to alleviate the tension of her thoughts, Mary tapped her father playfully on the arm. “Besides, the topic isn’t about me. It’s that traveling salesman. Don’t you find his claims upsetting?”
Her father sat beside her. “Most of those tonics and remedies are worthless, but until I give his a try, I can’t condemn it.”
Her father prided himself on being impartial, as if the past meant nothing. “Think about it, Daddy. How could just anyone concoct a remedy with real medicinal value?” She leaned toward him. “Can’t we do something to protect the town from a quack?”
Her father rubbed the back of his neck. “Does he have a permit?”
“Yes. He’s too cunning to be tripped up that easily.”
“Well, then there’s nothing to be done.”
As if on cue, they both rose. Her father put his arm around her shoulders and they walked into the surgery.
“Doesn’t it bother you that half the town owes you money and they’re squandering what they have on a worthless tonic? If you could collect, you’d have a nice little nest egg for retirement.”
His gaze roamed the room and then returned to her with a smile of satisfaction. “What I do here is important. I have no desire to retire.” Her father snorted. “Besides, I can’t leave this town with one less doctor.”
From the stubborn set of her father’s mouth, she could see her argument fell on deaf ears. “There’s got to be doctors from one of the Indianapolis medical schools who’d be interested in entering your practice.” She took his hand, bracing for his reaction. “I’m so sure of it that I put an advertisement in the Indianapolis News Journal. The ad should draw inquiries from graduates seeking an established practice.”
Her father’s mouth tightened, his displeasure at her actions unspoken but palpable.
Sudden tears stung Mary’s eyes. “I’m sorry you disapprove.”
He walked to the window and rolled up the blinds, letting in the morning sun. “You’ve already admitted there’s no money in doctoring here. That’s not going to draw many applicants. Besides, I’m doing exactly what I want to do. I know these people. Know their ailments, their struggles…their secrets.”
When they had troubles, the folks in this town turned to two people—their doctor and their pastor. She respected and admired her father and the preachers in town who had a knack for listening. Knew how to comfort, and knew how, when necessary, to admonish.
Henry Lawrence not only made a difference in people’s lives but he’d saved quite a few. He had a purpose she admired more than any other and wanted to follow. And once she was a doctor, she’d be dependent on no one.
Her father returned to her side and tweaked her cheek. “If you want to help and can find your way around that pigsty I call a kitchen, then please, darling daughter, make me some breakfast.”
Glad to be useful, Mary smiled. “It won’t take but a minute.”
He hugged her. “You’re like your mother. Susannah could make a feast out of an old shoe.”
Pleased by the comparison, Mary laughed. Even five years after her mother’s death, she missed Susannah Lawrence every day, wanted to be like her serene, unflappable mother. But failed. In her mother’s north-facing kitchen, the walls painted the hue of sunshine, Mary’s spirits lifted. Her mother always claimed she never had a gloomy day working here, but she’d surely be amazed by the condition of her workspace now.
Mary might not know how to fix the problems around her, but she knew what to do here. She donned one of her mother’s bibbed aprons and tackled the mess.
Once her advertisement brought in the ideal doctor to help in the practice, she could go to medical school, knowing someone young and capable would help her father oversee the health of his patients. That is, assuming she got accepted. No guarantee for anyone, especially a woman. Months had passed without word. At twenty-eight, would her age work against her?
She finished clearing a spot on the counter, washed it down and then poked around in the icebox, emerging with a slab of bacon and a bowl filled with eggs. Once she’d fed and helped her father with his patients, she’d complain to Sheriff Rogers about the dark-eyed stranger. Maybe he could find a way to retract the permit. Surely he didn’t want that swindler taking advantage of people’s worries.
Taking advantage of her.
Her hand stilled, and a wave of disquiet lapped at her. The dark stranger had thrown her off balance with that outrageous wink…but only for a moment.
She wouldn’t let that happen again.
Chapter Two
Luke Jacobs snapped the padlock into place on the back of his enclosed wagon and gave it a yank. The last straggler had gone about his day, leaving Luke alone, that meddling woman who’d opposed him heavy on his mind. He’d run into do-gooders like her before.
True, Miss Nightingale happened to be more attractive than most, with glinting green eyes, chestnut hair and a stubborn jaw—shoving into something she knew nothing about. A royal pain who fought what he’d worked hard to achieve.
The remedy stashed inside this wagon had taken him months to formulate. He’d spent untold hours experimenting in a small lab in his house, using himself to test his product. He took pride in what he’d accomplished. The remedy contained good medicine, meant to help people, not to separate them from their money.
That sassy woman probably wanted to drive him back to New York herself. Well, he had no intention of going. Not yet. Not until he learned if the boy lived here.
A band tightened around Luke’s throat, remembering the guilt and shame of his misspent life. If only he could go back and relive all those wasted years—
His eyes stung. Sin brought consequences. He’d gotten off scot-free. Lucy had paid with her life.
His
