Bluebonnet Belle Read online

  “The rain never let up, and we didn’t see the sense of staying another two days crowded into a single room together.” He smiled. “But more than that, I couldn’t wait to get back to you. Dinner tonight?”

  “Of course.” She frowned. “Are you limping? Have you hurt yourself?”

  He looked a little chagrined. “No. Just a…Well, my toe is a little sore. Probably all that walking we did handing out pamphlets.”

  Stepping back into his arms, she embraced him, but discovered something missing today. The excitement—the sheer elation she usually felt—wasn’t there. She excused the reaction to a hectic week and Henry coming home two days early. His arrival had taken her by surprise, and she was distracted.

  “I will look at it if you like.”

  “It’s nothing, really.” Consulting his timepiece, Henry frowned. “I really must run now. I promised to meet a business contact shortly after noon.”

  “So soon?” They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks, and already he had another meeting. They’d barely spent five minutes together.

  “Will seven be convenient for you?”

  Nodding, she absently leaned forward to receive the kiss he brushed across her lips.

  “Seven,” she agreed.

  They ate in the dining room just off the foyer of the Kingston Hotel. The menu was limited, but that wasn’t important. Henry’s company was all that mattered. Strangely enough, April had to remind herself as she’d dressed for the evening.

  Henry dominated the conversation with stories of his recent adventures in Austin. April was determined to make a trip there soon herself, believing a woman could make inroads in placing the vegetable compound where the three men had failed.

  When Henry suddenly paused, lifting the tablecloth to look under the table at his foot, April frowned. “Is your toe still bothering you?”

  He grimaced. “Somewhat.”

  “I can recommend an herbal treatment or…” she couldn’t believe she was going to say this “…perhaps you should see Dr. Fuller.”

  Glancing up, Henry grimaced. “Fuller?”

  “The new doctor.”

  “Oh, yes. Would you care for dessert?”

  “No, thank you. Grandpa and I have been going without sweets. Dr. Fuller won’t let him eat refined sugar, so I’ve been doing without, too.”

  Henry frowned. “You’ve been discussing health issues with Dr. Fuller? You haven’t been ill, have you?”

  “No, Grandpa had another one of his dizzy spells. A bad one. Datha was frightened, and she took him to see the doctor.”

  “Ah, yes, Dignity’s new medical man. I recall seeing him on occasion at the meetings.” He quirked his eyebrow questioningly. “Is your grandfather well?”

  “Yes, but I worry about him. Dr. Fuller suggested a change in diet and a walk every day. Surprisingly, Grandpa’s stuck with the diet, though he complains a lot. I haven’t been able to persuade him to walk yet.”

  Henry tilted his head to study her. “I can’t believe you’re trusting your grandfather’s care to a doctor. The man must be extremely persuasive.”

  April smiled. “If it had been my choice, Dr. Fuller wouldn’t have seen Grandpa. But he seems to be doing well with the doctor’s supervision, though I have had a tonic made up for him.”

  “It sounds as if the good doctor is doing a fine job.”

  “If the daily parade of eligible women marching through his office with baked goods is any indication, the doctor is doing very well.”

  Henry laughed. “He’s single?” He leaned forward, his smile teasing but confident. “Dare I ask if he’s made an impression upon you?”

  “Only a bad one,” she parried. “He’s all for ‘modern medicine’ and says prescribing the elixir is the same as calling in a witch doctor.”

  “But Riley likes him?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. They visit on the side porch every evening.”

  As they emerged from the hotel an hour later, Henry glanced up at the sky. Clouds scudded swiftly overhead. “Are you in the mood for a stroll?”

  “I’d like that.”

  They walked slowly around the town square arm in arm, enjoying the beautiful night. A large harvest moon sat in the night sky like a huge dish, bathing the town with a white glow.

  “Ah, what a lovely sight,” Henry said, patting her hand.

  Breathing deeply of the crisp air, she smiled. “It is a lovely evening.”

