2

After Rosemary returned home, she exchanged her silk dress for a serviceable blue and gray plaid wool skirt with matching bodice. Unless Dr. Stewart hired her, which seemed unlikely, she’d continue to volunteer her mornings at Lindberg’s Mercantile while she searched for a salaried job. She heaved a deep sigh. Tonight she’d compose a letter to Alice Broadbent, and pray for a speedy response.

Bodie bounced and wiggled next to the door when she prepared to leave. She smiled at his enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re coming with me. You’d be missed if I left you behind.”

The air held the biting snap of a forthcoming snowstorm. Iron-gray clouds smothered the horizon. Grateful she had only two blocks to walk, Rosemary wrapped her cloak around her and covered the distance between her home and the store with rapid strides.

When she entered the building, she didn’t see Faith in her usual place behind the counter. On her left, colors from bolts of fabric on display brightened the area under one window. Two cookstoves shared space with new plows in the center of the rectangular room.

Faith’s “woodstove regulars,” Mr. Grisbee and Mr. Slocum, looked up from their checker game next to the box stove. They’d been fixtures at the store long before Rosemary arrived in Noble Springs. Mr. Grisbee lived up to his name, with grizzled whiskers and a growly manner. In contrast, Mr. Slocum kept his gray beard neatly trimmed, and his thinning hair was regularly barbered. As Faith’s grandfather’s friends, they took it upon themselves to act as substitute uncles.

“Morning, Miss Rosemary,” Mr. Slocum said. “You looking for Miss Faith? She’s in the storeroom.” As he spoke, he rose and strode to the burlap curtain hanging across the opening in the rear wall. Poking his head around the door frame, he called, “Miss Rosemary’s here. You can quit your worrying.”

Faith bustled past the curtain. “When you didn’t arrive at nine, I was afraid you were ill. I was planning to call on you during the dinner hour.”

“I went to see Dr. Stewart first thing this morning. I’m sorry to worry you.” Rosemary hung her cloak on a peg and tied an apron around her waist.

Faith’s lake-blue eyes widened with concern. “You went to see the new doctor? What’s wrong? Why haven’t you said anything?” She gestured toward the front counter. “Come and tell me.”

Gratitude for her friend swept over Rosemary. “I’m healthy as a horse.” She followed Faith past shelves stacked with cookware and china. Once they were out of earshot of the woodstove regulars, she lowered her voice and said, “I went to see Dr. Stewart to ask if he’d hire me to assist him as a nurse.”

“A nurse? You said you’d put all that behind you.”

“I know, and I meant it at the time, but now that you and Curt are married, I want to earn my own living. Curt’s salary from the academy should go for the two of you, not to keep a roof over my head.”

“We’d love it if you’d move in with us. I’ve told you that before.”

“Your house is already overflowing.”

“Just Grandpa and Amy and Sophia,” Faith said, referring to the young widow and her child who stayed with her grandfather while she and Curt were at work.

“Plus you and Curt. That’s a houseful.”

Faith’s expression brightened. “The mercantile is doing fairly well. I’ll pay you for your help.”

“I told you from the beginning I didn’t want to be paid. Besides, that would be no different than taking part of Curt’s salary.” She squeezed Faith’s hand. “I love spending mornings here. But I need to look after myself. Nursing is what I know.”

“When does Dr. Stewart want you to come to work?”

Rosemary looked down at their clasped hands. “Never, I’m afraid. He didn’t seem to take my request seriously. Then when he asked for recommendations, I couldn’t think of anyone but Reverend French and Curt. Not very impressive.”

“Did he say that?”

“No. He just said he’d let me know soon. I think that was a polite way to get me out the door.”

“Let’s say you’re right, and he doesn’t hire you. There are bound to be places in town where you could work. Why don’t we make a list?” Faith leaned on the counter, winding a loose strand of her straw-blonde hair around one finger. “How about a paid companion for an elderly lady?” She scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper.

“What elderly lady? I don’t know any.”

“Could you be a seamstress?”

“I hate sewing.”

“You’re a wonderful cook.”

“None of the ladies who could afford a cook would want me. Most everyone who knows I was a nurse thinks I’m vulgar for having touched men’s bodies.”

“That’s bound to pass in time.”

Rosemary slid an arm around Faith’s waist. “I’ll think of something. Please don’t worry.”

The bell over the door jingled as Mrs. Raines, one of the mercantile’s steady customers, entered. Her gaze slid past Rosemary and settled on Faith. “Mrs. Saxon, the druggist told me you have several excellent shaving soaps. Mr. Raines would like to try something different.”

Rosemary watched while Faith showed the woman an assortment of round pots, each bearing the name of the company that produced the soap. She thought of the shaving compound she prepared for Curt. Maybe she could . . . No. She’d have to sell dozens each week. As if that were likely to happen.

Rosemary drew the hood of her cloak around her face as she made her way home through blowing snow. Frozen droplets struck her nose and cheeks, melting to run down her neck. Bodie trotted at her side, his eyes squinted against the swirling flakes. His feathery collie-like fur hung in limp strings. She’d stayed longer at the mercantile than she’d planned and now dusk had settled over the streets. Even the horses that passed on the road seemed in a hurry to get out of the storm.

