The Alaska Brides Collection Part 52

Fiona had almost decided she was ready when she stumbled upon a shelf containing sealskin boots. Front and center were a pair of boots identical to the ones hiding in the back of her closet.

She ran her hand over the soft fur and closed her eyes. The smell of fresh air and freshly cleaned fish a.s.saulted her nose and made her smile. Sunday afternoons at the river rolled past in quick succession.

When the action stopped on the day she first saw Elizabeth's face, she opened her eyes. To her shock, there stood Elizabeth herself. Her heart jumped into her throat, and Fiona gasped.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Rafferty. I didn't mean to frighten you."

The young woman from yesterday leaned against a pile of blankets, not some ghost from eighteen years past. Fiona shook her head and let out a long breath.

"How are you, Grace?" Fiona glanced up at the Regulator clock situated over the handguns and ammunition counter. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"I am furthering my education," she said a bit too defensively. "I came to see if you're willing to take me on as a student."

Fiona took the girl's elbow and led her away from the memories. "Whatever are you talking about?" she asked when they stepped out into the suns.h.i.+ne.

"Douglas said he heard tell your papa wanted to marry you off, too." Blue eyes stared down from a superior height and begged honesty of Fiona.

"That's true," she said, "and I a.s.sume my nephew heard this from his father." When Grace shrugged, Fiona continued. "My father thought I would have a much easier life should I choose to find a husband and bring babies into the world." Strangers were beginning to take notice of Fiona, so she linked arms with Grace and set out walking.

"That's funny," Grace said. "You do bring babies into the world. Many more than if you'd had them yourself."

"Yes, I do." Fiona chose her words carefully. "But if I was to be completely honest, my father was right. To have chosen marriage and a family, well, that would definitely have been the easier life." She paused to let the girl think about her words then pressed on. "How old are you, Grace?"

"Seventeen," she said.

"When will you be eighteen?"

Grace smiled. "Eleven months and two days."

They walked along in silence until Grace stopped short. "I don't know which I want, to tell you the truth. I wonder if you might help me decide."

Fiona shook her head. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Simple." She offered Fiona a broad smile, and the absurd feeling of familiarity returned. "I'm not asking for a job, because that would be defying my papa, which would be wrong."

"Yes, it would."

"But if you were to let me come over to the clinic sometimes, just to watch you and see what you do..." She paused. "Well, I mean if I'm not working and you're not paying me, then it can't be a job, right?"

Thankfully, Doc Killbone saved Fiona from having to respond. He stepped out onto his porch and called to her. "I wondered when you two would stop circling."

Fiona embraced the doctor, older now but no less spry. He peered at Grace over the tops of his spectacles. "Well, now, isn't this interesting? Shouldn't you be in school, Lizzie Grace?"

"I got out early today," she said. "Finished up at lunch."

"Does your teacher know that?"

Grace squared her shoulders and affected a serious look. "I'm almost done with school, Dr. Killbone. If I didn't feel so bad that Douglas is still working on his studies, I would've already completed mine."

"She's a good girl," the doctor said. "Always looking out for her-"

"Fiona Rafferty, is that you?"

Fiona whirled around to see an older woman crossing the street toward her. "Yes, I'm Fiona Rafferty. Do I know you?"

"Afternoon, Miz Minter," Doc Killbone said. "Pleasure to see you this afternoon. How's the reverend?"

"Strong, fit, and ready to dance a jig, thanks to your good care," she said.

"Now, now. No dancing for another month or so. Seriously, though, is he staying off that leg?"

Mrs. Minter nodded. "The elders met last night to divide up his duties so that he can follow your orders."

She touched a blue-veined hand to the old doctor's sleeve. "He and I are in your debt."

"You pay that debt every time you say a prayer for me. I am willing to guess it's me who owes you and the reverend by now."

She smiled. "Whatever will we do when you leave?"

Doc Killbone smiled. "Well, now, I'm glad you asked. Meet my temporary replacement, Fiona Rafferty."

"Dr. Fiona Rafferty," Grace said.

"Dr. Rafferty," the woman echoed. "Oh, my, then it's true." Her eyes misted. "I thought I'd never see you again to tell you how sorry I am. And now it's twice as sweet because I can congratulate you on making your dream come true."

"Sorry?" She looked from Doc Killbone back to Mrs. Minter. "Do we know one another?"

