Читать книгу Klondike Medicine Woman - Linda Ford - Страница 11

Jacob strode toward the waterfront, as if he needed to put out a fire. Anger burned through his veins. He fought for control. He did not want a shaman hanging about his clinic. If his brother had received real medical help he would likely be alive still.

Jacob had tried to convince Aaron not to go north seeking gold, but once Aaron made up his mind to do something he refused to listen to reason. He’d been the same since he was a child.

He searched through the crowds. Where was Burns? He’d agreed to help with the construction of the clinic, though it wasn’t the building he was concerned about as much as Burns’s safety.

He went as far as the beginning of the trail without a sign of Burns. Surely the boy wouldn’t head up there on his own.

Jacob sighed. The boy would do anything that entered his mind, without regard for the consequences. If only Jacob could instill a little sense of responsibility in him before he made a foolish decision. He realized his desire sprang not only out of concern about Burns, but also from a wish that he could have prevented Aaron from a choice that lead ultimately to his death.

He spun on his heel and took a slightly different route, hoping to locate Burns among the throng, but he passed the place he’d started without any sign of the boy. He pressed onward. Again he reached the end of the beach, and saw a trail leading through the trees and followed it. A few hundred yards later, the path opened to a clearing with several wooden structures, each with a narrow, low door but no windows. Smoke drifted from one building.

The place was quiet. Peaceful. No gold seekers here. A movement caught his attention. A man sat in the sunshine, a basketlike hat on his head. The man was an elderly native. Was this where Teena’s family lived? It suited her. He could imagine her quiet and serene in this setting. Nothing seemed to ruffle her. Not even his rudeness. He considered himself a gentle, refined man, and yet something about her brought from him harsh, unkind words. It didn’t make sense.

Suddenly, he realized his patients were alone while he stared at an old man rocking in the sunshine. He turned and rushed back through the crowds, seeing nothing of Burns as he trotted to the clinic. Already the walls began to take shape. The three women worked side by side. Margie turned to Teena and laughed.

He slowed momentarily, wishing he knew what Teena said. Then he dismissed such foolishness and hurried on.

He didn’t notice Burns until he reached the boardwalk. The boy sat cross-legged on the ground, playing with a pup. When he saw Jacob he jumped up, clutching the pup in his arms.

“Look what I got.”

Jacob jerked to a stop. “A dog?”

“Some man gave it to me. Said he didn’t want to drag around a useless pup. Isn’t he sweet?” Burns scrubbed the animal’s ears and gave Jacob pleading eyes.

Aaron had once dragged home a sorry-looking pup and begged to keep it. He’d spent hours with the animal, but it wasn’t healthy, and died despite everyone’s efforts. Aaron had cried. He’d cursed God when Mother and Father couldn’t hear him. Said it was unfair. Jacob had been powerless to help either the sick pup or his heartbroken brother.

“He looks like he’d grow to the size of a horse. I think you’d better take him back.” His words, fueled by a thousand regrets and a lifetime of sorrow over his brother, were harsher than he intended.

Burns drew back. The three women stopped work to watch the proceedings.

“I aim to keep him. I’ll move to the beach if you won’t have him here.”

Jacob could not imagine how the boy would survive out there. In about two days he would be starving, and if anything like Aaron, too proud to admit his mistake. “Who will feed him? And you?”

Burns’s expression revealed his worry about food. After all, food, and plenty of it, were essential for growing boys and…Jacob sighed…and growing dogs. He didn’t want to do anything he’d live to regret, and he knew if he allowed Burns to stalk off in anger, he would regret it in the depths of his soul. He examined the pup. He’d at least make sure it was healthy before he gave his verdict. The pup’s fur was silky and thick. It glistened, indicating he’d been fed a good diet. Jacob lifted the pup’s lips and examined his mouth. The pup wriggled eagerly and tried to lick his hands. “He seems in good health.” The last thing he wanted was to watch another young man put through the pain of losing a pet. “I’ll make you a deal.” This was an opportunity to help the boy learn a little responsibility.

Burns brightened.

