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Cowboy Creek Christmas: Mistletoe Reunion

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Жанр
Год написания книги
2019
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Opal looked pleased. “I’ll show you the styles we have.”

Marlys chose a style, and Opal wrote notes for her husband.

Baby Richard had fallen asleep in her arms, and Marlys took a moment to admire his downy hair and tiny rosebud lips. What had Sam’s son looked like as an infant? She imagined wispy black hair and round cheeks.

“Your first pair should be ready in less than a week.”

Marlys looked from the baby to the eyes of the new mother. She remembered what Aunt Mae had said about people trusting her if she made friends. Her heart beat faster against the weight of the baby, but she opened her mouth to speak. “It’s a lot to get used to caring for a new baby, isn’t it?”

“It is, but he’s a blessing.”

“If you come by my office, I’d love to prepare a mineral bath for you. Just to relax for an hour or so. I’ll make a bed for Richard, or I’ll hold him. My treat.”

Opal’s brown eyes showed her surprise, but also appreciation. “Thank you, Dr. Boyd. I’ve heard only good things about your mineral bath treatments from Pippa.”

Marlys stood and, after another tender look at the baby, handed Richard to his mother, then laced up her boots. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that difficult to make friends. It would be nice to feel accepted—and a little less alone. “I’ll check back next week.”

“If they’re finished sooner, I’ll bring your boots to you.”

Marlys smiled and headed back to her office.

* * *

The first edition of the Webster County Daily News came off the press the following day. Sam and Israel folded, stacked and bundled papers. The sun came out as though in celebration of the big day. Accompanied by August, the three of them traveled the streets of Cowboy Creek, where melting snow formed ruts of oozing mud. Sam cleaned his boots on the iron scraper in front of Remmy Hagermann’s mercantile. He’d already made arrangements with as many stores as possible to keep a stack of newspapers until he replaced any old ones with new.

Remmy greeted him with a smile and a wave. “The first edition, eh?”

“It’s here.”

“I’m looking forward to actual news. Our last newspaperman skewed everything to make situations look bleak. We all figured it out too late. He was undermining the town for his own cause. We’re glad to have you. You’re a newspaper legend. When we learned you were coming to Kansas, I ordered a couple dozen copies of your book, and they all sold.”

“Much obliged, Mr. Hagermann.”

Remmy picked up the top newspaper and read the headlines. One eyebrow climbed his forehead. “‘Cowboy Creek’s First Female Doctor Sees Results with Progressive Medicine.’ The Boyd woman, I reckon.”

“Yes, Dr. Boyd is a most interesting woman.”

“I heard she learned Chinese medicine at a peculiar university.”

He had his own doubts about her education and practices, but he would stay neutral. “You’ll find the article about her education informative. She’s quite forthcoming about her beliefs. And statistically, the Chinese are remarkably healthy.”

Remmy glanced up from the paper and eyed Sam. “Yeah?”

“I’ll be doing another article in a couple of weeks. After reading about her you may find that many of her treatments are more logical and humane than commonly accepted practices. Cowboy Creek is growing. There’s more than one mercantile. I suppose there’s enough patients for two or more doctors.”

Remmy had opened his mercantile after Zimmerman’s and cleverly catered to women to attract a good share of customers. He didn’t argue with Sam’s reasoning. Instead he looked over the other articles. “Like I said, nice to have a paper again. Suppose I’ll run an advertisement in the next one.”

“I’ll give you a discount on your first ad,” Sam assured him.

Remmy glanced through the front window at August waiting on the boardwalk. “That your boy?”

“Yes, that’s August.”

“Works with you on the paper, does he?”

“Mostly he’s adjusting to a new school. Hannah Johnson watches him a couple of afternoons until I finish work.”

“Reverend Taggart’s daughter, the dressmaker?”

“That’s right. I was surprised when Hannah offered to take August for a few hours a week, but I’m grateful.” Sam headed for the door. “Come see me for that ad.”

Sam pulled the cart holding papers over the muddy ruts, and Israel joined them. He had taken papers to the railroad station. The three made their way north on Lincoln Boulevard, so they would pass Dr. Boyd’s office on their way back to Eden Street. August grabbed a paper, and Sam pushed open the door, which rang a bell. Israel followed.

A pleasant mixture of unusual smells hung in the air. A row of plain wood chairs lined one wall, all empty. A large rug, obviously new, covered the varnished wood floor in the waiting area.

Marlys stepped from an open doorway to greet them. “Good morning.”

August extended the newspaper he held.

“We brought you a paper so you could see the article,” Sam explained. “Israel, meet Dr. Boyd. This is Israel, my journeyman.”

Marlys leaned toward the young man. Israel removed his heavy glove and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor.”

“My pleasure. Let me grab a coin so I can pay you.”

“No, this one’s complimentary,” Sam said quickly.

“Thank you.” She unfolded the paper and studied the front page. She couldn’t have missed the caption about her practice, but she read aloud another. “‘President Johnson Proclaims a Day of Praise, Thanksgiving and Prayer.’” She glanced up at him. “It sounds like Andrew Johnson believes our country has turned a corner, politically, economically. He’s giving people permission to hope again.”

Sam nodded. “In his proclamation he talks about the abundance of jobs, crops, harmony in this country.”

Marlys read aloud, “‘I therefore recommend that Thursday, the 26th day of November next, be set apart and observed by all people of the United States as a day for public praise, thanksgiving, and prayer to the Almighty Creator and Divine Ruler of the Universe, by whose ever-watchful, merciful, and gracious providence alone states and nations, no less than families and individual men, do live and move and have their being.’”

“What does it mean, Papa?”

Sam looked into his son’s curious blue eyes. “It means even though we’ve been through a lot as a country, losing family and friends in war, that we have a lot to be thankful for. Like our freedom. So there will be one day set aside when everyone is thankful together.”

“The town is putting together a celebration. Mrs. Kendricks suggested I volunteer for the committee,” she said. “Perhaps it’s not a bad idea. I do need to meet people, so they will learn to trust me.”

“That’s good advice. I made up my mind to delve into town projects and affairs as soon as I arrived, so people learn to see me as one of their own.”

“While you’re here,” she said, “I’ve made something for you. Follow me.”

She turned and left them standing.

Chapter Four (#u68f9dd3b-8a08-5054-847e-a9a9f8ae97d1)

“I’ll wait here,” Israel said.
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