A Nurse for Clark Page 3

  Zoe nodded without looking up. “I’ll be ready.”

  Three

  Clark glanced irritably at his pocket watch. Nearly ten o’clock and still no sign of her. He’d clearly stated to be ready at eight. He’d already tended to four patients. More would pour in before the noon-hour and then he needed to make his scheduled house calls.

  He strove to quell his rising frustration.

  She’d had a long journey, the girl was likely exhausted, perhaps he should have given her the day off. Or, maybe, she was little more than a spoiled southern belle who lounged in bed for half the day. He growled under his breath with that thought. Or… maybe she’d left. Gone back to the ship to return east.

  With that last notion, he shot to his feet and bolted through the door. “Miss Blye!” He took the stairs two at a time, all but running to her room. Anger twisted his gut with the certainty she’d slipped away in the night without a word. He should have known forgiveness was impossible after what he’d done to her all those years ago. “Nurse Blye!” Without thinking, he exploded into her room.

  “Oh!” Miss Blye cried out and dropped a hairpin onto the floor. Blue fire flashed in her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  Clark froze in the doorway. “Y-you’re still here.” Shock and relief flowed through him, cooling his frustration with her tardiness.

  “Of course I’m here.” She glared at him. “Where else would I be?”

  “The boat,” he blurted. “When you didn’t come down on time this morning…”

  Understanding washed over her pretty features. “You thought I’d left.” She shook her head, and smoothed her hands over the serviceable white apron covering her dark gray skirt. “I overslept. It’s so quiet here, and I didn’t sleep well on the riverboat.” She bent down to lift the errant hair pin, and stabbed it into her simple chignon. “I fell asleep when the sun was still up and woke when it had risen again.” She drew a deep breath. “Rest assured, Dr. West, I would never leave without giving proper notice.” Her cheeks reddened a shade. “I apologize for being late my very first day.”

  “I—” He struggled for coherent thought, his irritation with her all but evaporating. “Think nothing of it,” he said finally. He backed into the hallway. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you a moment to finish getting ready.”

  “There’s no need. I’m late enough already.” She squared her shoulders and strode past him into the hall. “Please don’t write to Nurse Harrow and tell her I was late my very first day.”

  Clark scoffed wryly. “So long as you don’t write to tell her I barged unannounced into your bedroom. She’d never send me another nurse.”

  Zoe flashed him a conspiratorial glance over her shoulder. “Deal.”

  A glimmer of hope lit inside him. Perhaps there was hope for their partnership after all.

  The morning remained steady, but not overly busy. Primarily Zoe held back and allowed him to explain how he liked things to be done, and where to find medicines and supplies. Around noon, Sam Roberts brought in his ten-year-old son, Clayton, with a broken left wrist. Zoe proved to be more than competent with splinting.

  Their first day ended uneventfully with Zoe retiring early with a medical textbook. The days bled into a week, and then a second, each day ending much like the one before. Thus far Zoe proved to be hardworking and organized. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and she completed every task without question. She had a lovely disposition with the patients and her syrupy drawl never failed to set people at ease. Unfortunately, that sweetness never extended to Clark. She was civil to him, perfectly well mannered, but she scarcely spoke to him unless it pertained to work.

  He understood her distance. She knew the truth about him. He was a monster. In Fort Benton, where no one else knew his past, he could pretend to be the kindly country doctor, but Zoe knew better. She knew, as Clark did, that nothing could absolve his evils from the war. Even so, he was determined to do what he could to ease the grievous wrong of leaving her homeless all those years ago, and this evening, he intended to take a chance.

  He carried a new leather bound book under his arm and quickly located Zoe in the parlor. She painted a lovely picture settled in the armed leather chair beside the hearth. A book lay open in her lap, her eyes cast down, a simple dark braid plaited over one shoulder. She held herself with perfect poise and posture, her perfectly crafted features schooled in a vise of focus. For a moment he simply took her in. She was extremely beautiful, a man would have to be blind not to notice, and word of the pretty southern lady turned nurse had swept through Fort Benton. The number of visits for minor injuries and ailments in the local male population had markedly increased over the last two weeks.

