Mack's Care (Grooms With Honor Book 4) Page 4

  "Maybe if I dressed like a man, people would accept me as a doctor," Pansy mused as she stared across the grass at the rising sandstone bluffs in the distance.

  Not with her lovely chest, Mack thought. There was no way she could bind it to look like a flat-chested man. Mack felt his face flush just thinking about it. He cleared his throat and changed the subject.

  "If you want to buy a horse, Hilda and Noah have the best horse stock around here. You can board it at the livery, and it would always be ready for you to use."

  "I thought you'd suggest Seth's horses instead." Pansy glanced over at Mack.

  "Not if you want speed to get to a ranch in an emergency situation. Hilda's horses are racers."

  "Sounds like they'd be more fun to ride too. I imagine I'll just rent a horse from the livery for a while though. I have to have business and money to need a horse first."

  Mack hated that she doubted herself and her ability to serve the residents of the area. The council, not knowing a woman doctor was coming, had put Pansy in a bind as soon as she’d gotten off the train.

  "I'm sure you'll have both before you know it," he assured her. They needed to talk about something other than her business. "You say you grew up out west. You still have family there? Parents? Siblings?"

  The drop in Pansy's shoulders made him feel bad he asked.

  "I was an only child, and my mother died when I was twelve. It was just my father and me, and a few ranch hands on our ranch."

  "How'd you end up in Boston going to medical school?"

  They continued to ride without her answering and Mack sensed it was a difficult situation that had sent her away from home.

  "My father died in a range war, and I lost the ranch. My mother and Mrs. Elison had been friends when they were young, and both lived near Fort Laramie. They kept in touch over the years, and Mrs. Elison and her husband even visited us about a dozen or so years ago, after they were in Kansas for their daughter, Cora's, wedding.

  "After Pa notified the Elison's that my mother had died, Mrs. Elison wrote back saying if I ever needed a place to stay, she'd wire me a train ticket."

  "So that's how you ended up in Boston. Why medical school?"

  "If I had known what to do, I could have saved my father."

  Mack nodded, understanding what she meant. “If only” had played on his mind a lot over the years about his birth parents too.

  "Plus, I won't be marrying so I needed a way to support myself."

  Mack jerked around so fast in the saddle his horse stepped sideways in protest.

  "Won't marry? Why not?" Mack's heart sank at her words.

  Pansy looked away, her back ramrod straight.

  "Doc Pansy, why not?" Mack pushed because he knew it was important. When she didn't answer, he pushed his horse in front of hers, so it had to stop.

  "Mack, please, don't make me say it. My father said it enough times as it was." She shut her eyes rather than meet his.

  Now he was baffled. What had Pansy’s father said to her that made her choose not to marry?

  "You can tell me anything, and I won't tell another soul," Mack solemnly swore to her.

  "Why should I tell you? I barely know you."

  "My parent's line of work meant we never told anyone when someone came to the parsonage for counsel. What’s said in confidence stays between us, unless you tell others yourself. Or would you prefer to talk to my parents instead of me?"

  "No. It's in the past, but it's made me who I am, I'm afraid."

  Mack urged his horse beside Pansy's again and nudged the animal to start walking. He supposed Pansy would talk when she was ready.

  Mack listened to the horses walking through the tall grass and the creaks of their saddle leather as he surveyed the scenery. A few more miles and they'd be at the Bar E Ranch.

  "My father always told me I was too big and ugly for a man to love me, and I shouldn't produce more like me."

  Mack pulled up on the reins to stop his horse again. If the man weren’t already dead, he deserved to be shot for saying something like that to his daughter. Especially since it was obviously untrue.

  "He was wrong, Pansy. And if he were a decent father, he would have never, ever said that to his child, or any child."

  "But he was right. I—"

  "No, don't say it." Mack swung out of his saddle and came around to Pansy's horse. "Get off the horse. Now."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Off," Mack said as he took the reins from her hands. She hesitated, but finally used the pommel to dismount.