“I’ll let you keep the dog here on one condition.”

“I’ll do anything. Just name it.”

Burns had already agreed to work on the clinic, but seemed to have forgotten. Perhaps this would add a needed incentive to get him more involved. “Work on the clinic as you agreed.”

Burns nodded. “Then he can stay?”

“I would expect you to work hard. Help build the clinic and give me a hand with the patients.”

Burns looked agreeable until Jacob mentioned the patients. “I ain’t never taken care of a sick person.” He sounded like he’d as soon starve to death.

“I will teach you.” He recalled Teena’s desire that he teach her. He tried not to glance at her, but couldn’t stop himself. Would she resent his offer to Burns? But she studied the ground and he couldn’t see her expression. For some reason, he wished things could be different. However, there was no way of changing the facts. What she wanted was impossible. She had no education. Likely couldn’t read. Trusted superstition rather than science for treatment, clung to her old ways. He forced his attention back to Burns. “Is it a deal?”

Burns nodded. “Deal.”

“Fine. Then tie the pup and come help me.”

Burns found a bit of rope and tied the pup to a stake. He spent considerable time patting the animal and reassuring it. If he gave Jacob’s patients half the attention he gave the dog, Jacob would have no cause for complaint.

He didn’t wait for Burns to finish with his pet, but ducked inside. Donald had rolled to his side, obviously feeling less pain. Good news there.

The other man breathed regularly but showed no sign of opening his eyes.

Jacob had finished his examination by the time Burns entered. As he explained what he expected from the boy, he heard the women talking as they worked. He couldn’t make out their words but recognized Teena’s musical, soft voice, a marked contrast to the heavier, heartier tones of the Tucker sisters.

He forced his mind back to the task of showing Burns how to check each man and care for any pressing personal needs.

Burns nodded, eager to earn the right to keep the dog, but shrinking back at the idea of touching either of the men.

Jacob tried to reassure him. “It’s only when I need to be away.” He would hang out a shingle today. People would realize they could come to him, but he would still have to tend to the sick and injured in their makeshift homes and on the trail.

“I’m going to name him Yukon. After the gold field.”

Jacob knew then and there that the dog would get more attention than any patients.

“I’m going to teach him all kinds of tricks.”

“Teach him to obey your commands. It’s the only way to keep him safe.”

Burns considered the suggestion. “Right. He will learn to sit, stay and follow. He’ll be a good dog.” He threw an arm across Jacob’s shoulders in an awkward hug. “You won’t be sorry. I promise.” The boy stepped back, embarrassed by his show of affection. “Can I go now?”

Jacob nodded. Burns dashed out. Jacob heard him talking to the dog and scrubbed at his chin. He was glad to be able to have a small part in bringing some happiness to the boy. From what Burns had told him, he knew the boy had lost his mother a number of years ago, and his father was cruel and neglectful. No wonder he was anxious to get to the gold fields. Jacob understood the hunt for gold was of minor importance to Burns. Escape was the foremost reason for the trip to Treasure Creek.

Teena’s soft voice reached him and Burns answered. He strained to hear what they said but couldn’t make it out. He tried to decide if he minded Burns and Teena striking up a friendship; he found he minded, but his reason didn’t make sense. He didn’t feel lonely. Didn’t wish he could enjoy a friendship with…

With a muttered sound of disgust he turned his attention back to his patients. He was here only to establish adequate medical care. Nothing more.

The next morning, he rose from his crowded quarters to the welcome noise of building. Somehow the pup had made it indoors and curled up beside Burns.

“Burns.”

The boy jerked to a sitting position, guilt flooding his gaze. “He was crying. He’s not used to being alone.” He wrapped a protective arm about the pup and received a generous licking.

Jacob struggled to contain his amusement at the eager affection between the two. But he must bear in mind his responsibility to his patients. “Nevertheless, this is a hospital for now, and animals aren’t allowed.”

Burns scrambled to his feet. “Come on, Yukon. Let’s go outside.”

Jacob wanted to call the pair back. Tell them to make themselves at home. Instead, he turned to the unconscious man, noted his eyes flickering. He tried to say something.