"Seattle to Skagway, 1899," she said. "Although I actually met you over corn bread at your daddy's table in Oregon."

"The preacher's wife." Fiona shook her head. "Oh, my, I was awful to you. Just awful." She reached for the older woman's hand. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"No, dear, it's I who must ask for your forgiveness. Yes, you were young." She chuckled. "And you were quite brash, if I might be so bold to say."

Fiona flushed and ducked her head. Her cheeks burned with shame at the remembrance of things she'd said to this poor woman.

"No, don't be ashamed, dear," the pastor's wife said. "In truth, your words have chased me for some years. At first I was mad. Really mad."

"For good reason," Fiona said. "I should never have-"

"Oh, no, dear, don't you see? You asked an important question, one that I had to search long and hard to answer." She smiled at the doctor, then squeezed Fiona's hand. "Do you remember asking that question?"

Fiona nodded and met Grace's questioning gaze. "I'm ashamed to say that I asked this dear lady what she did. I treated her horribly. If I remember correctly, I made you cry."

"Oh, no, Fiona. No." Mrs. Minter shook her head. "I'd say we were even. How did you like the accommodations I arranged for your first trip to Goose Chase?" She looked over at the doctor. "I sent her here on my uncle Boris's trawler, and I made sure she didn't sail out until he had a boatload of the nasty stuff."

Fiona giggled. "I still remember the smell of that fish."

The quartet shared a laugh. Then Mrs. Minter reached for Grace's hand. "You're the future, Lizzie Grace. Be bold like Fiona here. Don't be afraid to ask, 'What do I do?'To think she's a doctor now."

"Yes, well, that's a pretty speech, Miz Minter, but if you will excuse us, I'm going to steal Fiona away so we can go over some details before I turn this clinic over to her."

"Come, Lizzie Grace," Mrs. Minter said, "I'll walk you back to school."

"Oh, that's not necessary."

Mrs. Minter released her grasp on Fiona and latched on to Grace. "Oh, I think it is. Of course, I could just walk you home. Is your father there, dear?"

Doc Killbone chuckled as he watched the pair walk away. "Did you really ask her that?"

Fiona ducked her head. "I'm afraid so."

The doctor looked as if he were about to comment, then thought better of it. "Shall we go inside? I'm anxious to talk to you about all those years we've been apart."

"Now, now," she said as she stepped inside, "I did write."

He chuckled as the door closed behind them. "Yes, you did, and this old man saved every letter. Now, what say I put on a pot of fresh coffee while we go over clinic procedures?"

"Coffee?" Fiona smiled. "Doc, you read my mind."

"No, I didn't. Your brother told me that the way to your heart was through your coffee cup. I know we said you would start next week, but I'm itching to leave, so I was hoping you'd take one sip of my coffee and agree to start tomorrow." He paused. "I'm hoping I can get you to agree to a year of work here instead of six months."

"Doc," Fiona said slowly as she caught the first wonderful whiff of coffee brewing, "that had better be some exceptional coffee, because my present obligation is to return to teaching at the university at the end of my six months here."

The doctor smiled. "Well, let's just see, shall we?"

Chapter 17.

Tucker paced the parlor, a note from Rev. Minter's wife crumpled in his hand. So Lizzie Grace had skipped out on school again. He'd received a similar note just last week when the preacher's wife had notified him of a conversation she'd had with Lizzie Grace outside the Goose Chase clinic.

Was she just pa.s.sing by, or was Lizzie Grace at the clinic to beg Doc Killbone for a job as his nurse again? Either way, she'd disobeyed. It wouldn't do to let her get away with such behavior, but short of packing her off to boarding school, what could he do?

She was as strong willed as...He paused to think the statement through and realized he could blame her temperament on no one but himself.

Meredith a.s.sured him on a regular basis that his daughter was perfectly normal and well behaved for everyone but her father. At church, she was the model of propriety and an example to the younger ones, while at school, she excelled despite the fact that, because she had entered school late, she was a full year older than any of the other students except Douglas.

No, the problem of her discipline lay in the fact that his daughter knew she had him twisted around her pretty pinky finger. Hard as he tried, he had not yet figured out how to wriggle out of her grasp.

The back door opened and closed, and Tucker squared his shoulders. "Elizabeth Grace, come here, please."