  After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “What are you reading?”

  She glanced up, expression placid and thoroughly unengaging. “An anatomy text.” She pointedly turned her attention back to the book and pulled her braid over the shoulder nearest him as though creating a physical barrier.

  Clark refused to take the hint. He strode determinedly into the room. “I have a new book here,” he said amiably. “It arrived this afternoon, about medical botany.”

  She glanced up, a glimmer of interest betraying her sedate expression.

  “I’ve asked Mrs. Carter to make some coffee. I thought we’d study it together this evening.”

  She closed the volume on her lap and leaned forward on her chair. “I find the healing properties of certain plants to be quite fascinating. Mama and I got quite good at finding and preparing herbs during the war.”

  “Oh?” He pulled up a chair beside hers, encouraged that she seemed to be opening up.

  “We were so short on medicines and supplies while the coast was blockaded that we had to learn about the local plants and forage for them. Botany is quite a fascinating science.”

  Clark smiled. “I quite agree. Is that what prompted your desire to pursue nursing?”

  She shook her head. “The decision to apply to the Harrow school had far more to do with necessity than interest.”

  Clark leaned forward and spoke softly. “However it came to pass, you seem to have quite a knack for the healing arts.”

  She met his gaze, her eyes softening at the compliment, and she smiled. Not a grin or a beaming ray of sunshine, just a small simple smile, but all the same, his heart warmed with the simple fact that she’d actually smiled… at him.

  ~*~

  Studying medicine or botany over coffee and tea, or discussing their current medical cases and patients became a regular evening ritual. As the days and nights grew cooler, Zoe’s favorite place was the chair closest to the fireplace. She kept the parlor so stiflingly hot that Clark had begun to tease her about it. She took it quite good naturedly and protested on more than one occasion that she didn’t know why people settled in such cold places at all. Clark suspected she’d return to warmer climes at some point, and he wondered why exactly she’d come west in the first place. Overall, however, he was pleased with the progress he’d made with Zoe and there were moments when he believed the two of them might actually become friends. At present, friends would be too generous a word, but at least she no longer seemed to despise him.

  “Clark?” Mrs. Carter tapped on his study door, interrupting his thoughts.

  He glanced up at his kindly housekeeper. “Yes?”

  “I found this letter on the front porch.” She entered the room and handed him a folded piece of paper.

  “It’s not addressed.” Clark turned it over. “Did you see who left it?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Clark unfolded the note. “Thank you, Mrs. Carter.”

  “Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

  “I’m almost finished here,” he said dismissively.

  “And what of Nurse Blye? Is she out on a house call?”

  “She’s here. Just finishing up in the clinic.”

  “Would you fetch her please?”

  “Certainly,” Clark
replied, still holding the unread missive in his hand.

  Mrs. Carter lingered beside his desk, running her fingers along the edge.

  He looked at her pointedly. “Is there anything else?”

  A little smile toyed with the older woman’s mouth. “Have you mentioned the upcoming harvest festival to Nurse Blye yet?”

  “I have not,” Clark immediately looked down, and made a point of keeping his expression bored and disinterested. He dared not encourage Mrs. Carter in her matchmaking schemes.

  “Oh, Clark, but you must. It will be a great opportunity for her to mingle with the community.”

  He dropped the note on the desk in front of him and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then I suggest you take her. I have no interest in attending.”

  Mrs. Carter scowled at him. “Well, if you don’t ask her to the festival, I’m sure another young man will. There’s been no shortage of interest in our Nurse Blye since her arrival. She’ll find a husband before the year is out, mark my words.”

  “You do realize that if she finds a beau and marries, she’ll leave us and we’ll be right back where we started without a nurse.”

  Mrs. Carter flashed him a cheeky grin. “Precisely why you should ask her to the festival.”