“Rest,” Jacob soothed. “You’re safe. I’m a doctor. I’ll take care of you.”

The man let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes.

It was a good sign. Relief filled Jacob’s lungs. He ducked outside, wishing he could share the good news about the patient with someone who understood. He saw Margie and Frankie and a third woman they introduced as their sister, Lucy—a gentler, softer version of the older two. But no Teena. “I thought Teena was going to help you.” He assured himself it wasn’t disappointment that made him sound so harsh and disapproving.

Margie and Frankie both considered him with dark, unreadable expressions, then Margie laughed. “Missing her, are you?”

He snorted. “It was just a comment.”

The pair roared with unexplainable laughter. Lucy looked baffled.

“Okay, Doc. If you say so. She’s gone up the trail to see if anyone needs her help.” Margie waved toward the Chilkoot. “Does it regular-like. Though I don’t understand why she should care about the people tearing up their land, and most of them rude to her on top of it.”

She’d gone up the trail again. Seems she was bent on practicing her form of medicine, even with a real medical doctor now available.

Concern for his fellow man was the only reason he hurried along the trail. Not a stupid desire to hear her soft voice, see her gentle smile, look into her bottom less eyes.

All that mattered was doing his job. Doing it well and living up to his expectations of himself.

Teena climbed until she reached the river. There she left the trail and found a place away from the clump of many booted feet. She sat down and watched the water sing past. She tried to sort out her thoughts, make sense of the strange feelings rolling through her.

Dr. Jacob was a hard man. A white man with no regard for anything but his own interests. Not that it mattered. All she wanted from him was a chance to learn what he knew about healing. Nothing more.

Yet she’d watched the way he was with Burns and the pup, and she had seen so much more than a white man with white man’s greed. She’d seen the flash of tenderness as he watched Burns, the gentleness in his hands as he examined the pup, the kind determination as he talked to the boy about caring for the animal, quietly teaching responsibility as her people did when children were much younger.

Afterwards, when Burns had come out to play with the dog, she told him about fishing for food for the animal. About teaching it to remain at home when ordered to do so. “Is Dr. Jacob your brother or father?” she asked.

Burns grinned. “Neither. Only met him on the boat on the way up here.” His expression grew dreamy. “I wish he was, though. He cares about me more than my father does. Ain’t got no brother.”

That one statement—I wish he was—sat like something warm and sweet in the secret corner of her heart. A man who won the respect of someone younger deserved admiration.

Even if he saved his kindness for the white man.

She sighed. Life used to be so simple. So straightforward. She knew what was expected of her—work hard to feed the family, respect her elders, marry the man of her father’s choosing, follow the events of each season. But things had changed.

She brought her attention back to the trail. This hungry search for gold had turned her life upside down, shifted her world sideways. Things would never be the same.

As if her thoughts had brought him toward her, Dr. Jacob climbed the path. He didn’t look her way. She wondered that the silent cry of her soul at seeing him didn’t draw his attention to her. Who was this man? Why should she feel such a stirring inside at the mere sight of him?

She didn’t move. Barely breathed. She wanted him to see her. But hoped he wouldn’t. She was not in a mood to deal with the way his eyes alternately flashed disapproval then darkened with some kind of interest. Or was it curiosity?

He passed out of sight.

She sat there a moment or two, waiting for her insides to calm, her reason to return. Then she pushed to her feet and headed down the trail to help with the clinic construction.

The three Tucker sisters were hard at work in the afternoon sun when she reached the clinic. Perhaps they no longer needed her help. She hung back to watch and wait.

“Burns,” Frankie called. “I could use a hand with this here board.” The boy hurriedly left his pup.

As Lucy waited for Burns to do Frankie’s bidding, she pulled out a pretty white hankie from her pocket and patted her brow. Both her sisters stared.

“What?” Lucy demanded.

“What good’s that little bit of cloth?” Frankie appointed herself spokeswoman. “Where’s your bandanna?”

“I gave it to Caleb.”

“Why?” Both her sisters looked her up and down like she had suddenly changed form before their eyes.

