Bluebonnet Belle (8 page)

She smiled. “All right for now, darling, but once we're married you must keep regular hours.”

“We're not going to get married, Francesca.”

“Ah yes, you told me, but you'll change your mind, eventually. It's just a matter of time until you come to your senses.”

Gray turned on his heel and strode out of the hotel.

 

“I don't know about you,” Beulah said as she and April strolled toward the pharmacy, “but I'd say the good doctor doesn't make those trips to Dallas simply for medicines.” After the market, the two friends had shopped for dresses, then had tea at the hotel.

“I fail to see that what the doctor does in Dallas, or here, is any of our business.”

April had tried to get Beulah's mind off Gray Fuller for the past four hours, but she was obsessed with the new turn of events in the doctor's personal life.

“You're not disappointed that he's taken? Don't you think he's incredibly handsome?”

“Of course he's handsome. He probably knows exactly how good-looking he is, and uses it to his full advantage. Just like that woman uses her beauty to wrap him around her little finger.”

“Who? Frenchie?”

“Frenchie. You wouldn't want a man like that.”

“Oh, yes, I would. In fact, I'd take any man I could get.”

“You would not.”

“I would, too.”

“Henry says—”

“Oh, Henry, Smenry. Henry isn't nearly as smart, or as handsome, as Dr. Fuller.”

“Or as
talkative
.” April's tone rang with implication.

“True, he shouldn't have told on you,” she agreed.

“Beulah, that's enough about Dr. Fuller.”

She frowned and glanced back over her shoulder. “It's obvious she means something to him. Did you see her kiss him? And at high noon—on Main Street.”

“Surely that's their business.” The subject of Gray Fuller and his mystery woman was wearing a bit thin.

“She's gorgeous, isn't she?”

“Far too self-assured, I'd say,” April snapped, wishing she could forget the dark-haired woman standing on tiptoe to kiss Gray Fuller.

“Self-assured.” Beulah laughed. “Poor Rachel Brown won't like hearing our fine doctor has a lady friend from Dallas.”

“Why should Rachel care?”

“Because she's set her sights on him but good. Are you working this afternoon?”

April was relieved Beulah had finally changed the subject, albeit suddenly. “I have a meeting with Mrs. Pinkham at two.”

“Was she disappointed when you told her you'll have to be less conspicuous in your work?”

“She understood my concern for Grandpa's health.”

Consulting her locket watch, Beulah sighed. “I have to cover again for Papa in the pharmacy this afternoon—” she grinned wickedly “—though I doubt the good doctor will be writing any prescriptions.”

“You're incorrigible. You don't know anything about that woman.” From what April had heard, the doctor was a Christian man with strong values. The past few hours were suspicious, but then she was judging by outward appearances. Admittedly, appearances didn't favor the doctor, but for now she would give him the benefit of the doubt. She was not one of those Bible thumpers who rebuked without good reason. Not when it came to a man's belief. Now his ignorance regarding the Pinkham compound was a different matter entirely. There was no excuse for medical blindness—from which the good doctor surely did suffer.

April firmed her lips. “We don't know anything about Gray Fuller.”

“Except that he's partial to French ladies.”

 

Granted, Gray Fuller was infuriatingly male. The puzzling paradox made him that much more intriguing.

He may have come from Dallas, but April had to admit that he'd settled into Dignity as if he'd been here all his life. The residents seemed to like him, especially Grandpa, and Riley was usually a good judge of character.

The suits he wore were good—not new, but comfortably broken in. Nora Stonehouse washed and ironed his white shirts, and he always looked fresh. April remembered how good he'd smelled that day in his office. As if he'd just stepped out of a hot tub, scrubbed clean and smelling nicer than a warm rain.

Datha told her that all the single women and their mothers were making fools of themselves over him, bringing endless baked offerings to attract his attention.

Judith Hawthorn had taken him an entire baked turkey last week.

A baked turkey!

Had the woman no shame?

It seemed that everyone in town, women especially, thought the doctor was superb, and that every word he spoke was true. It was exactly the sort of distorted thinking Lydia was trying to discourage.

April stopped in a couple of stores on the way home, once to look at a hat, another to consider a pair of brown shoes that would go well with her new heavy cloak.

By the time she reached home, it was well past noon and she was hungry. The house was strangely quiet this afternoon. Thinking Grandpa was asleep, or in the mortuary working, she put the fresh vegetables in a pan for Datha to wash, then went in search of him.

“Grandpa?” she called. Pushing open the screen door, she stepped onto the side porch. “Grandpa?”

The smoking porch was empty.

Going back through the house by way of the kitchen, she checked the mortuary office, even went into the dressing room. No one. Now she was concerned.

As she was walking back through the house, Datha burst in through the front door.

“Miss April!”

The girl's hair was coming loose from tight braids, and her eyes were as big as saucers.

“Datha—what's wrong?”

“It's Mr. Ogden. He got sick…” She panted. “I didn't know what to do. I took him down to Dr. Fuller. He said to come get you.”

“Dr. Fuller?”

“Yes'um. He said for you to come right now.”

