and closed the remaining twenty feet between them. He glowered down at her, but couldn’t remember what he meant to say.
Good grief. He was thirty-two years old and acting like Burns, simply because a woman—a very young woman—had smiled at him. Why, she couldn’t be much older than Burns.
His insides churned at his stupidity.
“I told you not to give him any of your superstitious concoctions.” His frustration made him speak more harshly then he meant to. He dropped to his knees, flipped open his bag and reached for the laudanum to provide the man pain relief. Then he realized his patient rested quietly. No complaint of pain. No retching. “What did you give him?” He checked the man’s pulse and reactions, but apart from being comfortable, he detected nothing amiss.
His patient opened his eyes and focused on Jacob. “Hi, you must be the doctor. Teena here told me how you sewed me up without me feeling a thing.”
Teena. For some reason, the name suited her. She seemed keenly interested in medicine. If only she would agree to abandon her old-fashioned ways, based on superstition and tradition rather than science, he might consider training her as a nurse. But she’d been very clear she didn’t intend to. He did his best to ignore her, and instead spoke to his patient. “What’s your name?”
“Donald Freed. Thanks for fixing me up, Doc.”
“Did this woman give you something?”
Donald’s smile was mellow to say the least. “Whatever it was, it took away the pain.”
Anger roared through Jacob like a raging storm, destroying everything in its path. His brother had died not far from here, with a native caring for him. If Aaron had received proper medical care he would likely still be alive. Instead he’d been deprived of modern medicine, and worse, poisoned. He jolted to his feet and grabbed the young woman by the arm. “What did you give him?”
Her eyes widened but she showed no fear. Perhaps it was compassion filling her expression with such warmth.
Ashamed of his behavior, he dropped her arm and stepped back. “Tell me what it is so I can know how to counteract it.” He feared the ignorant cures of these people would poison Donald as it had Aaron. “Tell me before it makes him sick.”
Teena smiled, gentle and reproving. “It is only all-heal root. It will not make him sick. It will make him comfortable. Happy.”
“Doc, I feel great. Happy, like she says.”
Who knew what Teena had fed the man? Or the consequence. Frustration twisted with Jacob’s anger. How was he to combat ignorance if men like this encouraged it? His only hope was to insist Teena stay away from the clinic. He leaned closer to Teena, making sure she heard and understood every word. “I want you to stay away from the sick people. I will treat them.”
She didn’t move an inch. Her eyes didn’t so much as flicker. “You need my help. I need yours. I have prayed for a chance to learn the white man’s ways of healing. You will help me and I will help you.”
“Not in this lifetime,” he vowed.
She smiled and calmly walked away. “We will see each other again.”
He groaned. Was this some kind of punishment for an unknown omission of his? Was God testing him to see if he would falter?
I will not fail in keeping my word to Mother. I will do my best to bring proper care to these people who are seeking their fortune in gold. Then I will return to my pleasant life in Seattle.
His resolve strengthened, he again checked Donald, who rested comfortably. Then he pulled out paper and pencil and started a list of what he needed.
A little while later he entered the general store and spoke to Mack Tanner. “I’ll need these supplies to build the clinic. And I need to hire someone to construct it for me.”
Mack was the founder and mayor of the town. He had strict regulations against saloons and dance halls. He’d built a church in the center of town to signify that, in this place, God was honored. Knowing Treasure Creek was established on moral principles had been the reason Jacob had chosen this particular location to set up a new practice. Plus, the letter informing them of Aaron’s death had stated that Aaron was buried here.
Mack took the list and nodded. “I have the building material at hand. I’ll have it delivered to the site.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“As to someone to do the work…” He shook his head. “Most people are trying to get to the gold fields. Now, if you’ve no objection to a woman doing it…?” He let the unspoken question dangle in the air.
Jacob could think of no reason to care who did the construction and said so.
“Then I’ll ask the Tucker sisters to help you. They’re kind of jacks-of-all-trades.”
“Fine. The sooner the better. It’s hard to provide adequate care out in the open.”
“For sure. How about a tent for now? In case it rains.” He glanced out the window. “Which it’s bound to do soon.”
“That would help.” A short time later, he left with the promise of delivery of tent, lumber and other supplies, though much of what he needed in the way of supplies had to be ordered, with no assurance of when they’d arrive.
He hurried back to the place where his clinic would soon stand. Two men brought over the tent and erected it and helped him move Donald under its shelter, then delivered the lumber, and the news that the misses Tucker would show up in the morning. Despite the urgency he felt, he understood this was the most he could hope for. Soon he would offer adequate medical assistance. No longer would the injured and ill have to depend on superstitious claptrap.
He smiled as he recalled Teena’s quiet stubbornness. She would soon learn she was no match for his determination. And why that should make him chuckle he was at a loss to understand.
He looked into his cup of coffee. Had she secretly poured in some kind of native drug that would make him anticipate a duel of wills with a native?
Snorting at his foolishness, he tossed the rest of the coffee into the dirt.
Chapter Two
At the sound of voices close to his head, Jacob was instantly awake and paused to orientate himself. He’d slept on the ground, softened by furs Mack had sent him. Burns had returned about 11:00 p.m., all wound up because it stayed light so late.
“A person never needs to go to bed.”
“You’ll want to sleep sometime.” Jacob wasn’t sure he’d ever been so enthused about staying up all night. Or so eager to experience life.
He glanced across to where Burns had thrown himself down on his own soft fur and lay snoring gently, his arms outflung like a baby. He didn’t look as if he meant to leave his bed in search of adventure for several more hours.
Jacob smiled, a feeling of affection and protectiveness warming his insides. He’d grown fond of the boy. Perhaps Burns reminded him in a small way of Aaron—young, naive, so certain adventure carried no risks. Maybe