  Mack ground dropped both horse's reins and took Pansy's hand to pull her a short distance from the horses.

  Her eyes grew wide as he boldly set his hands on her hips and drew her closer.

  "I don’t see a woman who’s too big, or too ugly to love. I see a beautiful, smart, capable woman, and I'm going to kiss her."

  Mack softly touched his lips to hers, twice, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close for a longer kiss. Mack kept kissing Pansy until she softened, melted into his arms and kissed him back. It felt better than anything he’d imagined.

  Then he felt her body stiffen, so he released her and stepped back. She was, after all, big enough to cause him pain if she decided to hurt him.

  "Why did you do that?" she asked, looking confused.

  "I'm attracted to you, and I wanted you to feel how it can be between a man and a woman." Mack stood his ground because Pansy needed to hear something other than her rotten father's words banging around in her brain.

  Her fingers traced her lips as if to feel his kiss again.

  "I've never been kissed," she confided. "Except by my mother. But that’s another thing entirely."

  "Want to do it again?" Mack grinned, happy to teach the doctor how to master the art of kissing.

  Chapter 6

  Pansy was sure, even after riding three miles after Mack's kiss, her face was still beet red.

  And it would have been several kisses if Pansy hadn't put a stop to it after just one. He'd been a gentleman and stepped back when she said no, but the fire was still in his eyes and he had a grin on his big face whenever she glanced his direction.

  "Wilerson place is up ahead,” he said. “Be prepared for your horse to be uneasy. You never know what's going on here."

  The cream-colored two-story wooden-framed house, dark red wooden barn, and various outbuildings showed a prosperous homestead, although the old sod house near the barn suggested the ranch's humble beginning.

  "It’s a pretty homestead," Pansy noted as they followed the lane up to the house. "Why do you say—"

  That's all Pansy had time to say when her horse reared, almost tumbling backward before it landed on his feet, determined to fight Pansy's hold of the reins and pommel.

  Pansy caught a flash of two youngsters’ heads popping up out of the tall grass along the lane when her horse spun around for the second time.

  "Girls, stop throwing dirt clods right now!" Mack bellowed as he fought to keep his own horse from running away.

  Girls? Pansy searched for the children as her horse hopped like a rabbit. Yes, two girls with white-blonde braids now stood stock still staring up at Mack.

  "Sorry, Mr. Reagan, we thought you were robbers," the oldest girl apologized before the two ran off in the tall grass toward the house.

  "Mercy! That could have been tragic," Pansy said as she tried to settle her heart besides her horse. "Thank you for the warning.”

  "Just a normal day on the Wilerson Ranch. I was expecting wild animals since the family usually has a coyote pup or bobcat cub running with their dogs. But the children were just as wild."

  "Doesn't their mother take care of them?" She remembered the Wilersons in church that morning and they had all looked clean and dressed, for the most part.

  Mack pointed to the corral by the barn where two horses were trying to buck their riders off.

  "That's Hilda and her oldest daughter breaking horses to ride."


  "Where's the husband, Noah?"

  "Probably in the house overseeing the rest of the kids and making their supper," Mack grinned. "It's no secret Hilda would rather be outside working than inside the house, even after they moved out of their soddie."

  The barking dogs brought Noah out onto the porch to meet them.

  "What a welcome surprise, Doctor Walline, Mack. Welcome to our ranch."

  "Thank you, Mr. Wilerson," Pansy said but hesitated to dismount her horse with the dogs prancing around them.

  "Wait a second and I'll grab the reins of your horse so that you can step down," Noah told her as he walked down the steps. "Your horse isn't used to all the commotion around here."

  "I told Doctor Walline to buy one of your horses when she's ready to purchase one for her doctor calls," Mack said as he dismounted himself, and then tied his horse's reins on the hitching post where Noah had tied her horse's.

  Noah laughed. "Yes, a horse trained by us will be able to get through anything, weather, danger…wild animals."

  And wild children, Pansy thought as she looked at the two mischievous girls now hanging on the top corral rail watching their mother and sister.