  “I was referring to the lady on my arm.” He stopped and turned her into his embrace.

  His kiss was warm, comfortable. He didn’t stir up butterflies like Gray did. Were butterflies what she wanted? Henry believed in the same things she did, the importance of changing lives through the God-given mission of restoring health.

  Of course, Gray thought he was serving God, too. She pushed the unwanted thought away. Gray Fuller might mean well, but he was a stubborn, hardheaded man who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see the truth.

  Voices of others strolling in the square floated to her, and April was uneasy. They were in a public area, making a spectacle. She pulled back. “Henry, we shouldn’t.”

  “I know, but I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  But it wasn’t seemly. If Grandpa were to hear she was encouraging the attentions of a suitor in public, he would be troubled. Gray Fuller’s voice, repeating his earlier warning about upsetting Riley came back to her. Reluctantly removing herself from Henry’s arms, she sighed. “It’s late. I must be getting home.”

  “I’d rather take another turn around the square.”

  “That would be nice, but I really must go. Grandpa is waiting for me. He worries if I’m out too late.”

  By the time they arrived back at the mortuary, Henry was limping again.

  “I do think you should have the doctor look at that toe,” April said as he kissed her good-night.

  “If it’s not better in the morning, I’ll stop by and meet your new doctor.”

  “He’s not my doctor,” April retorted.

  “Only teasing.” Henry laughed. “I know I’m the man in your life.”

  “You are,” April confessed, unable to shake the feeling that Riley was watching from the upstairs window.

  “Ah, my love.” Henry pressed her tightly to his wool jacket. She breathed in the faint scent of tobacco, the lingering hint of cologne. He smelled nothing like Gray…nothing at all.

  “I don’t want to leave you. I thought about you every waking moment while I was away. There in that room, listening to Will and Dan snore—”

  “How flattering.”

  “I didn’t mean…” He held her away from him, his gaze capturing hers affectionately. “You’re teasing me.”

  “I am, but I do appreciate that you were thinking of me.”

  “I merely meant—”

  She lay her fingertip across his prickly mustache. “I know what you meant. I’d best say good-night.”

  “Will I see you at Lydia’s tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I promised I’d help with the pamphlets.”

  Taking both her gloved hands into his, Henry held them tightly. “The hours that separate us are endless.”

  She smiled up at him. “Really, Henry—you’re not in too much pain, are you?”

  “I barely noticed it, darling. Just a little sore to the touch.”

  “But you will see the doctor first thing tomorrow morning?”

  “If I think of it, dearest.”

  “Good night, Henry.”

  “Good night, my love.”

  Upon entering his room, Henry ripped off his shoe and yanked his foot up on his knee so he could look at the swollen appendage. It felt as if someone had seared his toe with a red-hot branding iron.

  You could count on him being on Dr. Fuller’s doorstep. At the crack of dawn!

  Rolling out of bed the next morning, he examined his toe. Overnight it had doubled in size and it was throbbing painfully!

  “How am I
going to get my shoe on?” he murmured, staring at the pulsating extremity.

  Loosening the laces of his shoe as much as possible, he gritted his teeth and gingerly edged his foot inside, at the last moment clamping his eyes shut and jamming it in the final inch. Groaning, he fell back across the bed, sweat rolling off his forehead.

  Several minutes passed before he could muster enough gumption to sit up and lace the shoe. Making his way slowly down the stairs of the boardinghouse, he straightened his coat, then attempted to stride naturally down the street.

  As he entered the doctor’s office, he smiled at the many women, all packing baskets of fresh baked goods. They looked him over like a piece of meat, and he remembered what April had said about them setting their sights on the single doctor. Henry could almost feel sorry for the man. But then he was single, too.

  Nodding to the ladies, he hung his hat on the rack and sat down.

  The waiting room was well furnished except for a three-foot-high vase tucked in a corner. The good doctor had excellent taste. Henry liked nice things. One day he was going to own fine furnishings himself.