“Well, for goodness’ sake. Can’t a woman give her man a gift?” She jammed the hankie back in her pocket and picked up a hammer to drive a nail into a board with such fury that Teena flinched.

Burns stared wide-eyed. He glanced over his shoulder, as if wondering how to escape these rowdy women.

Margie and Frankie considered each other then shrugged, gave a sad shake to their heads and returned to work.

“You want to help me, Teena?” Margie gave Lucy a sideways look.

Teena worked alongside Margie for some time. “You remind me of a friend I used to have,” Teena said, after the tension had melted away.

Margie removed nails she held in her mouth to ask, “A good one, I hope?”

“Sarah McIntyre. Her father taught us about Jesus.” As they worked together, she told Margie about the white friend she’d had as a child.

“Sounds like she accepted you the way you are.”

Teena considered the words. “She never saw me as an Indian, but as a friend. I never saw her as white, but a friend.”

“That’s special. Not often we find such acceptance. I can tell you, not everyone sees past the rough exterior of the Tucker sisters to our hearts.” Margie shook her head. “I never figured any of us would marry. I don’t aim to give up my independence for the sake of a man.” She gave Lucy a sideways look, but Lucy either didn’t hear or decided to act as if she hadn’t. “How ’bout you, Frankie?”

“Not me either.” Frankie puffed out her lips and made a rumbling noise. “I got bigger aspirations.”

Teena wondered what those aspirations were, but she didn’t have the right to ask.

Apparently, Margie thought she did. “You still hankering for a man’s job?”

“Ain’t no man’s job I couldn’t do,” Frankie muttered, her shoulders rigid.

Lucy stopped work. “It’s not about proving you’re equal to a man. It’s about sharing—” She patted her chest then jerked her eyes downward and stopped speaking.

Teena waited, wanting to know what made Lucy smile like she had a special secret, but Lucy didn’t continue. Instead, she set her hammer on a stack of wood.

“I’m going home to make supper for Caleb.”

Frankie and Margie both stared after her departing figure. “Well, if that don’t beat all,” Frankie mumbled, then resumed work.

Teena and Margie did the same, the unnatural silence broken by hammer beats. For Teena’s part, she longed to ask Lucy if being married to Caleb brought that sweet smile to her lips.

“Anyone there,” one of the men in the tent called out.

“Guess he’s calling you,” Frankie said to Burns.

“I don’t know what to do for them.” The boy looked scared half to death.

Teena itched to step inside and offer her comfort, but she feared Jacob’s anger. Feared triggering it would end forever any hope of being allowed to learn from him. However, Burns’s discomfort was very real. “Just ask what he wants. Perhaps only a cup of water.”

Burns’s eyes were wide as he ducked into the tent. Teena listened from outside. If she was needed she would disregard Dr. Jacob’s order to stay away from his patients. Not even to please him would she ignore a person’s sufferings. Not even a white man’s.

Burns stepped out in a few minutes. “Donald wanted a drink just like you said.” He glanced at the trail. “I wish Jacob would get back. The other man opened his eyes and stared at me.” He shivered. “It gives me the creeps.”

Teena knew of a ground root that would ease the man’s worry as he recovered his mind, but she dared not give it to him. Perhaps she could make a tea using it, and ask Burns to get the man to sip it. She took a step toward her sack of remedies.

“Here comes Jacob,” Burns yelled. “Hurry up. That man is waking up.”

Teena slid back to Margie’s side and pretended an interest she didn’t feel at the position of a board.

Margie considered her. “You want to help, don’t you?”

“I want to learn.”

“He will come around. He’ll soon ’nough see that you can’t judge a person by the outside.”

Teena wished she could believe it was so.

She edged closer to the tent to listen to the conversation inside. She heard Dr. Jacob murmur to the patients but she could not tell what he did. She closed her eyes and imagined him touching the men’s wrists, pressing that little instrument to their chests. Why did he do those things? What did he learn about illness in doing so? What did he give Donald for pain? Did it work better than what she used? Why?