To his surprise, Meredith was the one who stepped into the parlor. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know it's late, but I'm afraid we sat too long over cake and coffee. Grace is helping with the dishes. She'll be along shortly." Meredith touched his arm. "Change of subject. You should have been there tonight. You can't keep avoiding Fiona forever."

"I'm not avoiding her." He crushed the paper in his fist. "Neither am I seeking her. I haven't yet seen her because my job keeps me away for long periods, and you know I've been working that new stretch of track up north." He waved away anything she might have said to the contrary. "Currently my issue is with my daughter. She's missing school again."

"Oh, pshaw, Tucker. That girl could teach at that school. Don't think I don't realize the only reason she still puts up with going is because she wants to see Douglas finish. Another month, and they'll be issuing diplomas anyway. Once she gets that, you'll have a whole other set of worries, but right now, the girl is fine. A little bored, maybe, but fine."

Tucker tried to argue but could find no cause. Rather, he sank into the nearest chair and ma.s.saged the bridge of his nose to stave away the dull throbbing that once again threatened.

"Are you having another headache?" Meredith knelt beside the chair. "That's the third one this week."

Truthfully, he'd had one almost without fail every day for the last three weeks, maybe longer. The headaches plagued him mostly in the evening, but on occasion they hit him in the late afternoon, which interfered with his ability to work. Oddly, he never woke up with one.

"I insist you see the doctor about this," Meredith said.

He looked down at his twin and smiled. The effort made him wince.

Meredith climbed to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. "That's it, Tucker Smith. I'm making an appointment for you at the clinic. And before you argue with me, I will remind you that I happen to know that because you've been gone the better part of the last month, you have four days off starting tomorrow." She paused, eyes narrowed. "And if you don't go, I may be forced to use blackmail."

"Blackmail?"

"Yes." Her smile broadened. "I am your twin sister, Tucker Smith, which means I have been party to almost every misdeed you've performed since leaving the cradle. Would you really like any of those stories told to your daughter?"

Tucker furrowed his brow. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was the model of propriety as a lad. Why, the whole town knew what a good fellow I was. I guess you're forgetting about the annual citizens.h.i.+p awards I received."

Meredith shook her head. "I guess you're forgetting about the lye soap-and-honey incident at the church quilting bee. Then there was the suspicious fire at Mr. Jenson's outhouse." She snapped her fingers. "Oh, and there was the time that you and Buzz Landry took the clothes off Widow Cooper's clothesline and strung them up all over-"

He rose and held his hands up then blinked hard to push back the jab between his brows. "All right. You've made your point. I'll go see Doc Killbone tomorrow."

She gave him a suspicious look. "What time?"

"Never mind, Merry."

His sister stood staring, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm reminded of the time the reverend found the pages of his Bible glued together. Then there was the shaved cat incident over at-"

"First thing." He met her gaze. "I mean it."

Fiona's first day of work started out with a disaster. The dress she'd carefully chosen and ironed lost a b.u.t.ton as she was slipping it on. Choosing a summer frock sprigged in roses, Fiona made it all the way through her morning routine only to spill half a bowl of oatmeal down the front of it while trying to juggle her bowl and her coffee cup. While she took solace in the fact it wasn't coffee she wore on her trek back upstairs to change, she had lost valuable time.

Thankfully, she arrived to find no line formed outside the clinic doors. Stepping inside, she instantly smelled fresh coffee brewing.

"Doc," she called as she removed her hat and set her handbag aside. "I'm sorry I'm late. You wouldn't believe the trouble I had just getting out the door. Say," she said as she followed the luscious scent to the kitchen in the back of the building. "I thought you were leaving yesterday."

She pushed back the curtain separating the kitchen from the adjacent hallway and stepped into a room that held the combined scents of fresh coffee and baked bread. At the cookstove stood Grace.

"What are you doing here?" Fiona suppressed a smile. Obviously the girl's papa hadn't been consulted, nor had her schooling been considered.

To her credit, Grace looked reasonably contrite. "I wanted to make sure your first day went well."

Several different versions of the same scolding came to mind. Instead, Fiona set them aside for possible use later. "Thank you, Grace," she said. "I appreciate the effort you've gone to here."

"I hope you like my coffee. My papa says it's the best coffee in Goose Chase, and believe me, he's particular." She set the pot on a folded napkin then retrieved two cups from the cupboard and filled them. "Be honest. What do you think?"