“Gruder’s ice house on the other side of town. He has it shipped all the way from New England, packed in straw and sawdust.”
“Sounds expensive.”
Arthur tipped his angular face toward her. “Not for you to worry about. I’m the doctor. I’m prescribing. I’ll send for a small slab for this evening and then again early in the morning.”
She fingered her reticule. “We need to find a room in town.”
“You’re welcome to stay in the infirmary. Free of charge.” Arthur’s lips ticked upward. “There’s a bed in there, and I could provide a cot.”
With his bedroom just up the stairs? “No.”
He snorted. “I’ve had patients in there from just born to ninety years old. Mrs. Ruddy sleeps on the premise, as well. Built-in chaperone.”
Still, it’d leave him free to come talk to her at any hour he pleased. There’d be little escape from his attentions. Besides, it was the room her father had died in. She shuddered. “I have money.”
“Hmmm. I’m sure there are other things you could use it on. Especially with your Don Quixote off for weeks at a time.”
“Who’s Don Quotie?” Charlie perked up. “Ben looks after us. I bet he’s got a thousand cattle.”
“I’m sure he does.” Arthur smirked.
Cora lifted her chin. There were so many other necessities she needed the money for, but there were things more important than money. “I thank you for your generosity, Dr. LeBeau, but we’ll find a room at Mamie Sykes.” Or maybe even the Millers. If she dared ask. “Mr. McKenzie entrusted our—my cattle to Mr. Goodnight, and the latter stopped by a couple days ago with a tidy sum from the sale.”
Arthur puffed out his cheeks and stretched to a stand. “Mr. Goodnight came calling?”
Men and their jealousies. “Mr. Goodnight came to pay his bill. Never stepped foot in the house. He was in a hurry to visit neighboring ranches and round up more cattle for another drive to New Mexico.” If only Ben had waited and sent the newly acquired herd with him. She stood. “Do you need to look at Charlie further, or should we go find a room and await the ice?”
Arthur smoothed his hand over his goatee. “Why don’t you locate a room for the night, and I’ll keep Charlie here for now. I’ll make him a new looser split to tide him over until tomorrow. You can return for him and have dinner before you two go.”
“Dinner?” She gripped her reticule.
“You don’t plan to starve, do you?”
“I brought a pouch of dried venison and biscuits for the road.”
“Very good. You can eat it when you drive home tomorrow afternoon. Meanwhile, I had Mrs. Ruddy order a meal for the two of you from the café, and she should show up here any minute with it. I’ll have her keep yours warm.”
“Dr. LeBeau?—”
“Arthur.”
She blew out a breath. “Arthur, I can’t accept your generous offer.”
“It’s a meal, Cora. I even ordered a slice of chocolate cake for the boy.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Chocolate?”
The man should be a hawker. “We can’t?—”
“It’s too late.” A fox grin twinkled his eyes. “The cook has prepared the food by now. Mrs. Ruddy and I have already eaten. It’d be a shame to see it go to waste. Besides, what’s a meal between friends? You did say we could still be friends?”
How was she to refuse without appearing to be inconsiderate, unappreciative, and wasteful? The man had her boxed in. She acquiesced.
That night, Cora fell in and out of a restless sleep, her arm across Charlie in the small bed. His arm lay atop a folded rubberized blanket with towels around the edges absorbing the run-off from the melting ice. Now and then, a moan escaped his chocolate-tinged lips. Arthur had offered a bit of laudanum for the boy’s pain, but she had absolutely refused to allow it.
Their bellies full from pot roast, potatoes, and carrots, they’d headed over to the boarding house shortly after eating. Charlie’s drowsiness had saved her from Arthur’s insistence on a game of chess.Between friends. The man wielded the statement like a legal document. But it’d been Charlie’s pale face and feverish eyes that had led her to accept Arthur’s offer to drive them to the boardinghouse in his buggy. It was all she could do to keep him from carrying Charlie inside.
Mrs. Sykes had already asked about the Yankee, the one who’d only stayed one night in the boardinghouse before moving out to Cora’s ranch. Cora had commented on Ben’s loft over the stable and told the woman how her brother’s friend was away often on cattle drives. The answer had hardly satisfied the lady, and now the doctor was giving her and Charlie personal attention. Mrs. Sykes would take note of that.