  The door to the examining room opened, and the doctor appeared. “Next?”

  Glancing at the women, Henry waited for someone to get up. When one by one they smiled at him and said, “You go on, we’re waiting to see the doctor on a personal matter,” he didn’t quibble. He needed relief, and he needed it fast.

  Getting up, he moaned, straightened and limped behind the doctor into the examining room.

  Closing the door, Fuller asked, “What can I do for you today?”

  “My toe is killing me. You’ve got to do something.”

  He smiled. “Let’s have a look at it.”

  Henry noticed the examining room was small, but the equipment was new.

  “Sit on the table, and remove your shoe, Mr….”

  “Long. Henry Trampas Long.” He climbed on the table and untied his left shoe. After a slight hesitation, he yanked it off. “Aghhh!”

  “Sock?”

  Henry carefully pulled off his sock and let it join the shoe on the floor.

  “Prop your foot up here, Mr. Long, and I’ll have a look at it.”

  Henry gingerly rested his foot on the towel across the doctor’s knee. “You’ve got to do something. It’s killing me.”

  “How long has it been this way?”

  “Two…three days.”

  “Um, angry-looking.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Ingrown toenail. Been doing a lot of walking lately?”

  “Nothing but. Can you fix it?”

  “Yes, a little minor surgery, a little trimming. Then we’ll need to treat it for a few days, and you’ll be good as new.”

  Fear flooded Henry’s chest. He sometimes fainted at the sight of blood.

  Fuller smiled, moving to the glass-fronted medicine cabinet. “It’ll be a little uncomfortable for a few minutes.”

  “Can you give me something for the pain?”

  The doctor laughed. “I’ll heat some water and let you soak it before we start.”

  Henry met the doctor’s eyes expectantly. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

  “Like fire,” he admitted. “I’ll get the water.”

  A few minutes later Henry’s foot was soaking in a tub of hot water while the doc laid out his instruments.

  “How are you liking Dignity?” Henry asked.

  “I like it fine. It’s a nice town, and I’m settling in comfortably.”

  “Folks treating you all right?” he asked, trying to get his mind off the upcoming surgery.

  “The people are very accommodating. You from around here?”

  “Lived here all my life.”

  “Mmm.” Fuller selected a small scalpel.

  “Do you miss Dallas?”

  “No, can’t say that I do.”

  “Really?” Henry said. “I’d think you’d miss the conveniences, the theater, the restaurants.”

  “No, I like Dignity. I plan to make it my home.”

  “Not me.” Henry winced as the doc probed his swollen toe. “I’ve been in Austin the last couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to working there fulltime one day.”

  Fuller bent over, blocking the view. Henry was relieved. He would just as soon not see what was going on.

  “Dignity too familiar?” the physician guessed.

  “Boring,” Henry replied, wincing as the probing became sharper.

  “Odd, I haven’t found it to be so.”

  “Ouch!” He shot up from the table. “What are you doing?” Gritting his teeth, he gripped the edge harder.

  “Just looking. Relax,” Fuller murmured. “It’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  Lying back, Henry clamped his eyes shut. Sweat again beaded his forehead. “You haven’t lived in Dignity long enough. You’ll see I’m right. In a year you’ll be wishing you’d never left Dallas.”

  “Perhaps…. This might hurt a little.”

  Henry groaned, getting a firmer grip on the sides of the table. That meant it would be excruciating. Yowww!

  Fuller straightened, tossing a wad of cotton aside. “That should do it.”

  Henry closed his eyes. “Are you finished?”

  “I’m finished.”

  Swiping his forearm across his dripping forehead, Henry croaked, “April said you knew your business.”

  “April?” Fuller was wrapping Henry’s toe with a piece of white gauze.

  “April Truitt. She said you’d treated her grandpa.”

  “Mmm,” he murmured. “I’d suggest you stay off the foot for the next little while, keep it elevated. Come back in a couple of days and let me check it again.”

