Ginny Aiken (29 page)

As Letty’s last patient left, Randy called a greeting from the kitchen.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” she answered. “I’m tidying the examining room.”

The impulsive Randy joined her instead. Noting the redhead’s expanding girth, Letty reached out and patted her middle. “Growing well, wouldn’t you say, Mama?”

“I couldn’t be happier.” Then her smile crumpled. “Oh, I do so wish you and Eric—”

“Hush.”

Letty turned to avoid her friend’s gaze. After yesterday’s confrontation with Hartville’s men, she’d finally accepted Eric’s rejection. She shuddered and again asked God to heal her heart. Then, digging deep for strength, she blinked hard, refusing to spend another minute nursing her wounds. She’d started the morning with Scripture and refreshed faith in Christ. He promised and she believed that He would see her through. Besides, she had a visitor.

“How may I help you?” she asked Randy.

“I didn’t come for help. Douglas told me what happened at Eric’s ranch. How could they just ignore civility and treat you like that?”

She shrugged. “As you said, Douglas was there, too. Won’t he be scandalized to learn you’re here with me?”

“On the contrary. He urged me to come see how you were.”

Letty arched an eyebrow.

“Really. He went with the others because he’s a lawyer. The mayor has asked him to help with the children’s adoption.”

“He didn’t say a word the whole time.”

“What did you want him to do? Turn the scene into a brawl? From what he said, he kept Eric from pounding Dr. Medford into a pulp.”

“What about the hypocrites who fight me and talk about closing the houses but haven’t done so yet? Did you know they make use of the attractions at the brothels?”

Randy sniffed. “I’ll have you know Douglas would never frequent those places, and if he even entertained the notion, I’d incapacitate him. Permanently.”

“Oh, dear heart,” Letty said on a sigh. “I wasn’t condemning your husband. Not all men indulge in those vices, but I can’t excuse the ones who keep Bessie in business. The bordellos’ clients don’t want their playgrounds closed or the girls otherwise employed.”

Randy shrugged.

“What happened, happened. I’ll keep caring for my patients and helping any child who needs me. Especially the Pattersons, Daisy, and Mim. My morals can withstand what scrutiny the town gives them. I won’t stop doing what God’s put in my heart to do.”

“I don’t expect you to, and knowing what I know now, I want to do more,” Randy said, surprising Letty. “We need to see if there are more girls like Mim and Daisy in those houses. Then we’ll need a scheme to get them away.”

The back door opened. “I wouldn’t call it a scheme,” Adele Stone said, entering. “Strategy is the better term.”

Letty took Mrs. Stone’s wrap. “You’re ready to help me even after yesterday’s confrontation?”

“I’m not simply going to help, I’m determined we will succeed. As Randy just said, we must find any additional children who might be in the brothels, and we must free Daisy from Bessie’s control.”

Letty’s eyes teared. “Although I have everything I need in
Christ, I still felt alone through the night. I felt I’d let down those who brought me here.”

Mrs. Stone laid an arm around Letty’s shoulders. “My sweet, as the pastor always says, when one goes about God’s work, Satan sets up great barriers, but if one abides by the Father, He will draw together like-minded brethren. Silver Creek Church stands with you.”

Letty released a relieved sigh that was part laugh, part sob, part hiccup. “Even if you lose your parishioners?”

“Are they truly in the Father’s flock with their hardened, judgmental hearts? We must not fret but commend them to the Holy Spirit. We must speak with my husband, plan our strategy, and work diligently for our Savior.”

Letty and her visitors stepped outside. Randy and Adele were truly staunch friends who made up for those fair-weather companions who had abandoned her when she challenged the masculine bastion of medicine back in Philadelphia. Perhaps, despite her heartbreak and the scandal sparked by her convictions, God had really brought her home.

Here she’d found the friends she’d longed for.

In Hartville, God had gifted her with love.

“Randy Carlson, I can’t condone the murder of pregnant ladies. When Douglas learns what you’re doing, murder will be his first response.”

“Oh, hush,” Randy shot back.

“Look,” Letty said, “we didn’t come to argue. But I do wonder if I’m not too gullible. I don’t know how you persuaded me to come haunt East Crawford Street’s back alleys.”

“Of course you know. We can’t send Douglas, Eric, or Pastor Stone to ask an establishment if it offers children unlawfully and then have the men gather up the youngsters and bring them home.”

Letty tightened her shawl. “You’re right, but I don’t like this part of our strategy, especially since neither Pastor nor Mrs. Stone knows what we’re doing.”

The shrub in the alley behind the targeted emporium offered dubious camouflage. Letty hoped no one happened by while they were there. Then she heard an argument coming from one of the upstairs windows in Bessie’s Barn. A familiar voice demanded, “Bessie, how could you?”

“Daisy,” Letty whispered in dismay.

The madam answered, “Business, kid, and I do the business here.”

“It’s a rotten business, Bess,” the girl countered. “Those little kids have nowhere to go, and you didn’t even need the money.”

The crack of a slap elicited Daisy’s cry. Letty took steps toward the brothel. Randy held her back.

Bessie went on. “Don’t tell me what I need or don’t. You jus’ keep doin’ what you gets paid to.”

Letty cringed at Bessie’s crudeness. She tugged against Randy’s restraint, ready to drag Daisy away no matter what the girl had to say about the matter.

But Daisy fought back, her voice defiant. “Still, Bess, it’s wrong. You and that . . . that man . . . of yours, you have so much money, I don’t see what you want with more. The kiddies have nothing, not even a father anymore.”

