“Because it is not for the faint of heart.”
Call’s short laugh was without humor. “There is nothing faint about Miss Morrison heart.” He was aware that the doctor was looking at him oddly. “If you don’t want her in the room, then you’ll have to tell her. I have no sway there.”
“I see.” But he didn’t. “Well, I do like to have a witness when I can, someone to take notes as I work. I don’t perform many autopsies because death is usually straightforward in these parts, but when I do, my wife assists me.”
“And she’s not faint of heart?”
“I met her in medical school. She was my partner on the cadaver dissection. I’m Jewish. She’s a woman. No one wanted to work with us.”
“Not a traditional courtship, then.”
Singer chuckled. “Not in any way, but I learned that my future wife had a cast-iron stomach and nerves of steel.”
“Admirable qualities.”
“Indeed. And she’s lovely as well.” The doctor looked past Call’s shoulder to the porch as Laurel approached with a cup in her hand. “Ah. Here’s my tea.”
Call turned and saw Laurel. He stepped to the side toallow Singer to pass. “The buckboard will be ready for you when you want to leave.”
“Thank you. It’s been a pleasure.”
Nodding, Call headed to the barn.
Laurel felt the lump forming in her throat again as she watched him go. Aware of the doctor’s observation, she forced a smile and gave him her full attention. “Come around to the steps,” she said. “You can have your tea on the porch or inside if you’d prefer that.”
“The porch is perfect.”
She met him with the cup when he reached her. “The rockers are comfortable, but then so is the swing.”
Singer took the cup and chose one of the rockers. “Will you join me?”
“I have the guests to attend. A fresh team’s in place so they’ll be leaving soon.” Laurel refused his offer to pay for his tea before she went inside. She had every intention of rejoining the passengers at the dining table, but her steps took her into her office, where she sat behind her desk and carefully removed her spectacles. She stared straight ahead until the view beyond the front window blurred, then she closed her eyes and sank back in her chair, wishing without hope of it coming true that she could begin this day over.
***
Call and Laurel climbed aboard the buckboard from opposite sides and reached for the reins at the same time. Dr. Singer was already seated between them and neither wanted to initiate a tug of war or have words in front of him. They simultaneously deferred to the other, which was nearly as awkward. After a brief hesitation, Call sat back and gave Laurel leave to handle the reins.
“Riding shotgun, are you?” the doctor asked when they started to move.
“It’s what I know best,” said Call.
“Mr. Stonechurch indicated you had that job with Overland at one time.”
“That’s right.”
“And you, Miss Morrison, how long have you been operating the station?”
“I was born here so I don’t really know anything else.”
“You know, my wife and I came through your station about eight years back. We were answering a call for a doctor in Stonechurch. Liked it well enough to stay. I mention that because I don’t remember seeing you at the station then.”
“My brother George greeted the stage in those days. I did kitchen work, cooking, setting the table, washing up. Do you remember biscuits as tough as hardtack?”
He said carefully, “I have that recollection, yes.”
“I made those.” There was no apology or embarrassment in her tone. She offered the truth proudly. “The passengers had to put up with those biscuits for six whole months before my father realized I belonged anywhere but in the kitchen. Martin, my other brother, took over my chores and I worked with the horses.”
Singer chuckled. “Excellent strategy on your part.”