  Clark hung his head on his shoulders. His meddling housekeeper was impossible. “I’ll consider it,” he acquiesced.

  “Wonderful!” Mrs. Carter clasped her hands with glee and finally left the room.

  Not that Zoe would ever agree to accompany him. Maybe he should tell Mrs. Carter of his history with Zoe. Then she’d realize a romantic future between them was hopeless. He sighed and lifted the unaddressed note from atop the desk. He flipped it open again and read the extremely brief message.

  It seems you’re occupied. I’ll return later. You know what it’s about.

  How very strange. Clark turned the page over again. No signature. No indication of who it was from. A patient perhaps? Someone looking to return for follow up when the clinic wasn’t busy? That must be it. He tossed the page aside and went in search of Zoe.

  He found her in the clinic stocking freshly rolled bandages. She hummed softly to herself, breaking into a few words of song every so often. He leaned against the doorjamb, hesitating before he alerted her to his presence.

  He liked her.

  She was intelligent and rather witty, extremely organized, and she never complained—other than about the cold night air—though she still flashed him haughty looks now and again. He supposed she couldn’t help it after being raised in the lap of privilege and luxury. All the same, he respected the fact she’d evolved and found a new way in life through hard work.

  She swayed to the song as she worked, and drew his attention to the gentle swish of her hips. His gaze slid from her hips to the slender arch of her waist before drifting to linger on the graceful curve of her neck. Tendrils of glossy dark hair dripped from the loosely pinned twist at the back of her head and grazed her milky white skin. Clark’s fingers burned with the urge to brush those stray locks away from her neck and in so doing stroke her enticing skin. More than like… he was growing quite attracted to her.

  He clenched his fists.

  She’d never let him touch her. Aside from their evening study sessions over tea, Zoe kept to herself, and deep down—despite recent progress—Clark knew it was because she didn’t trust him. How could she?

  He cleared his throat. “Are you about through here?”

  Zoe set the last bandage roll on the shelf and turned. Her eyes locked with his, and all but took his breath away. Gentle warmth shimmered in her pale eyes. It was one of those rare looks that lead him to hope the two of them might one day bury the past. “Did you need something, Doctor?”

  “Oh, uh,” he jerked a thumb toward the door, staring dumbly at her, momentarily at a loss for words. “Mrs. Carter said dinner is ready.”

  “It seems the work is never finished, but I suppose I can steal away for supper.” She lifted the white apron over her head and hung it on her hook. She then plucked a book from the shelf and held it out to him. “Tonight I thought we’d review medicinal herbs specific to the Montana Territory. With cooler weather coming it might be wise for us to forage for roots and herbs to stock up for the winter.”

  He elected to capitalize on her good mood. “An excellent idea, Nurse Blye. The evening is quite fine, would you care to go after dinner?”

  A bolt of nervousness flickered across her face, but ultimately she flashed a friendly smile. “I’d like that, Doctor. Thank you.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back, and rocked back on his heels. “You know we work very closely together. You’re quite welcome to call me Clark.”

  She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and glanced away. He’d swear of hint of color pinked her cheeks. She flicked her eyes back to him and cleared her throat. “Did Mrs. Carter mention what’s for dinner?”

  Disappointment washed through him as she bee-lined for the door. On impulse he grabbed her upper arm as she passed.

  She startled and looked up to him with her big blue eyes.

  “Nurse Blye… Zoe, I hope one day you’ll see me as something other than a monster.”

  She stared up at him, her beautiful face searching his. Her full, rose hued lips parted as though to whisper in response, but a hearty rap on the clinic door interrupted the moment.

  “Dr. West!”

  He and Zoe leapt apart as the door burst inward, admitting a young blond woman.

  Clark suppressed the urge to groan. Madeline Kent. She was overdue for some contrived visit or another. She must be the author of that cryptic note. He should have realized it straight away. “What can we help you with, Miss Kent?”