Letty tipped up her chin. She was not leaving without Daisy. A glance showed her Randy’s equal determination. She nodded; Randy nodded back. They marched up to the back door, but the sound of a scuffle upstairs stopped them cold.

“Who’re you tellin’ what’s right and what ain’t? I’ll teach ya to talk back at me. Who fed ya when you was so hungry you was eatin’ garbage? Who gave ya work to keep on eatin’? Just who gives you a place to live? Remember that, Daisy, and get back to work. Itchy miners don’t hold to no hours. Go on, I said. Get back to work.”

Wood crashed against wood. Daisy cried out again.

“I won’t,” she sobbed. “Not anymore, Bessie. I can’t do it again. I’d rather eat garbage than face another client. I’m leaving. You and your man can beat me till I die, because I’d rather be dead than be like you.”

Bessie roared her rage. Letty turned to Randy. “I’ll go out front. You stay here. We can’t let Daisy run away.”

Randy stepped closer to the door, and Letty ran around the building. Realizing how she must look, she slowed her pace and prayed she wasn’t too late. As she reached the street in front of the bordello, she saw Ford walking toward her. Not wanting to be detected, she ducked behind a bush at the corner of the building. A moment later, a disheveled Daisy burst from the brothel’s swinging doors and plowed into Ford.

The silver-framed spectacles flew off the reporter’s face. His decrepit hat toppled to the ground, gaining a grubby new look. A pen slipped from somewhere and landed at their feet. Daisy lifted her tear-stained face. She blushed as the dumbstruck Ford stared at her. “Excuse me, miss, but are you all right?”

Daisy’s blush deepened. “I’m so sorry, sir. I was . . . distraught. It’s all my fault.”

“Nonsense,” the reporter answered, clearly enchanted by the pretty girl in his arms. “I should have paid more attention where I was going.”

“You’re too kind.”

“And you’re in need of assistance. Where shall I escort you?”

Daisy eased out of Ford’s embrace. She looked around and then examined her companion’s earnest expression. Letty recognized the look dawning on the girl’s face. It looked much the way she felt in Eric’s presence. Could Ford hold the key to Daisy’s restoration?

“I . . . I don’t rightly know. Oh! Perhaps . . .” Her voice trailed off. Then she straightened. “Yes. I’m on my way to Dr. Morgan’s home. I’d be delighted if you would escort me there.”

Letty hurried home, thanksgiving for God’s answer to her prayer singing in her heart.

Five days after Daisy escaped from Bessie, Letty treated another controversial patient. She followed her conscience and put her medical training to good use.

“That’ll do, Mr. Abrams,” she said, securing a bandage on the workman’s lacerated arm. Another accident, another patient—another male patient—and she’d been the nearest doctor.

“Thank you, Doc Morgan. I know yore mostly a wimen’s doctor, but I knows you fixed up Eric Wagner’s leg real good. I was bleedin’ like a pig, and I figgered you was closest.”

Gathering her scissors and bandage scraps, Letty smiled. “I can sew a cut on a man, woman, or child. I’ll treat anyone who needs my help.”

The burly carpenter slipped his injured arm in his jacket sleeve. “Pride’s too costly, ma’am, and yore a right fine doctor. How much I owe you?”

Letty named a sum, Mr. Abrams paid her, and she walked him out. “If you see any red streaking or if the flesh around the wound becomes hot, come back right away. Otherwise, just use common sense.”

“Common sense tells me some’s not gonna be happy with a right good lady doctor in town. No, ma’am, and one as charges fair at that. Thank you kindly, miss.”

Letty mulled over her patient’s parting comment. The town was up in arms about her crusade to rescue the young soiled doves, but what had Mr. Abrams meant about her charging people fairly? Had someone accused her of bilking patients? Had she done something else to cause trouble? Surely not.

“Share them with me,” Eric said, startling Letty with his sudden arrival.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your thoughts. They seem to have you in thrall.”

Letty waved in a helpless gesture. “It’s just that . . . well, I stitched up a nasty cut on a carpenter’s arm, and before he left, he made some odd remarks.”

Eric stood straighter. “Did he offend you?”

“No, no. Quite the opposite. He paid me a compliment, but then he mentioned those who resent a woman doctor and added that I charge fairly for my services.”

Eric shifted more weight onto his cane.

“Oh, dear,” Letty said. “Do come in. I’ve kept you standing out here too long. Come, take a seat in the waiting room.”

She followed Eric, keeping a close eye on his limp. Satisfied by his progress, she didn’t question the wisdom of his being out.

In the parlor-cum-waiting room, she made certain to keep the length of the room between them.

“I’m afraid your patient’s right,” Eric said, propping the walking stick on his good thigh. “News travels fast in Hartville. On my way here, I heard from three interested parties that you had treated another man. Two of the newsbearers were pleasant, if not thrilled by your actions. The third, however, was irate.”

“What should I do, Eric? Turn away an injured person?”

Eric raised his arms in surrender. “I’ve warned you plenty, so I won’t tell you what to do. You’ll have to act on your conscience.”

Letty clasped her hands in her lap and then cocked her head. “Very well,” she said, “warn me again. What mustn’t I do? And why?”

“I’ll answer your last question first. Dr. Medford—he is why. He has taken your actions personally, not only your efforts on the girls’ behalf but also your treating men.”

“Why would helping two girls bother him? And I’ve only treated the man with gall troubles and Mr. Abrams today.”

“And me.”