Margie and Frankie hammered away at the rising walls. The noise made it impossible for Teena to hear Dr. Jacob. God, the Creator, Mr. McIntyre said You would listen to me, even if I am a Tlingit. Hear my prayer. Let me learn from this man. Would He truly listen to a Tlingit woman—a superstitious healer, as Dr. Jacob described her?

“Burns,” the doctor called. “I need your help.”

Burns reluctantly ducked inside as Teena watched in longing frustration.

A few minutes later, the tent flap parted and Dr. Jacob and Burns shuffled out, the man who had lain without moving between them. He blinked in the sunshine and drew in a long breath, then murmured, “The sun feels good.”

Dr. Jacob settled him against a roll of canvas and handed him a cup of water. “Can you tell us your name?”

“Name’s Emery Adams.” He sounded weary, but at least he knew his name.

Teena slid a happy glance toward Jacob and caught her breath at the look he gave her. “It is good he knows his name,” she murmured.

“It is very good.” His gaze held hers, silently rejoicing. She couldn’t force her eyes away. Couldn’t think of anything but the shared gladness of this good news. At that precise moment, something happened she was at a loss to explain—a connection she’d never felt with anyone else, a spiritual experience almost as profound as when Mr. McIntyre told her about Jesus.

She would never again feel the same inside.

Jacob turned away first. “How did you injure yourself?”

Emery snorted a bitter laugh and grabbed at his head. “Oh, it hurts.”

Jacob touched the man’s shoulder. “Take it easy.”

Emery closed his eyes a moment. “I was attacked. Someone sneaked up and hit me. I heard them coming. Guessed what they had in mind but didn’t have time to defend myself.” He glanced about. “Don’t suppose you found any of my belongings with me?”

“I didn’t find you.” Jacob didn’t look toward Teena for two heartbeats. “This woman did.” He nodded toward her. “Did he have anything with him?”

She stepped forward and faced the man. “Nothing.”

Emery’s eyes narrowed. “’Course not. Indians believe in finders keepers. No respect for a man’s belongings.”

Teena felt his dislike of her. Knew it was based on her being a Tlingit and no other reason. Little did he understand that a Tlingit’s honor would never allow them to touch the belongings of another.

Nor would there be thanks from this man. Not even for saving his life. She moved away, out of his sight.

Frankie edged closer. “Did you get a look at your attackers?”

“’Fraid not.”

“Can you remember anything at all? A word? Their boots? Anything at all?”

Emery squinted. “I seem to remember one of them saying Harmon. I don’t know if it’s a name or what.”

Frankie squatted to eye level with Emery. “Can you describe any of your belongings? Something that makes them unique?”

Emery patted his vest pocket. “My watch. It was a gift from my father.” He described it.

“Good. That’s something to go on.” Frankie stood. “I’ll trot on over to the sheriff’s office and let him know.”

She returned shortly with Sheriff Ed Parker, who made a few notes.

“I’ll pass the information along. Someone will likely spot the watch. We’ll do our best to find it and the men who robbed you.” He touched the brim of his hat and left.

“That’s enough for one day. It’s time to get you back to bed.” Jacob signaled to Burns and they helped the man back into the tent.

Teena and the Tuckers returned to work.

Teena knew the moment Jacob stepped out of the tent, even though she couldn’t see him. She didn’t need to. Her heart felt him with every beat.

He poked his head around the wall she worked on.

The hammer hung in midair—halfway between her nose and a nail she intended to pound. But she couldn’t move. He was too close. And he watched her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Emery had no right to accuse you of stealing. Please forgive him.”

Her gaze sought his. He looked so regretful it stung her heart.

“It’s not your fault. Why should you be sorry?”

He shrugged and gave a crooked smile that melted every remnant of resentment at Emery’s accusations. “I just feel I should apologize for his behavior.”

His smile widened and the inside of her head felt washed with honey. “Apology accepted.” She knew her smile was as wide as his.

Suddenly his lips flattened, his expression darkened and he turned away.

She hit the nail as hard as she could.

He might apologize for others, but it didn’t change how he viewed her. Why did she think it would?