  “We're riding around the ranching community so Doctor Walline can get a sense of the land," Mack told Noah as they walked toward the corrals. Hilda had seen them and had somehow gotten off her horse.

  "I hope this is a social call, Doctor Walline," Hilda called out as she walked toward them. "I think all my children are currently in one piece."

  "Most days," Noah chuckled beside Pansy.

  Hilda pulled off her leather gloves and hit them against her trousers, causing a puff of dust to flutter in the air. Hilda's smile was infectious, and Pansy relaxed, knowing this was one woman who wouldn't care if Pansy was big, tall, and felt out of place at times.

  "I know it's Sunday, but I hate for my green horses to forget their training. I was just riding them for the pleasure of it instead of working them."

  "It doesn't bother me, Mrs. Wilerson. My work as a physician requires me to work whenever I'm needed, whether it's Sunday or not," Pansy assured her.

  "I know what you mean. Well, I’m glad you came out today because I have the perfect gelding for you to use on your rounds," Hilda said as she motioned them to follow her around the barn to the pasture behind it.

  "Thank you, but I can't afford a horse yet," Pansy stammered just as Hilda put her fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle.

  Pansy looked back to see her horse try to pull away from the hitching post. He sure didn't like this place.

  A small herd of Paint horses wandered toward the fence, oblivious to two dogs who had crawled through the fence and were now trotting and barking among them.

  "See the big gelding on the right? Mostly brown with white spots? Even though he loves to race, he stays steady until you ask him to take off. He can carry your weight, full saddlebags, plus a patient if you need to bring someone back to town."

  "I can't afford a horse yet,” Pansy reiterated. “But when I do, I'd like to try him out."

  "Sophie, bring Oats in and saddle him up for the doctor," Hilda called out to one of the daughters, who crawled over the fence, talking to the horses the whole time. The young girl, probably about ten-years-old, touched the big horse's nose and walked toward the gate between the pasture and the back corral. The horse followed the girl without any hesitation.

  "Mrs. Wilerson, I—"

  "Please call me Hilda. If you like Oats, you can use him in exchange for patching up my kids now and then. I hate stitching them up myself since I don't like to sew."

  "Did you call the horse, 'Oats'?" Mack asked.

  "He loves oats. He sneaked into the oat bin in the barn when he was a colt—one of the girls left the door open—and about ate himself sick on oats. Luckily, he didn't founder and die."

  Sophie immerged from the barn, leading the saddled horse. The two little girls were perched on the horse’s saddle, chatting in a foreign language.

  "Oats knows both English and Swedish commands," Hilda explained as she pulled one girl, then the other out of the saddle and set them on the ground.

  Hilda held the reins out to Pansy. "Try Oats out. Race around the section if you want. Won't take you long."

  "Maybe you should saddle Nutcracker and go with Doctor Walline?" Noah asked his wife. "I know you'd both love to race, even if Nutcracker can't run as fast in his older age."

  "The Nutcracker? I've already heard about him," Pansy said, now curious to see his horse.

  "Sophie?"

  "I'll get him, Ma," the girl answered.

  "My favorite horse has a reputation going back to our family's cattle driving days. When I was Sophie's age, we drove longhorn cattle from Texas up to a Kansas cattle town, first Abilene, and then later to Ellsworth, when Abilene no longer shipped cattle out by rail."

  "So where did you race your horse?" Pansy asked.

  "Back then there'd be impromptu horse races among the drovers when they'd get to town. The cattle were delivered to the rail yard, the young men paid, and they were ready for a little fun."

  "They let a girl race with them?" Pansy wondered, remembering her own struggles trying to make her way in a man's world.

  "I was tall, skinny and flat-chested back then. I'd push my braid under my hat, and join in a race," Hilda grinned. "I won enough cash to buy this abandoned homestead."

  Noah and Hilda looked at each other, letting Pansy know there must be more to the story.

  "I'm bringing him out, Mr. Reagan. Stand clear," warned Sophie.

  "Why?" asked Pansy.