She paused in front of the barbershop at the corner of Second Street and peered in the direction of her house. A shadowy figure moved eastward beyond her fence, then disappeared into the gray twilight. Bodie growled low in his throat.

“That’s enough. We’re almost there.” The last thing she needed was to have her dog chase after a fellow pedestrian. Bodie didn’t weigh more than forty pounds, but he didn’t know that.

Rosemary crossed the street and covered the remaining distance to her front gate, stepping with care over icy patches on the boardwalk. When she unfastened the latch, her gaze fell on fresh tracks leading to her porch and back to the street. The person she’d seen must have been inside her yard.

Drawing her cloak to one side, she placed a foot inside one of the tracks. The outline dwarfed her small boot. A man’s shoe, no doubt. But who? If Curt had stopped by, he would have waited.

Shivering, she followed Bodie up the brick pathway to the porch steps, then paused at the foot of the stairs. Another set of footprints led around the house. Partially filled in by snow, they remained distinct enough for her to see they were made by a smaller shoe. Two people inside her fence. Three if she counted her predawn visitor. A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the snowy evening. She dropped her hand to Bodie’s collar and held him close until she had locked and bolted her door.

With shaking hands she built up the fire in the kitchen, then draped her cloak over a chair to dry. She’d been on her own since Curt and Faith married last October. Until today, she hadn’t given much thought to her vulnerability. Perhaps Faith was right. She could join them in the large home at the west end of town and give up her notions of independence.

Rosemary sank into a chair and rested her chin on her closed fist, considering the idea. If she moved in with her brother and his wife, how long would it be before people pitied Curt for being burdened with his spinster sister?

She shook her head. She would take care of herself. By herself.

Water bubbled from the spout of the teakettle and sputtered on the stovetop. She stepped into the pantry and brought out a glass jar containing a special jasmine tea mixture that she used when she needed to focus her thoughts. After measuring leaves into a white porcelain teapot, she poured hot water over them, savoring the perfume-like fragrance of jasmine flowers.

Bodie had wriggled behind the cookstove and lay there panting with contentment. The sable patch around his left eye gave him a mischievous appearance. Rosemary grinned. As long as she had her watchdog, she’d stay right where she was. If the Lord wanted her to have a husband, he’d send someone her way. And if not, she believed he’d show her how to support herself without burdening her brother.

The dog stirred and pricked one ear up. Growling, he crawled out from his retreat and darted to the front door. His deep barks shattered the fragile peace.

Elijah Stewart took a step away from the door. From the sound of the barking, Miss Saxon must keep bulldogs in her sitting room. Footsteps approached. In a moment the door opened a crack and she peeked out at him.

“Dr. Stewart?” Her voice rose to an incredulous pitch. “What are you doing here?” Face reddening, she stepped back, motioning him to enter. “I mean, I didn’t expect to see you.”

A sable and white dog stood at her side eyeing him, hackles raised. The animal looked smaller than his bark. He held the back of his hand toward the dog’s nose, then moved with caution into the closet-like entryway. A flight of enclosed stairs rose directly in front of him. To the right, a lamp burned on a table in the tidy sitting room.

Miss Saxon gestured toward a pair of cushioned chairs beneath the front window. “Please, sit.”

He removed his hat and settled onto one of the chairs. She opened the curtains, then remained on her feet, facing him. Surprised, he raised an eyebrow. “Am I to be on display?”

“I’m alone here. It’s not proper for me to entertain a gentleman caller. With the curtains open, anyone can see we’re not behaving in an unseemly fashion. It’s a beastly night, or we would have talked on the porch.”

“You didn’t tell me you lived alone.”

“You didn’t ask,” she said, with a testy edge to her voice.

Prickly women made him nervous. Turning his hat in his hands, he surveyed her plain wool dress. So she didn’t spend her days dressed in silks—that much was to her credit. “I stopped by a bit earlier, but no one was home. I apologize for not leaving my card.”

She nodded. “As I said, I didn’t expect you at all after our meeting. I’ve had no opportunity to contact my supervisor.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I thought not. Well, thank you for hearing me out this morning. I wish I could offer you some refreshment before you leave, but I’ve only just returned from town.” She moved toward the door.

He shook his head at her haste to send him away. “Do you always jump to conclusions?”

“Pardon?”

“I came here to tell you I’m willing to give you a try as a nurse in my practice. Of course, most of the time you’ll be occupied with duties other than nursing. Preparing medications, keeping records current, tidying the office.” He waved a hand. “Things like that.”

Miss Saxon left the doorway and sank onto the chair facing him. “Tidying the office? You want a housekeeper, not a nurse.”

Elijah ran his finger under his too-tight collar. Definitely a prickly woman. Her words about being present when he saw female patients had convinced him he needed her help, but if she was going to work for him, she needed to understand who was in charge.

“Miss Saxon, as you no doubt experienced at Jefferson Barracks, nurses were called upon to do everything from writing letters to changing soiled linens and scrubbing floors. If you’re willing to perform those same duties in my office, you’re hired.” He rose and replaced his hat. “I’ll expect you at half past eight on Monday morning. If you have any qualms, then I wish you well in your future endeavors. Good evening.”