  Madeline stopped short and glared at Zoe. “We?”

  “Yes. Allow me to introduce you to my nurse, Miss Zoe Blye.” He motioned between Zoe and Madeline. “Nurse Blye, this is Miss Madeline Kent. Her father is a merchant in Fort Benton.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Zoe drawled pleasantly.

  “A nurse you say,” Madeline dragged a skeptical gaze the length of Zoe. “When did this come about?”

  “I arrived a few weeks ago.”

  “But I sent for her long before that.”

  Madeline pouted prettily. “If you wanted help, why not ask around for a local girl? I would have been more than happy to work as your nurse.”

  Precisely why he hadn’t asked locally. “Miss Blye is a formally trained nurse, you see. I hired her from the Harrow School of Nursing back east.”

  A spark of genuine interest lit in Madeline’s eyes. “A nursing school? How interesting.”

  “What brings you in today, Miss Kent?” Clark hoped to hurry along her visit. He’d tried everything short of blatant rudeness to deter the girl’s interest. Nothing worked. She and her mother seemed intent on snaring him as a husband. Even if Clark had an interest in finding a wife, Madeline Kent was far too young. She couldn’t be a day over seventeen, and at thirty and two, he was near twice her age.

  “Mamma is having difficulty sleeping.” She turned her simpering blue eyes fully onto him, ignoring Zoe entirely. “She sent me to fetch a remedy.”

  Perturbed by Miss Kent’s deliberate incivility toward Zoe, Clark extended an arm to his nurse. “Miss Blye, what would you recommend.”

  Zoe’s impeccable manners never faltered. “Valerian root.”

  Clark nodded approvingly. “An excellent choice. I quite agree.”

  Without a word Zoe crossed to the medicine cabinet and efficiently plucked the jar of valerian root from the top shelf. She quickly packed the medicine in an envelope and presented it to Madeline. “Steep this to make a tea and have your mother drink it half an hour before bedtime,” she drawled. “It should help her to sleep.”

  Madeline kept her gaze fixed on Clark as she accepted the bag. “Thank you,” she said icily.

  Zoe glanced between them, clearly uncomfortable.


  “Right then,” Clark said, brusquely. “Mrs. Carter will be quite discontent if we’re late for dinner. Come Miss Kent, Nurse Blye and I will show you out.”

  Madeline pouted prettily, clearly upset that she hadn’t cornered him alone today. “Perhaps you should come by and examine Mamma properly tomorrow.”

  “Yes, of course.” He ushered her toward the door. “I’ll send Nurse Blye around later in the week so we can see how the treatment is working.”

  Madeline fixed him with an absolutely lethal glare as he steered her through the door.

  “Good night, Miss Kent. Best wishes to your mother.” He slammed the door and struck the lock for good measure. The cryptic note she’d left on the porch had him on edge.

  Zoe raised a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll send Nurse Blye around?” She strode past him, clearly peeved. “And you want me to see you as something other than a monster.”

  Four

  After a hearty dinner of pheasant and potatoes Zoe gathered a woven basket and went in search of Mrs. Carter.

  “Susan, I’m going for a walk to gather some herbs.”

  “It’s a fine evening for it. The morning was so cold I never imagined the day would turn out so warm.”

  Zoe smiled. “Nor I.”

  “Would you gather some wild flowers and colored leaves while you’re out? I need to make wreaths and center pieces for the harvest festival this weekend.”

  “Of course, and I’ll help you make them tomorrow if there is time.” Doing something artistic and creative sounded heavenly.

  Basket in hand, she ventured out of the house and down the walk. She fleetingly wondered if she should seek out Dr. West. He’d been utterly silent during dinner, and she knew it was because she’d snapped at him after Miss Kent’s visit.

  I hope one day you’ll see me as something other than a monster… His words echoed in her mind as did the torment reflected in his eyes.

  “If you don’t want me to see you as a monster, don’t throw me to the wolves,” she muttered to herself.