  "Nutcracker doesn't like men," Hilda answered as she swung easily into the saddle.

  "Get up on Oats, Doctor Walline, and we'll head out. The men will have refreshments ready for us when we get back," Hilda commanded, and Pansy stepped her left foot in the stirrup and swung her right leg over the saddle.

  "Stirrup length all right?"

  "Yes, actually I—"

  "Okay, let's go!" Nutcracker's muzzle was white with old age, but he was prancing like a two-year-old, ready to run when Hilda spun him around and headed for the lane.

  "Follow my pace. I'll start Nutcracker slow, gradually letting him run when he warms up, then slow him back down."

  Pansy felt like a girl again, racing across the Wyoming Territory, by the time Hilda slowed Nutcracker down.

  "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Wilerson. I haven't been able to ride like this since before I moved to Boston!" Pansy laughed as their horses slowed to walk side by side.

  "You're welcome, and please, call me Hilda when we don't have to be proper in town," Hilda winked.

  "And I'd love you to call me Pansy too. Can I be bold enough to say I've found a kindred spirit?"

  "You can come to me for whatever you need, Pansy. I don't hesitate to speak my mind or bend the rules."

  Pansy sighed, looking out over the spacious land. "I bent the rules when I applied to medical school and got in, with the help of the Elisons."

  "They are good people.”

  "I fear they may be the only ones who believe I’ll make a good doctor. What if no one comes to me when they need medical help?"

  “Well, it won’t be the same as if you were a doctor in a big city. People here don’t go to the doctor until they’re about to die."

  "Why not?" Pansy asked as her horse blew and shook after their run. Pansy didn't mind the horse's excitement after their gallop across the prairie. She had liked it too.

  "One of the main problems is money to pay for a doctor's service. If it looks as if the person won't survive, they'll need the money for the burial instead."

  "That's terrible!"

  "But you know it's true, especially for children. If they caught a serious disease, such as diphtheria or pneumonia..." Hilda shrugged her shoulders, "you'll be burying the child in a few days."

  "I've learned things in medical school that can help a person recover, if they go to a doctor in time."

  "The
n may I suggest your first act of business is to meet people and explain that to them. They have to be comfortable with coming to you with their problems."

  "You mean, go to their homes even if they aren't sick?"

  "Yes, make an effort to reach out to them first. Go to church, club meetings, eat at the café. It takes time, and even more so for a woman. But I’d say it’s your best bet."

  "What have people done since there hasn't been a doctor in Clear Creek for a few years?"

  "Travel to another town, or visit the barber down the street. Frank Tolbert pulls teeth, digs out bullets, sews up wounds."

  In other words, all the work she should be doing.

  "So, I'm now his competition," Pansy said.

  No wonder the barber and his wife snubbed her when she was introduced to them in church. Mrs. Reagan said the Tolbert family moved to Kansas from Louisville, Kentucky last year, so were new residents too.

  "Yes, but he should stick to cutting hair. He's caused more people permanent damage than healing."

  Hilda turned Nutcracker around to travel back to her ranch.

  "And watch out for their young son, Filbert. He about burned down the entire downtown block last fall."

  Pansy gasped at that news. "How? Was anyone injured?"

  "The boy threw a firebomb in his father's barbershop, thinking if it burned down, they'd return to Louisville. No one was hurt, except for Fergus Reagan breathing in a lot of smoke. He happened to hear the window breaking and went to investigate. He managed to cover the burning rag and the bottle filled with kerosene with a pan and scoot it out the door."

  Pansy's mind raced to taking care of burn victims and shuddered. With wood stoves and lanterns in the houses and business around town, she knew she'd eventually see a person with bad burns.

  "You'll have to be patient because it will take time to win over people's misconceptions of you being a woman doctor. But if you have gumption and persistence, you'll do fine, Pansy."

  The ranch buildings were in sight again, as they walked up the lane. Pansy watched for the mischievous girls, but didn't see them this time. Surely, they wouldn't throw dirt clods at their momma.

  Hilda spied Noah and Mack by the corral and waved.