April followed the young woman out the back door, her heart pounding in fear. Sick? How sick? Was it his heart, or something else? She prayed harder than she had in years. God wouldn't take Grandpa. The town needed him—she needed him! Her heart beat in her throat and her thoughts kept pace. Why had she deceived him? Why was she a thorn in his side?
Please, God, spare him. I know I'm unworthy to ask, but I'll change—I'll do better. Please…

By the time they reached the doctor's office, she was out of breath and had a painful stitch in her side. Going straight past the two women seated in the waiting room, she entered the examining room after a brief knock.

Riley was lying on the examining table, his face pale and damp. Dr. Fuller bent over him, listening to his heart with a stethoscope.

“Grandpa?”

Riley raised a hand in greeting, and April took it between her own.

“He's doing fine,” Gray said. His eyes darkened as he glanced up and recognized her.

Glowering at him, she silently warned him not to make a scene.

“What happened?”

Giving her a feeble wave, Riley smiled. “Law, they won't let an old man rest.”

Leaning over him, April examined his ashen features. His eyes drifted shut, his mouth went slack and his breathing was shallow.

“The heat…must be getting to me today,” he whispered.

Pressing her hand to his forehead, she said quietly, “Was it another spell?”

“I…just a…weak spell,” he managed to reply. “I'll be fine. Just need to lie down a bit. Datha got scared…”

“I'm glad she acted quickly.”

“I brought him here fast as I could,” the young woman said, hovering nearby.

“You did well, Datha. Thank you.” Stepping back, April cleared her throat. “Doctor, may I have a moment, please?”

“It's too hot for October, that's all this is…. I'll be fine. I need to be home—Sadie Finley is only half-done….”

“Doctor, may we speak?”

Setting the stethoscope aside, Gray ushered her to the small dressing alcove at the other end of the examining room.

“All right, what's happened to my grandfather?”

“First, I'd suggest you calm down—”

“I'll calm down when I know what's wrong with Grandpa!”

He studied her a moment as if prudently weighing his answers.

“I didn't think you liked doctors. We're quacks, remember? Unethical fools who don't know the difference between a scalpel and a butter knife.”

“You don't, as far as I'm concerned. If I had been home, I would have dosed Grandpa with herbs and put him to bed. But I wasn't there, and Datha was, so here we are. I can hardly jerk him off the examining table and take him home, so we'll just pretend I go along with your diagnosis.”

Crossing his arms, he stared at her. “But you don't. You know more than I do when it comes to the heart.”

“Not more, but probably as much.”

“Fortunately, most sane people don't agree with you.”

“Are you saying I'm not sane?”

“I'm not saying anything.”

“That's wise, because most people haven't had the experience I have with the egos of the medical community.”

He stiffened. “Miss…?”

“Truitt. April Truitt. Riley's granddaughter.”

“I
knew
I'd seen you somewhere before.”

Stepping closer, she seethed. “You know perfectly well who I am. You told Grandpa about me selling the compound with Mrs. Pinkham, and don't deny it. Because of you, I can't sell it anymore!”

His eyes turned glacial. “I don't know where you got that idea, but I haven't said a word to your grandpa about your activities with the Pinkham woman. How could I? I didn't know who you were until five minutes ago!”

April rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Oh, really, Dr. Fuller.”

He met her defiant tone and matched it. “Yes,
really
, Miss Truitt. I don't give a fig what you do—got that?”

“Dr. Fuller.” She drew herself upright, facing him. “I may not like it that my grandfather is here, but I trust you to do the best you know how—”

“Meaning you think someone else could do better?”

“Meaning that I want to know what's wrong with him.”

“Then what?”

“Then I'll determine what course of action to take.”

After shooting her an angry glance, he studied his notes. “Your grandfather has a heart problem. Today's episode may have been an attack, or it may have just been a warning. In any event, he needs rest. I'll want to observe him.”

“For how long?”

“At least through the afternoon.”

April was against leaving him here, but she supposed she must. If she caused a scene, it would upset Riley more. The extra time would give her the opportunity to consult with Mrs. Pinkham and old Mrs. Blake as to what herbal treatment would be most beneficial for him.

Meeting his eyes, April whispered ominously, “I'll be back for him late this afternoon.”

Gray's face tightened. “And I'll release him as soon as I feel confident it's safe.”

Did he actually think he could take that tone with her?

Apparently he did.

He walked off before she could call him back.

Datha was waiting for April when she stepped outside the office. “Is Mr. Ogden all right?”

“He'll be fine,” she reassured her. “I'm glad you were there to take care of him.”

“I was so scared,” Datha admitted, her shoulders slumping in relief.

“The doctor wants to observe him for a little while, but he'll be back home by this evening.”

“I'm so glad.”

 

It was nearing four o'clock when April returned. Gray was standing in the doorway of the examining room, studying the tall vase Francesca had purchased for the waiting room. No matter where he put it, it didn't look right.

When he heard the door open, he turned to greet the new arrival. His smile faded when he saw who it was.

“How is he?”

Setting the vase back in the corner, he said calmly, “He's doing very well. Color is good. He had a little soup to eat.”

“I'm doing just fine,” Riley grumbled, pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders as he emerged from the examining room. “I see you've met April. My granddaughter worries too much.”

“Why, Dr. Fuller knows every woman in town. Isn't that right, Doctor,” April said in a goading tone.