  “Sure thing, Doc.”

  Both men looked up as the door of the examining room burst open. “Gray, darling!”

  The woman framed in the doorway wore a tiny hat perched over her forehead, atop an enormous cloud of curls. Her Dolly Varden dress, fashioned of a brightly patterned fabric in colors of blues and maroon, fit closely at the bodice and waist, with rows of lace running down the front of the skirt. On anyone else the bright colors would have been overwhelming, but on Francesca DuBois the effect was smashing.

  “Francesca?”

  “It is I!” Gliding across the room, she planted her hand on the front of Gray’s coat and looked up into his face demurely. “Have you missed me?”

  “I can’t believe you’ve made another trip here….” She was paying a fortune in rail services.

  “But I told you I would only be gone a short while—long enough to buy more suitable furnishings for your office….”

  Her gaze swept to Henry, who was openly ogling her, and she gave him a withering look. “I was hoping to whisk you away for a while, for an early lunch, perhaps?”

  Sitting up, Henry straightened his jacket, grinning at her as he tried to hide his big toe under the towel.

  “Sorry.” The doctor walked over to close the door.

  “Oooh, Gray! I’ve come all the way from Dallas, and you can’t spare a moment to have lunch with me?”

  Impatience tinged Fuller’s features. “I have an office full of patients. Your efforts are in vain—give it up, Francesca!”

  She clicked her tongue in a show of impatience. “Oh, Gray. Don’t be such a bore. I’ll wait for you in the dining room at the hotel.”

  “Francesca…”

  “Papa sends his best wishes and says he sincerely hopes you profit greatly from your little adventure.”

  Her eyes met his and he got the message. He still owed Louis money—a lot of money. He quietly conceded. “The hotel. Noon.”

  “My goodness,” Henry said when the door closed behind her. “Now that’s a woman.”

  Gray clenched his jaw. “You like her? You’re welcome to her.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gazing up at the sky, Datha listened to the wind moving through the trees. She felt a sense of anticipation, knowing the hot summer was o
ver, and winter hadn’t yet closed. She loved fall, but then, anytime was good as long as she was with Jacel.

  They lay on their backs, side by side, the long grass waving above them, forming a pretty pattern against the azure sky.

  “Are you my woman, Datha?”

  “I’m your woman, Jacel Evans. Forever—till death part us.”

  Jacel propped himself up on his elbow, gazing into her face. A half smile curved his lips.

  Datha let her hand drift over his chiseled features. How she loved this man! Surely God couldn’t object. They were young and deeply in love, and the world was at their feet. Nothing could mar this love, nothing destroy it. Jacel could move more raw lumber than the most seasoned worker. Problem was, Mr. Jordan didn’t appreciate his work, or his loyalty.

  But before long Jacel would be going off to college. When he described the school to her, she felt small and insignificant. He’d told her that Harvard had been established not long after the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock, and she just couldn’t comprehend anything being that old and still serviceable.

  Already it was over two centuries old, turning out lawyers and doctors and scientists who made a difference in the world. And in a few years Jacel would be one of those who helped change folks’ lives. Just thinking about it gave her goose bumps.

  “I love you, Datha Gower.” He clasped her hand and held it tightly. “I’m sure going to miss you when I go off to Harvard.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, but it’ll be worth the wait.”

  “One of these days we won’t have to sneak out to be together. One day we’ll be married. I don’t like sneaking around this way.”

  “Me, either,” she whispered. She didn’t want to keep anything from her grandmother, but she wouldn’t understand. Datha had tried to talk to her about Jacel, but she refused to listen. Once they were married, she would see what a fine, knowledgeable man God had given Datha. Then Flora Lee would know why her granddaughter had to sneak around.

  “Before you know it I’ll have a law degree.”

  “And you’ll be the finest lawyer around.”

  “I’ll be making lots of money, and we’ll get married, have lots of babies and live like rich folks.”