stove.
“April girl! What are you doing up so early?”
After helping herself to a piece of sausage, April licked her fingers. “I wanted to get an early start.”
“Well, breakfast is ready.” Datha dished up three steaming hotcakes on a plate. “Sit down. I’ll pour the milk.”
It was just past seven when April left the house. On her way to Ludwig’s Pharmacy she smiled at Fred Loyal, who was busily sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store, and called a greeting to Miss Thompson, the dressmaker and milliner.
Neldene Anderson was just unlocking the schoolhouse as Reverend Brown meandered slowly down the sidewalk, obviously rehearsing his Sunday sermon.
Crossing the street, April spotted Gray Fuller’s office, and started a slow burn.
Dr. Grayson Fuller, General Practitioner, the script on the window read.
It should have read Dr. Busybody.
A pulled shade prevented curious passersby from looking in to see who might be seeking the doctor’s advice.
April hurried past, determined to avoid a confrontation with him. It was early, and chances were he wasn’t up yet.
Righteous indignation caused her cheeks to heat when she thought of what he’d done. The nerve of the man going straight to Grandpa, as if what she did was any of his concern!
Walking faster, she told herself to settle down. If his actions at the women’s meeting were any indication, he’d want her to confront him, so he could tell her how foolish and misguided she was for working with the Pinkhams.
Well, just let him try to tell her anything. She walked faster. She’d give him a well-deserved piece of her mind!
Prompted by a sudden urge to throttle him, she stopped dead in her tracks, whirled around and started back. She could not let him get away with this. Other women might overlook his antagonistic attitude, but not April.
To her surprise, the door of his office opened easily, and she stepped inside.
The interior was freshly painted, but the furnishings were deplorable. A wooden coat rack stood in a corner. Hanging on it was the strangest hat she’d ever seen.
A medicinal scent and some other substance she couldn’t identify were strong in the air.
The door to the examining room was closed, so she sat down on one of the half-dozen straight-back wooden chairs scattered throughout the room.
Tapping her fingers together, she waited.
She wasn’t at all certain what she was going to say to him, but she would give him a piece of her mind. Someone needed to put him in his place, so it might as well be her. If he thought his good looks and arrogant manner could intimidate her, he was wrong.
The moments stretched. There were no sounds coming from behind the closed door.
He’s probably in there asleep, she thought, and considered getting up and shutting the door again, with a loud slam.
Drumming her fingers, she shifted her gaze to the strange-looking hat on the coat rack.
Pfft, she thought. His, no doubt.
She studied the odd hat a moment or two, then curiosity drove her to get up and examine it more closely.
Silliest-looking hat she’d ever seen in her life. No brim. No shape to the crown. Just round and flat. What would possess a man to buy such a frivolous thing? She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Why, it looked like a navy-blue, oversized pillbox!
Glancing up, she focused on the closed door of the examining room. Maybe it belonged to his patient.
No.
No self-respecting man in Dignity would be caught dead in this, nor anyone from Dallas, for that matter.
On impulse, April stepped in front of the small, gilt-framed mirror on the wall and removed her hat. Perching the foolish-looking thing on her head, she studied her reflection. The hat teetered atop her curls like a loose cap on a medicine bottle.
Utterly ridiculous.
Turning it first one way, then another, she laughed out loud at the picture she presented. Wouldn’t you know that he’d wear something this absurd? Why, if the local men saw him, he’d be run out of town on a rail—
“Can I help you?”
“Oh!” She jumped, sending the ludicrous hat flying.
Dr. Fuller stood in the doorway, staring at her as she scrambled to pick it up off the floor.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
His gaze slowly traveled the length of her sprigged cotton dress. For some insane reason, she was glad she had worn blue this morning. Henry said it was most becoming to her.
“It’s you—the woman who sells Pinkham’s compound?”
“You know very well who I am, Doctor.” How dare he play innocent with her! Did he think he could tell Grandpa about her activities and expect her to roll over and play dead?
His implacable expression showed no indication of betrayal. “Do you want something?”
She did, but his unexpected appearance drove all thoughts from her mind. There he stood, leaning against the door frame as if he’d been there all the while observing her. His jacket was off, his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders in a distracting fashion. His hair was mussed, as if he’d run his fingers through it.
Studying her with heavy-lidded eyes, he waited.
What was it about this man that made rational women lose their minds? It was infuriating, that’s what it was. Simply infuriating.
When she realized he was waiting for her to state her business, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Is this your hat?”
His gaze was unwavering. “Yes.”
A smug smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “I thought so.”
She hung the hat back on the rack, embarrassed that he’d caught her making fun of it. Now what she had to say to him wouldn’t carry the same impact.
“Is there something you wanted?” His eyes refused to leave her, bringing a rush of color to her cheeks. “Other than to make fun of my hat?”
“Actually, I’m here on a personal matter.” She adjusted her dress, repositioned her own hat on her head, then smoothed the sides of her hair, trying to bolster her courage. She hated confrontations, but this man inspired them. She could not, would not, allow him to think he could interfere in her life and get away with it.
Awareness dawned in his eyes, and he straightened. “Oh…I see. Step into the examining room, please.”
She didn’t have all day, and this wasn’t a social visit.
